While I Was Dying, My Fiancée Was Washing His Boxers

My groin suddenly exploded with agonizing pain. Testicular torsion. If I didn't get surgery within an hour, the tissue would die. I would lose my ability to have kids forever.

Drenched in cold sweat and shaking uncontrollably, I begged my fiancée, Chloe, to take me to the ER. But Chloe was taking her sweet time, handwashing a pair of boxers.

And they weren't mine. They belonged to my "best friend," Logan. "Can't you just wait three more minutes?" Chloe snapped without looking up. "Even if it dies, so what?

I don't want kids anyway." I turned my head, staring at Logan, who was lounging on our sofa, casually sipping a glass of bourbon. "Logan," I gasped, my voice trembling from the pain. "Are you really just going to watch me die here?

When you lost your job, I lent you money. When you said you wanted to visit this city, I let you stay in my apartment.

Is this how you repay me?" Logan set his glass down, completely unbothered. "Chill, Ethan. Let me finish this drink, change my clothes, and then I'll drive you.

Stop making a scene." Looking at the two of them—completely cold, completely indifferent—a sudden wave of clarity hit me.

I pulled out my phone with shaking fingers and dialed Harper, the girl who had chased me for years. "Harper," I wheezed into the phone. "You said you always wanted to be my wife.

Do you still mean it? Because I'm ready to marry you." Harper replied almost instantly. "Are you serious, Ethan?

If you're playing with me, you're dead." Over on the couch, Logan didn't change his clothes.

Instead, he stretched and headed straight for the bathroom. "I'm gonna take a quick shower first," he called out.

While Logan was in the shower, Chloe started carefully ironing his designer suit. Our housekeeper, Martha, couldn't take it anymore.

She rushed over, helping me lie flat on the sofa, her face pale with worry. "Chloe, Ethan is in terrible pain! You need to take him to the hospital right now.

What if something goes seriously wrong?" But Chloe didn't even look up. She kept running the iron smoothly over Logan's jacket. "Logan is a neat freak, Martha.

He's just taking a quick shower." Then, she chuckled, looking at me like I was being dramatic. "Don't worry, Ethan, it's not going to kill you to wait a few minutes.

Worst case scenario, they cut it off.

I don't want kids anyway, so it's not like we'll need it." I stared at her, my voice shaking with pure rage and pain. "This is not a joke, Chloe. I could be permanently mutilated.

Do you even understand what you're saying?" "Yeah, yeah, whatever." Chloe drifted her gaze back toward the bathroom door, completely tuning me out.

She was clearly waiting for Logan.

I took a deep breath, summoned what little strength I had left, and slammed my fist onto the coffee table. "I said, I am about to lose a part of my body!

I need to go to the hospital right now! Did you hear me?!" Chloe jumped, startled by my outburst. Her eyes instantly filled with annoyance. "Why are you yelling at me?

We aren't even married yet, and you're already showing your true, abusive colors? Logan is just taking a quick shower and you can't even wait?

You're the one who invited him to stay here in the first place. You're ruining the mood." The noise in the living room drew Logan out.

He walked out of the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around his waist, water dripping down his bare chest. "Hey, don't fight because of me," Logan said, putting on a fake, apologetic smile. "Ethan, you're the one who said we should hang out more after graduation.

I'm staying at your place and eating your food—of course I'll take you to the hospital. Just give me a second to get ready." My back was completely soaked in cold sweat.

I looked at them with icecold eyes.

As Logan dropped his dirty boxers on the floor, Chloe immediately picked them up to wash them. "I like keeping things tidy," Chloe said softly. "Leaving dirty laundry out smells." Watching her patiently scrub another man's underwear made my stomach turn.

Sometimes, when I worked late and was too exhausted to do laundry, Chloe would throw a fit. She would lock me out of the bedroom, complaining that my dirty clothes were disgusting.

But now, she was happily washing Logan's underwear. Suddenly, a wave of nausea hit me, accompanied by a sharp pain in my bladder. I staggered to the bathroom, clutching the wall.

When I finished, I was so weak I couldn't even press the flush button. Martha walked in after me and gasped in horror. "Oh my god! Ethan, you're peeing blood!

We cannot wait anymore!" The sound of a hairdryer started buzzing in the hallway. Chloe was now blowdrying Logan's hair.

Martha marched over and violently ripped the plug out of the wall. "Stop this madness!

Take Ethan to the hospital right now!" Logan looked at Chloe with a face full of pity. "Wow, Chloe. I didn't realize this was how you lived.

Even a housekeeper can yell at you in your own home?" Chloe sneered, glaring at Martha. "My future motherinlaw hired her.

She probably brought her here to spy on me and make sure I don't 'abuse' her precious son. I have to put up with it." She plugged the hairdryer back in.

Neither of them cared about my bleeding. Instead, they started complaining about my mother. At that moment, my phone rang.

It was the hospital. "It's already 10:20 PM," the nurse said urgently. "Where is the patient? The emergency surgeon is ready. You must be here before 11:00 PM.

Do not delay!" The hairdryer buzzed loudly again. This time, I walked over and ripped the plug out myself. I was gasping for air, clutching my stomach. "It's 10:30.

I have to be at the hospital by 11:00."

"Fine, fine! We're going! You're acting like such a baby," Chloe groaned, reluctantly grabbing her purse. Just as we opened the door, my parents and my sister, Emily, arrived.

When they saw me still standing in the hallway, sweating and pale, their faces fell. "Why are you still here?!" Emily yelled. "Get downstairs right now!" But before we could cross the threshold, Logan clicked his tongue and touched his hair. "Ah, I forgot to put hair wax in.

Can we wait another minute? I just need to style it real quick." My mom couldn't hold back her anger. "You stay here and style your hair then!

We are taking Ethan to the hospital first.

This is an emergency!" Logan slowly rubbed the wax between his palms, his tone dripping with fake politeness. "Auntie, don't be so anxious. I'm almost done. Let's all go together.

I came all this way to visit, and I want to help." "If you want to come, move your ass! My brother doesn't have time for your vanity!" Emily snapped.

Logan looked hurt, his movements slowing down even more. "Why are you shouting at me? I'm trying my best.

I came all this way to visit, and now I have to deal with someone getting sick. Talk about bad luck." My mom ignored him, helping me down the stairs.

My dad and Emily ran ahead to start the car. But Chloe didn't follow. She stepped right back into the apartment. "Take your time, Logan.

Don't let them ruin your mood," Chloe said gently. My mom turned and gave Chloe a long, chilling look.

I took a sharp breath as the movement sent a fresh wave of pain through my body. I looked at Chloe. "We have to be at the hospital by 11:00. It is 10:35 now.

Are you coming or not?" Seeing how weak I was, Chloe hesitated for a second. She walked over, grabbed a random painkiller from the kitchen, and shoved it into my hand. "Take this.

Is your pain really worse than period cramps? Is it worse than childbirth? Stop being so dramatic. Logan will be ready in a second." I collapsed onto the sofa, curling into a ball.

Any slight movement felt like a hot knife twisting in my groin. Logan was still preening in front of the mirror, admiring himself.

He caught my eye through the reflection, saw the cold sweat dripping down my face, and casually snapped his fingers at me. "Hey bro, do I look good?

Just need a splash of cologne and we're good to go. Chloe, which one?

Dior Sauvage or Bleu de Chanel?" Our neighbor, who was walking by the open door, couldn't help but speak up. "Kid, what are you doing styling your hair at a time like this?

Get this man to the hospital!" But Chloe stepped forward and slammed the door in the neighbor's face. "Mind your own business!" she yelled through the door.

Then she turned to me, her face twisted in anger. "And you, Ethan. Are you happy now? Letting the neighbors look down on me?

If you have this much energy to complain, maybe you should learn a thing or two from Logan. You wear the same three outfits every week.

You look pathetic." I was in too much pain to speak. Seeing my silence, Chloe softened her tone slightly. "Just five more minutes, okay?

Once he's finished, we'll go." Another wave of agony hit me, making me gag. "Chloe," I whispered, my voice cold. "On our anniversary, you wanted to go drinking with Logan.

You two got so wasted the night before that we missed our anniversary dinner.

On Valentine's Day, when we were supposed to get our marriage license, Logan said he wanted to come and take photos for us.

But he overslept, and by the time we got to City Hall, it was closed. We still aren't legally married because of him.

And today, I am dying of pain, and you're making me wait for him to finish styling his hair.

Are you sure about this?" Chloe's face completely darkened. "So, you've been keeping a scorecard this whole time?" Logan took a dramatic step back, putting his hands up. "Whoa, Ethan, that's low.

If you have this much free time, maybe you should work on yourself instead of picking fights with your girlfriend. Whatever, I don't want to argue with you.

You're ruining my look." I looked at him.

Back in college, he was always like this—obsessed with his appearance, unable to leave the dorm without spending an hour in front of the mirror. It was 10:42 PM.

I could barely walk. I stopped looking at them. Clutching the wall, I began to drag myself toward the door. "You two enjoy yourselves. I'm leaving."

Seeing me walk out, Logan panicked. He rushed over and blocked the door. "Hey, come on, we're bros. Don't be like this. I'm almost ready.

Besides, if you go alone, who's going to take care of you?" It was 10:45 PM. I stumbled back into the bathroom. There was even more blood in the toilet. I could barely stand.

My phone rang again—it was Emily. "Ethan! Why aren't you down yet?! The hospital just called again. If you aren't here by 11:00, they said the tissue will die!

Every minute counts!" The pain was so intense I couldn't even form words. Martha snatched the phone from my hand. "Emily, it's not that we don't want to leave.

Someone is blocking the door. I don't know what kind of sick game they're playing." "I'm coming up with Dad right now!" Emily roared through the speaker.

When my dad stormed in, Logan was still in front of the mirror, casually spraying cologne.

My dad controlled his rage and looked at Chloe. "Chloe, I believe our family has treated you incredibly well.

We paid the down payment on the house, bought you a brandnew car, and got you a gorgeous engagement ring. All we asked was for you to take care of my son.

And now, you're risking his life just to wait for another man to get ready?

Do you think this is acceptable?" Emily stormed in right behind him, her eyes wild with anger. "Chloe, what did you promise our parents when they bought this place?

You said you would cherish Ethan forever. He fought with us for the first time in his life just to protect you, and this is how you treat him?" "But...

Ethan was the one who invited Logan," Chloe stammered, looking defensive. "Logan only came because of him.

I'm just trying to be a good host." "Yeah," Logan chimed in. "Ethan told me to make myself at home.

I didn't mean any harm." They were playing off each other, trying to make it look like I was the villain. My mom finally snapped.

She had always told me to be gentle with Chloe because she was younger, but now, her voice shook with pure fury. "Do you two have no sense of urgency?!

The host of this house is bleeding and in agony, and the guest doesn't even have the decency to step aside?

Are you telling me my son has to wait for this vanityobsessed parasite before he can go to the hospital?!" It was the first time my mom had ever yelled like this.

Chloe lowered her head, looking slightly guilty. Logan, now fully dressed, stepped in front of Chloe to shield her. "Auntie, that's not fair. What do you mean 'parasite'?

Going to the hospital means waiting in line anyway. Why don't you go yell at the doctors instead of me? And Ethan, if you hadn't invited me, I wouldn't even be here.

Now everything is my fault? Fine! I shouldn't have come!" With a dramatic huff, Logan stormed back into the guest room and slammed the door so hard the walls shook.

Another wave of sharp pain hit me, and my vision blurred. I nearly collapsed to my knees. My dad and Emily immediately stepped forward to lift me up. But Chloe still wouldn't budge.

She blocked the doorway, her voice filled with stubborn resentment. "Ethan, you're such a mama's boy. You have absolutely no backbone.

You invited Logan here, and now you've insulted him like this. Go apologize to him right now!

If you can't even handle a small issue like this, don't even think about us getting married!" She was threatening me. She was using our marriage to force me to apologize to Logan.

Fine. If that was the case, I would just get a new fiancée. After all, ever since I had sent that text message to Harper, my phone had been blowing up with notifications.

The latest message from Harper read: “You better be at the hospital, you idiot. I'm almost there.” It was 10:50 PM. My phone rang again. It was the hospital. "Where is the patient?

Do we need to dispatch an ambulance? Based on your symptoms, the risk of tissue necrosis is extremely high.

If you do not arrive immediately, we will not be held responsible for the outcome." My mom's voice was shaking. "Did you hear that? It's dying!

Move out of the way!" Inside the guest room, the sound of Logan's video game blasted through the door. "Just go, Chloe!" Logan yelled from inside. "Don't worry about an outsider like me.

I'll just starve to death in this city where I don't know anyone." Chloe panicked. She turned to the guest room door and shouted, "Don't worry, Logan!

If you're not going, I'm not going either!" The room went dead silent. Everyone's face turned pale with disbelief. It was 10:52 PM.

Ignoring the pain, I looked at Emily. "Emily... pack up all my credit cards, my passport, and my documents." Seeing me pack my bags, Chloe's patience finally snapped. "What are you doing now?

Is it really that hard to just go and apologize? If you walk out that door, don't you dare come back!" The pain was reaching its peak.

I pushed her out of the way with all the strength I had left. "I told you, I am going to the hospital. Move."

"Fine! Go!" Chloe yelled, stepping aside. "But don't expect me to nurse you back to health!" She actually believed that I wouldn't be able to survive in the hospital without her.

Inside the room, the game volume turned down. Logan called out mockingly, "Chloe, maybe you should go with him. Don't worry about me.

After all, your future motherinlaw is watching." Chloe, who already resented my mother, grew even angrier.

She threw the front door open. "Get out!" My mom supported my weight as we stumbled down the stairs. My vision was spinning, and nausea was rising in my throat.

But when we reached the parking lot, my car was gone. My parents had bought me a brandnew BMW M5 for my upcoming wedding. But my designated parking spot was completely empty.

Emily immediately dialed Chloe. "Where is Ethan's car?!" Logan must have heard us through the phone.

He quickly ran down the stairs, looking panicked, and started explaining himself. "Chloe said I could use the car for a couple of days... I accidentally dented it.

I'll get it fixed and return it to you, I swear!" I didn't waste a single breath on him.

I unlocked my phone and dialed 911. "911, what is your emergency?" "I want to report a grand theft auto.

Someone stole my—" Before I could finish, Chloe rushed down and slapped the phone out of my hand. Her face was flushed with embarrassment and anger. "Are you crazy?!

You want to go to the hospital, right? Fine! Let's go! Get in!" She shoved me into her cheap sedan.

She started the engine and drove like a maniac, slamming on the gas and the brakes violently. Cold sweat poured down my face.

My mom kept pleading from the back seat, "Chloe, please, slow down!

Drive smoothly!" Chloe's voice was like ice. "Oh, so a few minutes ago you couldn't wait, and now you want me to slow down?" At 10:57 PM, we finally pulled up to the emergency entrance.

The emergency staff was already waiting outside with a gurney. The operating room was prepped. They just needed a family member's signature to wheel me in.

Chloe grabbed the clipboard, but before she could sign, Logan gasped dramatically. "Oh my god! My AirPods! I must have dropped them in your car, Chloe!

Help me find them real quick!" It was 10:58 PM. My face was completely bloodless. I could barely breathe. "Sign... please... sign it..." I gasped.

The doctors and nurses glared at Chloe. "Ma'am, sign the paper!

The patient's groin is already severely swollen and bruised. 11:00 PM is the absolute limit for a successful recovery.

Every second counts!" Chloe hesitated, her pen hovering over the paper. She wrote one stroke of her name, then stopped. She turned to me. "Can you just wait a minute?

Let me help him find his AirPods first. It'll only take a second." I closed my eyes. The pain was so intense that my lungs felt like they were collapsing.

Chloe was still muttering, "We're already at the hospital anyway, what's another minute? I'll be right back..." The sheer absurdity of it all broke me.

I opened my eyes and roared with every ounce of strength left in my body: "If you're not going to sign, then get the fuck out of my sight!" "Excuse me?

How dare you—" It was 10:59 PM. Suddenly, the deafening roar of a sports car engine echoed through the hospital driveway. Everyone turned to look.

A woman in a stunning red dress stepped out of a Porsche.

She pushed Chloe aside with absolute authority and stood right at the front. "He said, get the fuck out." Harper looked at the nurse, grabbed the pen from Chloe's hand, and signed the form with a flourish. "I am his fiancée.

Run the surgery."