My genius heart surgeon husband slept with the hospital director's daughter to climb the corporate ladder.
He begged me on his knees: "Scarlett, I was set up! Her father is the director!"
For seven years of marriage, I swallowed my pride during his crucial bid for department head.
Then Maya showed up at my doorstep, pregnant.
My mother-in-law pointed at my face and screamed: "You can't even have children! Go make soup for Maya!"
During a high-risk heart bypass surgery, Maya made a fatal mistake that caused massive bleeding.
I called her out. My husband defended her in front of the entire operating room:
"Enough! Maya is pregnant. Don't be so hard on her!"
Then he walked out with Maya, leaving a dying patient on the table.
I fought to save that patient—and they blamed me for everything.
The suspension notice came the day he was promoted.
I clutched my stomach, eaten away by years of stress and ulcers, and dialed the number of a man I'd only met once.
"Dr. Sterling? I've changed my mind about your offer."
Chapter 1
Three minutes of surgical scrub. Standard protocol for any surgeon.
Today's heart bypass was critical for Ethan's chance at becoming department head. Everyone in the OR was on edge.
I stood as first assistant on his right. Maya, the second assistant, showed up five minutes late.
I saw Ethan's brow furrow for a second. But he said nothing.
"Sorry. My father needed me." Maya lifted her chin, arrogance dripping from her voice.
No one dared say anything to the director's daughter. Not even the lead surgeon, Ethan.
The surgery reached its critical moment. Ethan was about to graft the coronary artery bypass.
I noticed Maya's hand was unsteady. Her instrument was angled wrong—dangerously close to the vessel.
"Dr. Reed, your angle is off. Be careful not to damage the vessel." I spoke immediately.
Maya stiffened, her face flickering with irritation, but she adjusted her grip.
Ethan was focused on the surgery. He seemed not to notice.
Ten minutes later, Maya made another mistake. She nearly punctured the aorta.
"Dr. Reed! Stop immediately. Your technique is dangerous." I raised my voice.
Maya's face went pale. She bit her lip and looked at Ethan.
To my shock, he frowned at me.
The OR went dead silent. But I held my ground. "Surgical protocols exist for a reason. This patient's life is at stake."
Maya pretended to comply, nodding meekly. Then she stepped back—and "accidentally" knocked over the instrument tray.
"You pushed me!" she shrieked, her eyes gleaming with triumph beneath her mask.
The OR erupted in chaos.
I was about to defend myself when the heart monitor went wild.
"V-fib!" I shouted, already reaching for the defibrillator.
Logic screamed at me: shock the heart immediately. Every second counted.
But Ethan didn't address the crisis. In that life-or-death moment, he turned to Maya. "Are you okay? Did she scare you?"
I couldn't believe my ears.
"Dr. Bennett, the patient is in v-fib!" My voice cracked.
He finally turned—not to save the patient, but to attack me.
"Scarlett, what the hell are you doing? You've been interfering since the start, and now you knocked over the instrument tray?"
The room was dead quiet except for the screaming heart monitor.
"I didn't push her." My voice was desperate. But my hands never stopped reaching for the defibrillator.
"Enough!" Ethan's voice was ice. "Control your jealousy! Dr. Reed's family and education are just as good as yours!"
The words hit my face like a slap.
Seven years of marriage. He had never humiliated me like this in public.
My eyes burned. Tears pooled, but I refused to let them fall.
Ethan walked to Maya, his voice soft. "Don't worry. I'm here."
"Dr. Bennett, the patient is crashing!" the anesthesiologist shouted.
I thought he would come back. Cardiac arrest causes brain death in four minutes.
Instead, he put his arm around Maya and headed for the door. "Dr. Clarke seems so capable. Let her handle it."
He walked out. With her. Leaving a dying patient and a stunned surgical team.
I swallowed my breakdown and took over.
"Charging to 200 joules!"
We stabilized the patient. We finished the surgery. My scrubs were soaked with sweat. I couldn't afford to relax.
Every move after Ethan left fell on my shoulders.
I thought he would apologize. The next day at the department meeting, Ethan said calmly: "The complications yesterday were Dr. Clarke's fault. She disrupted the surgical process."
Maya sat beside him, head down, playing the victim. Saying nothing to defend me.
No one in that room spoke for me. Not one of the colleagues who watched everything.
Three days later, the director chaired a medical review. I was publicly condemned as a cautionary tale.
"Jealous of a colleague. Disrupted surgery. Nearly caused a medical disaster."
The hospital suspended me indefinitely.
Everyone knew the truth. This was the director protecting his daughter.
When the suspension notice came, Ethan stood beside Maya, watching me with cold, indifferent eyes.
In that moment, I realized I had never truly known the man I'd shared a bed with for seven years.
