My husband scolded me for being a bitch. After I left, he regretted it.

“Ms. Winters, are you absolutely certain you want to donate your corneas to Mr. Harrington?”

“I am.”

I forced a smile, but even the brightest grin couldn't hide my pale complexion.

“The corneas are for him. Once I’m gone, I want my body donated for medical research.”

Just a few days ago, I was diagnosed with an aggressive brain tumor. The doctors told me the chances of successful surgery were incredibly low.

So, I decided to forgo treatment.

“Since you’ve made up your mind, please sign this donor form.”

I scrawled my name, then added, “Please keep this a secret from my husband.”