Playing the tearful victim, she'd dressed herself up as the poor thing being bullied by a senior colleague.

A crowd had gathered outside the department door — doctors, nurses, patients, families — all of them pointing at me.

"She always seemed like such a decent doctor. Who knew she was really like this?"

"You can know a person's face and never know their heart. Who knows how much dirty money she's taking."

"Pregnant and still can't let it rest. She's going home to raise a kid, but she's got to hog the title too?"

I looked to my own colleagues. Most of them avoided my eyes, ducking their heads to fake being busy or shrinking back half a step with strained faces.

No one would speak up for me.

The chill of standing utterly alone crawled up my spine, colder than the pain splitting my lower back.

Isaac tucked her against him like she was precious, his voice ridiculously soft.

"Joyce, you don't have to give an inch to her. You earned that title on your own merit."

But when he turned to me, his eyes were like ice.

"Now. Apologize to Joyce this instant. Handwrite a three-thousand-word self-criticism, deliver it in front of everyone at tomorrow's meeting. Your bonus for the year is canceled. You're suspended pending review!"

Listening to him, I was shaking all over.

Not from anger. From how cold it left me.

I stared straight into his eyes and spoke, one word at a time.

"I won't apologize."

His face changed in an instant.

"Marion, you're defying your superior. Do you think I won't fire you?"

"No need. I quit!"

I pulled out my resignation letter and slapped it on the desk.

His expression darkened.

"Marion, do you have any idea what you're saying?"

I didn't look at him. I fit the last thermos into the cardboard box.

"I said I'm resigning. I'm done."

His face went black.

"You're threatening me with resignation? You think Cardiology can't run without you?"

"Think whatever you want."

Joyce chimed in from the side, all snide sweetness. "Marion, you're a high-risk pregnancy at your age. Isaac's only thinking of your health. Don't play hard to get and make things difficult for him like this."

Isaac looked at me like he'd caught a glimpse of some filthy scheme in my head.

He gave a little laugh. The certain kind.

"Marion, your connections, your network, your resources are all through me. You're an associate chief physician. Away from this hospital, you're nothing!"

"Then let's find out."

I turned to leave. He roared after me, beside himself.

"Marion, don't forget, you're pregnant. What hospital is going to pay top dollar for some deadweight about to go on maternity leave?"

I didn't slow down.

"Then Director Henson needn't trouble himself about it."

"Marion, you'll regret this!"

I looked back and met his eyes coldly.

"I do regret it. I regret not waking up sooner."

With that, I carried my box to the door.

I stopped. Turned back.

"One more thing. The divorce agreement — I'll send it to your email."

And without a glance at his ashen face, I walked out and didn't look back.

Out of the department, I went straight to OB-GYN and booked the procedure to end the pregnancy.

Then I had a lawyer friend draft a divorce agreement and sent it straight to Isaac.

His message came instantly.

【Marion, what is this supposed to mean? You want to divorce me over something this small? You want to be a single mother】

I ignored him and drove home.

Only at home did I see it — the whole stretch of my lower back was mottled purple.

I touched my flat belly, and the tears came rushing down.

See, your daddy doesn't even care about you. Born into this, you'd have no one to love you either.

I got out a box and started packing my clothes.

The smart lock clicked open, and Isaac came storming in.

"Marion, what is this? Why did you book an abortion?"

I shot him a sidelong look.

"Are you an idiot? Why do you keep asking why? I mean it exactly the way I said it. I'm not keeping the baby."

"That baby belongs to both of us. What gives you the right to get rid of it?"

My head snapped toward him.

"So you do know the baby is yours. You didn't hold back one bit when you shoved me earlier!"

He froze, his expression turning awkward.

"I— I was panicking. I was afraid you'd do something you'd regret."

"Afraid I'd do something wrong, or afraid your precious little sweetheart would get hurt? Isaac, you didn't ask me a single question before you pinned the blame on me. In your heart, am I just some vicious woman who frames people?"

His face tightened, and no words came.

I zipped the suitcase shut and dragged it toward the door.

He threw out an arm to block me, his face all long-suffering patience, as if I were the one being unreasonable.

"Isn't this enough? You spent three years trying to conceive, swallowed all those bitter medicines, and now you can bring yourself to just throw it away?"

"If you don't want it, why should I keep it?"

I laughed, and the laugh turned to tears.

"Isaac, you know exactly how many years I waited for that Chief Physician title, everything I gave up for it. And you still handed it to Joyce, who isn't worth one finger of mine."

"You know exactly how hard it was for me to have this child, and you still shoved me aside with your own hands, not caring whether the baby lived or died, all for Joyce. Since you care about her that much, I'll let you have her."

"I already sent you the divorce agreement, Isaac. Let's part on good terms."

I opened the door and walked out without looking back.

Isaac's furious voice came from behind me.

"Marion, do you have to make this so ugly? Have you even thought about it? A twice-divorced woman who's had an abortion, who's ever going to marry her? Who's going to support you?"

"Don't think a little medical skill means you can look down on the hospital. You want to quit? One word from me, and I'd like to see who dares to take you on!"

The last bit of hope in me shattered completely.

I turned back and looked at him.

"A woman doesn't prove her worth by marrying. I have two hands and two feet. I don't need a man to support me."

"And I forgot to tell you. I already have an offer from Puren Hospital. I start this afternoon."

The expression on his face froze, then cracked apart, piece by piece.

I turned away without emotion and stepped into the elevator.

At Puren, the Director of Puren Hospital walked me through the onboarding himself. It was done in under ten minutes.

The Chief of Cardiology had a private suite of an office, the floor-to-ceiling windows clean and full of light.

A pot of gardenias sat on the brand-new desk, a faint fragrance drifting at the tip of my nose.

Everything was a fresh start.

In my first two days I performed five surgeries, two of them heart transplants.

The patients recovered well, with no complications.

The way my colleagues looked at me shifted from that first appraising scrutiny to genuine respect.

The families were moved to tears, and even brought me a banner and letters of thanks.

My fifth day on the job was also the day I'd scheduled the abortion.

I was lying on the table, about to be put under, when the door of the operating room was shoved open.

Isaac hauled me up, his face frantic.

"Marion, wait. Get to the cardiac surgery suite, now!"