From Villain to Virtual Sweetheart: The Fake Heir's Grand Scheme(BL)
Chapter 134: The Ending that Haunts Me

Chapter 134: The Ending that Haunts Me

After they left the hospital, the sun was already high. Nora tried to shake off the heavy air that had followed them from the hospital room. She turned to the boys. "Let’s go do something fun!" she said, her voice a little too cheerful.

Micah gave a soft shake of his head. "Sorry, I can’t today."

Darcy glanced at Nora. "You have school, Nora."

Nora puffed her cheeks and groaned. "Ugh, I was hoping to skip..."

Darcy raised an eyebrow, and Nora quickly gave up the idea.

"What about this weekend?" she asked instead, hope echoing in her voice.

Micah’s eyes stayed distant. "I’m busy. Maybe next week."

Nora visibly withered, her face fell, shoulders slumped. But she did not complain. Even she could tell something was wrong. The tension in the air wasn’t something a chit-chat could fix. Everyone had gone quiet since the doctor left.

Micah had been lost in thought, his expression heavy. Even her brother didn’t try to start a conversation with him.

They were all tiptoeing around Micah.

Darcy helped Nora into a taxi, and they dropped her off at school. After she waved goodbye, the ride back to campus was quiet, too quiet.

Micah sat in the back seat, staring out the window. His hand rested on his thigh, fingers twitching now and then. His jaw was tight, and his mouth was pressed into a thin line. He hadn’t said a word since dropping off Nora.

Darcy peeked at him from the corner of his eye. Micah looked different. Not the usual snarky, smug boy he was used to. There was a strange calm around him, but it wasn’t peaceful. It was like a stillness right before a storm.

Darcy didn’t know what to say. His eyes flicked to Micah’s profile again. That silver-haired boy who usually became bored at serious conversation had asked the doctor about stem cell transplants and complications like a pro. Not just casually. He knew the terms. He understood the risks. He had even said HSCT before the doctor could suggest it.

Darcy was really surprised. And then he realised he hadn’t been any different from others. He had the same stereotype about Micah as them, looking at him with prejudice. Thinking he was shallow and spoiled. Like he couldn’t understand any heavy topics.

Maybe not stupid, but he had seemed like the type who only cared about fashion and appearance. And now?

Darcy felt ashamed of himself. There was more depth to Micah than he had thought.

Regardless, Micah knowing about his mother’s disease could have many meanings. He shouldn’t let things get to his head and think Micah looked into that because of him. Maybe a relative had the same disease. Maybe Micah really liked medicine but could not get in.

Darcy still wanted to ask but held back. Something about Micah’s expression told him not to.

Meanwhile, Micah’s knuckles were white. He had one hand curled into a fist on his lap, nails pressing into his palm. His chest felt tight. Until now he had blocked the ending the author had written for him in that cursed novel. It was heartbreaking. Not because he had died alone in an empty worn-out place. But because he had died from the side effects of bone marrow donation. An extremely rare side effect. Pulmonary embolism. He had died just two weeks later after the BM harvest.

In the first week after the donation, his legs ached constantly. Then came the chest pain and shortness of breath. But there was no one to help him. He had no family, no money, no voice. Just an old mattress and silence.

The fear was always in him. What if it happened again? Of course, the way they extracted stem cells from him in the novel was brutal. It wasn’t even in the hospital. Those male leads had captured him, bound him like he wasn’t even human and got what they needed. When it was over, they threw him into an abandoned house to rot, to die. Alone. In pain.

He remembered the author’s cold words: He got what he deserved!

That was the end.

Micah had thought he had more time. Time to think. Time to choose. But now, hearing that Flora already had Aplastic Anemia? That changed everything. This wasn’t some future problem anymore. It was now. He knew he should make a decision soon.

Should he just stand by and watch his biological mother suffer for years?

Knowing he could offer relief for her?

But what if it happened like it was described in the novel?

He wanted to live. It wasn’t fair... not at all.

Micah bit the inside of his cheek.

He had dreams. He wanted to graduate, start a brand, and design something beautiful. He wanted to live a little longer.

Micah wanted to be selfish, forget about morality and just let it go. But the weight of all that pressed on his chest heavily. He had tried hard to deal with those male leads, to protect Darcy all because of the future. If...If he couldn’t make it... there would be Darcy, taking his place for them.

But if Flora knew she was getting better at the cost of her son’s life, could she be happy?

Of course not. Even if he wanted to help her, he would never let her know the truth.

Micah looked at the busy streets. His reflection stared back at him, tired and pale.

Once again, he wondered why he had dreamed about the book. Was it because of this?

Was he the one who could make everyone happy? Was there a way to save everyone and still survive? Was he really strong enough to do this? Or just desperate not to be hated again, like in the novel?

Maybe there was a possibility to help Flora without risking his life. He needed to see what this new drug from La Riviere could do...

He had read about pulmonary embolism, he knew it was something that could happen to him even if he did not do the procedure. The risk factors for it were endless. And also there was a possibility that would not happen to him if he donated.

The anxiety was eating him from the inside.

He wanted to hand this decision to others to make. Not him.

A familiar, twisting pain spread in his stomach.

Micah wished he could at least leave something good behind. A famous design, a memory, a small mark that said I was here. I mattered. I was a good son, brother, and friend... not die like in the novel as a villain. Who everyone hated. Forgotten.