My husband drained my blood to save his beloved, while I was in labor

I was about to give blood to my daughter, Lily, who shared my rare blood type. But my husband, Mark, dragged me away to save his pregnant first love, Amelia.

In my past life, I’d given Lily a full 600ml, leaving me too weak to help Amelia. That night, Amelia died in childbirth, losing both herself and the baby. Mark, seemingly concerned for my well-being, comforted me, "Our daughter comes first. You did the right thing."

But on the seventh day after Amelia's death, in front of Lily, he drained every drop of blood from my body. "Lily just got a little push, she was fine! But you ignored Amelia while she was dying in labor!" he screamed. "You like giving blood to Lily so much? Now you can give all you want!"

As I died, watching my lifeblood flow into the bag, my heart turned to ash.

Then, I woke up. Back to the day both Lily and Amelia needed me.

If Amelia and her baby were more important than my own daughter and me, then let them be a family.

…

Lily had been hit by a car after school and was in the ER, needing a transfusion. Mark’s best friend, Alex, called. “Sarah, Mark wants you at St. Joseph’s immediately. Amelia’s in labor, and they've used up all her stored blood."

In my previous life, this call would have filled me with panic. Two lives were on the line. Now, a bitter laugh escaped my lips. Amelia and I shared the same rare blood type, but she was chronically anemic and constantly getting bumps and bruises, always needing blood. Even her periods required transfusions, supposedly to “replenish” her. Mark catered to her every whim. He showered me with gifts, pretending it was because he loved me, but it was all a ploy to keep me healthy for Amelia's needs. Meanwhile, she’d use a little from each 500ml bag and toss the rest, claiming it wasn’t “fresh.”

For five years, I was her unwitting, human blood bank.

"Tell Mark I'm at St. Joseph’s. My daughter was hit by a car and I'm giving her blood.”

Alex stammered, “Mark said you’d make excuses. He said if you didn't come, he’d make Lily give blood to Amelia." He added hesitantly, “And… Mark's in the delivery room with Amelia now. It’s hard to get a hold of him.”

He was with her while she was giving birth? While doctors struggled to save her?

Last time, I’d begged Mark to listen, explaining that Lily had been pushed into traffic at preschool and was seriously injured. She needed my blood. I hadn't even considered using Amelia’s blood. I just wanted to save my daughter.

But Amelia had died.

I’d blamed myself, even though her constant blood wastage had contributed to the tragedy. If only I'd picked Lily up earlier, she wouldn’t have been hurt, and I could have saved Amelia. Mark had comforted me then, telling me I did the right thing, putting our daughter first. But then he spent days mourning at Amelia's side. At her funeral, he learned that Lily's injuries hadn’t been as severe. He decided I’d deliberately withheld blood out of jealousy.

He’d dragged me to Amelia’s casket, claiming her...