During a critical heart transplant, my doctor husband insisted his intern assist despite her garish nail art compromising the sterile field.

When I called her out, he abandoned the patient mid-surgery to comfort her.

I begged him to return, but he snapped, "Giselle is upset. Can't you wait? This is nothing compared to her feelings."

40 minutes later, the patient bled out and died.

Later, they discovered that he was our highly respected mayor and placed the blame on me.

"If it weren't for you causing a scene and kicking us out of the operating room, the mayor wouldn't have bled to death. This is all your fault!"

Defenseless, I was sentenced to life in prison, tortured, and died in agony.

My husband and his intern walked down the aisle, enjoying their happy life.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of that fateful surgery.

...

"Herman is the attending doctor. He said I can wear nail art during the surgery. What right do you, as an assistant doctor, have to tell me what to do?"

I opened my eyes to a familiar voice. Without thinking, I glanced around and saw Giselle Atkins' smug face.

I quickly took in my surroundings. This was the operating room where a heart transplant surgery was being performed.

Everyone was suited up, ensuring a sterile environment. But Giselle was different. Not only were her hands adorned with diamonds, but she wasn't even wearing a mask.

That was when I realized something shocking. I had been sent back to the day the mayor was having surgery in our hospital.

In my previous life, Herman Fisher had insisted on letting Giselle assist during the heart transplant. She made mistakes with the instruments, and ignored basic surgical protocol, even almost letting a piece of her nail art fall into the patient's body.

I couldn't hold back my frustration and scolded her.

She left the operating room angrily, and Herman followed her out, abandoning the patient on the table.

I begged him to return and finish the surgery, but he sulked, "Giselle is upset. Can't you wait? This is nothing compared to her feelings."

The patient was neglected for 40 minutes and died in agony.

Later, they learned he was our highly respected mayor and placed the blame on me.

I was defenseless and sentenced to life in prison, where I was tortured and eventually died.

Meanwhile, Herman married Giselle and went on to become the youngest hospital director in history.

Herman's angry voice rang out, bringing me back to reality.

"This is the operating room, not a place for you to get jealous. I approved Giselle's nail art, and you should apologize to her."

I looked at Giselle's smug face and barely restrained my anger. "Why should I apologize? Nail art is prohibited here. Am I wrong?"

She scowled. "You're just targeting me on purpose, aren't you? Fine, I'll leave."

She threw a scalpel onto the table, narrowly missing the patient's artery.

I was both frantic and furious. Just as I picked up the scalpel, I saw Herman trying to chase after Giselle.

I stopped him. "The patient's chest cavity is open. The heart transplant needs to happen immediately, or he could be in grave danger. As a doctor, can you just stand by and watch him die?"

Herman looked in the direction where Giselle had left, then at the patient on the operating table. He gritted his teeth and picked up the scalpel again.

Just as I sighed in relief, his phone rang with a call from Giselle.

...

Herman pressed the speakerphone, and Giselle's angry voice came through the phone.

"If you don't come and make it up to me, I'm going to get really mad."

Herman tried to comfort her. "Just wait a bit. I'll come to you right after I finish this surgery."

Giselle snorted, "If you're not here in five minutes, I'll get rid of the baby in my womb."

The news of her pregnancy hit me like a ton of bricks.

In my previous life, I had thought that it was only after I went to prison that Herman and Giselle got together.

I never expected that they had already been secretly involved and even had a child together.

I hadn't fully recovered from the shock when I saw Herman rush out in a hurry.

I acted quickly, grabbing his arm. "You can't leave. The surgery can't wait."

He glared at me, yelling, "Didn't you hear what Giselle just said? She'll get rid of the baby if I don't get to her. If I don't go now, it'll be too late."

I frowned. "What about the patient?"

He brushed it off. "I'll be back as soon as possible. A few minutes won't make a difference."

I stared at him in disbelief.

A heart transplant surgery was a race against time. Every minute counted. The patient's life was at risk with every second we delayed.

In my previous life, the patient had died because we lost too much time.

I couldn't let that tragedy happen again. I stood my ground, refusing to let Herman leave.

His patience ran out, and he snapped, "Are you trying to get Giselle to abort the baby on purpose?"

Before I could respond, he gave me a forceful shove.

I lost my balance and fell to the ground, my back slamming hard against the operating table.

My grunt didn't make him look back. He just stormed out of the room.

My colleagues rushed to help me up.

"Are you alright? Dr. Fisher went too far. He favors Giselle and hurts you like that."

"I've always suspected something was going on between them. I can't believe they even have a kid together."

I waved a hand. "This isn't the time to talk about that. I need to get him back."

Compared to the surgery, his betrayal was secondary. I couldn't let that tragedy happen again.

As I reached the hallway outside the operating room, I was surrounded by a group of people.

"Doctor, how is he? Did the surgery succeed?"

I recognized them as the mayor's family. Just as I was about to speak, his elderly mother pleaded, "Doctor, please, you must save my son."

His wife, who was seven months pregnant, cried. "Doctor, I'm begging you. They say only your hospital can perform the surgery. Please, you have to save him."

I reassured them solemnly, "Don't worry. We will save him."

By then, Herman was nowhere to be seen. I had to return to the operating room.

Everyone quickly gathered around and looked behind me. "Where is Dr. Fisher?"

I shook my head. "I couldn't catch up to him."

The anesthesiologist panicked. "The patient is under general anesthesia, and his chest cavity is still open. We have to proceed with the surgery. Once the anesthesia wears off, he'll be in unbearable pain."

Another colleague chimed in, "Dr. Fisher is the only person in the whole city who can do this surgery. Flying in an outside surgeon will be too late."

I took a deep breath. "I'll do the surgery. Herman and I were classmates. If he can do it, so can I."

But everyone rejected the idea.

"You're still just an assistant doctor. According to hospital regulations, you can't perform surgery."

"It's better to call Dr. Fisher back."

Seeing their insistence, I swallowed the words that Herman wouldn't be coming back.

Instead, I dialed Herman's number.

...

As soon as the phone connected, I spoke urgently. "Where are you? Hurry back. We're still waiting for you to perform the surgery."

Herman's voice was filled with anger. "Giselle is upset. Can you not urge me now? The surgery is on hold. I'll take care of Giselle and then come back to do it."

The line then went dead.

Everyone in the room exchanged glances, and the anesthesiologist couldn't hold back his frustration.

"This is such an important surgery. If we wait for him, the patient might not make it."

"Try calling him again. We need him here right away. If something happens to the patient, we're all responsible."

I sighed and called Herman again. "The patient's condition is deteriorating. You need to come back right now."

Herman answered impatiently, "The heart transplant is risky from the start. If he's going to die, then it's just his bad luck."

I didn't expect him to say something so irresponsible. I questioned him sharply, "What if something happens to the patient? When the family comes to cause trouble, can you bear the consequences?"

Herman scoffed, "It's just a powerless patient. If they dare to cause trouble, we'll just call the police and have them arrested. Stop calling me. Giselle wants strawberries, and I'm going to buy them for her now."

He hung up again, which ticked off the whole room.

"He's willing to leave a patient in critical condition just to buy strawberries for Giselle? He doesn't deserve to be a doctor!" one of them snapped.

The anesthesiologist shouted, "The patient's blood pressure is dropping rapidly. If we don't operate now, he'll die."

I stepped forward. "I'll do it."

Seeing their hesitation, I added firmly, "No one else here can do the surgery. Are you going to just stand here and watch him die?"

The anesthesiologist looked conflicted. "But this is against protocol. Even if you save him, you'll be held responsible for all the consequences of this surgery."

I remained calm. "Whatever the consequences, I will bear them all. Time is running out. I need your cooperation now."

They exchanged glances, all silently agreeing.

I walked to the operating table, picked up the scalpel, and carefully removed the patient's heart from his chest, then transplanted the prepared heart into his body.

I meticulously sutured the blood vessels, my eyes fixed on the heart monitor.

Seconds ticked by, and suddenly, the monitor showed a heartbeat. Once the heartbeat stabilized, everyone in the room exclaimed in joy, "There's a heartbeat! We did it!"

I focused on stitching the chest cavity closed.

After the surgery was finished, I collapsed onto the floor, exhausted. My back was drenched in sweat.

An hour later, the patient regained consciousness.

His identity was then revealed.