"Mom. Dad."

My hands trembled in my lap, but my voice stayed steady. "I am still getting this divorce. I only came back so you could witness it with your own eyes."

The smiles vanished from their faces.

"Fiona! How can you be so ungrateful?" my father snapped. "Adrian has—"

"Mom, Dad, please go home first." Adrian's calm voice cut through the tension. "There is a misunderstanding between Fiona and me. I need to explain it to her."

He ushered them out. Charming. Respectful. The perfect son-in-law until the elevator doors closed.

He turned.

He shut the door.

The lock clicked.

The warmth evaporated from the room.

"Fiona."

He reached for me. I slapped his hand away.

"You're making me very sad." The sigh that escaped him was patronizing, practiced. "Zoe has done a lot for you. What you said last night... it was cruel."

He stepped closer, his voice taking on that coaxing tone one uses with a toddler. "Alright. About the slap... that was my fault. I apologize."

Before I could react, he grabbed my hand and pressed it against his own cheek. Not hard. Just firm enough.

A performance.

"There. Hit me back. Don't be angry anymore, Fiona."

I wrenched my hand free, staring at him in horror.

He didn't notice.

"Zoe specializes in cardiothoracic surgery," he continued, as if discussing the weather. "Her involvement is critical for your treatment. She wants you to get better. She stayed up for nights researching your case. When we found that potential donor, she was more anxious than I was. Yesterday was just—"

"Is that so?"

My voice sliced through his monologue.

"Then her anxiety has certainly paid off. I'm still lingering in this half-life, surviving but not living. Isn't that exactly what you two want? Using my illness as an excuse to play house together?"

The mask of the doting husband cracked.

His eyes went cold. He looked at me the way he looked at a difficult case file. An unruly patient who refused to follow protocol.

"Fiona, I don't think we can have a rational conversation right now." He walked to the coat rack, pulling on his jacket. "I have surgery tonight. I expect you to be here when I get back. Mom and Dad are old; stop making them worry with your tantrums."

He adjusted his collar with precise movements.

"Adrian." I spoke to his back. "Whether you agree or not, I am divorcing you. If you won't sign, I'll file unilaterally."

He paused. Glanced over his shoulder.

It was the look I hated most—professional patience layered over utter contempt.

"You are emotionally unstable. The stress is bad for your heart. We will talk when you calm down."

"I have *never* been calmer!"

*Bang.*

The door slammed shut. He was gone.

When did he become this monster?

It started when Zoe Preston arrived at the hospital.

She was his junior, a fellow alum from our university. Years ago, she'd joined his advisor's research group. Adrian had always been intense about academics—top of his class, driven by a singular purpose.

I remembered his graduation speech. He stood on that stage, the outstanding student representative, looking out at the crowd but seeing only me.

*"Some study medicine for prestige, or from a benevolent desire to save the world,"* he had said, his voice ringing through the hall.

*"But those reasons are far from me."*

*"My fiancée has congenital heart disease."*

*"I don't want to stand powerless while she lies in the ICU, begging others for a miracle. I want to understand this illness. I want to master the heart, so that I never have to watch her fall into danger again."*

That speech was still pinned to the top of the university forum.

A testament to a love that no longer existed.

Adrian Farley swept into the public eye, and he took me with him.

The university forums were relentless. *Adrian treats her like a princess. Their love restores my faith in romance.* Post after post, comment after comment.

And back then? I believed every word.

Heaven had cursed me with a crippled heart, but it had compensated me with Adrian Farley. That's what I told myself. That's what made the endless hospital visits bearable.

Then came Zoe Preston.

She slipped into our lives like smoke through a cracked window—a junior in Adrian's research group. At first, it was innocent. Academic discussions after class. Competition prep sessions.

Then meals.

Then walks home.

Adrian mentioned her casually at first. "She's hardworking. Real talent for medicine."

But her name started falling from his lips with increasing frequency. Like a song he couldn't stop humming.

"Fiona, Zoe is so clumsy sometimes. Still asks me about the simplest questions."

"Fiona, Zoe got a reservation at that exclusive Sichuan place. But your heart can't handle spice, so I'm not taking you."

"Fiona..."

He eventually left that project group.

Because I forced him to.

Now, staring at the empty apartment, I printed a fresh copy of the divorce agreement. My hand didn't shake as I signed it. I left it on the living room table where he couldn't miss it, grabbed my luggage, and walked out.

Before shutting the door, I sent Adrian a text.

*The divorce papers are on the table. Refuse to sign, and I'll see you in court.*

By the time my parents called, I had already secured a rental. I answered via video. My mother's background was the very apartment they had bought me before the marriage.

"Fiona! Why are you being so stubborn?" Her face contorted with frustration. "Look at you—"

I hung up.

My thumbs moved across the screen.

*Mom, this is between Adrian and me. Keep pushing, and I don't know what I might do.*

A notification pinged from the "A Loving Family" group chat. Dad.

*Fiona Mason, we have spoiled you rotten all these years!*

*Adrian treats you like gold—what exactly are you making a fuss about?*

*Let me tell you, if you insist on this divorce, then I, Zion Mason, have no daughter!*

I left the group chat. Blocked both their numbers.

In the capital, every inch of land costs a fortune. Renting a decent place wasn't cheap. But I had savings. During graduate school, I'd studied design and posted my work online. Over time, a following accumulated. Commissions filled my inbox constantly.

Adrian had always insisted my health was too fragile for work.

But now...

I opened my dashboard, scrolled through the requests, and picked a few that sparked my interest.

*Omg, Master! You actually replied!*

*Happy dance.jpg*

*Risveglio, add me on WeChat, let's talk details.*

*Okay!*

After finalizing everything, I threw myself into the work. Body and soul.

As expected, I worked myself right back into the hospital.

This time, my attending physician had changed. The name tag read *Dr. Simmons*.

"Did you bring your previous medical records?"

I handed over the file. He looked up. His eyes widened.

"Is there a problem, Doctor?"

"Senior Sister Fiona?"

"You know me?"

"Same year as Dr. Preston." A polite smile played on his lips. "Followed Senior Brother Adrian on a few projects too. You might not remember me. Mason Simmons."

The world really was too small.

...

Three days in the hospital. Neither Adrian nor Zoe appeared.

According to the nurses, they were away on a business trip.

Bored in my ward, I watched the TV mounted on the wall. An interview program was airing.

Adrian's face filled the screen.

"Being able to win this honor... I owe everything to my wife."

"She suffers from congenital heart disease." His voice dripped with rehearsed sincerity. "For her sake, I am willing to devote my entire life to cardiac surgery."

The same rhetoric.

Nauseating.

The nurse adjusting my IV drip sighed dreamily. "Miss Fiona, you are so blessed. Dr. Farley treats you so well."

She finished and left. Moments later, Dr. Simmons arrived for rounds. He glanced at the TV, a playful, almost mocking expression flickering across his face.

"So many years, and Senior Brother Adrian is still playing the same tune."

"Is that what you all think?"

Mason Simmons just smiled. No answer. "Your vitals are stable. Discharge in a couple of days."

"Mm."

The program droned on. Adrian spewed professional jargon that flew over the audience's heads. Then the host leaned in.

"Dr. Farley, you're so devoted to your wife. Presumably she's watching right now. Anything you'd like to say to her?"

Adrian picked up the microphone, wearing that same disgusting, soulful expression.

"My wife has some misunderstandings about me right now. I want to tell her this: Fiona, no matter what, I will cure you. Whether it takes three years, five years, or ten... with recent technological breakthroughs, the day isn't far off."

The camera panned to the audience. Many dabbed at their eyes, moved by this fairy-tale romance.

Then Zoe Preston, sitting right beside him, took the microphone.

"As a doctor, and as a junior colleague..." Her voice trembled. "I want to say a few words on behalf of Senior Brother Adrian."

"Fiona, Senior Brother has given everything for you. To act like this now... it really chills the heart."

She raised a hand, wiping at a nonexistent tear. "I just feel it's not worth it for him."

Adrian didn't correct her.

Of course he didn't.

Why ruin a moment that polished his halo so perfectly?

"I know my presence has caused Fiona to misunderstand Senior Brother Adrian." Zoe played the martyr flawlessly. "So I want to announce here: I have already submitted my resignation. Fiona, if you can hear this, please—go home."