My husband was a leading expert in cardiology and surgery, having saved countless dying patients. But he failed during heart surgery on our twins.

I cried until I collapsed, clutching the children's ashes, while he rushed off with his luggage.

He said he had a surgical procedure waiting out of town.

"Milena, the child was born with a heart defect. Even a god couldn’t save him. Besides, I’m not a god. My deepest condolences. Take good care of yourself. We can have more children."

But that night, Kelly Johansson, his intern anesthesiologist, posted on Instagram.

A grid of photos—Disney fireworks and one of her holding hands with a man.

[The first surgery I supervised, a medical malfunction caused by a mistake in anesthesia dosage, nearly cost me my permanent position. It was so frustrating. Luckily, my sweetheart came on a rainbow cloud to save me.]

The next post was a photo of her standing on tiptoe to kiss a man’s jaw.

[I confessed my love to my sweetheart when it gets over ten likes. The scar on the man’s chin was identical to the one Steven had received when he took the knife for me.]

My already shattered heart finally turned cold. I moved my fingers and replied, [No need for ten. I, your beloved’s wife, agree that you two should be together.]

The next second, the phone rang. Steven’s usually cold voice now carried a sharp edge of anger.

"It’s just a little girl playing a dare and posting on her Instagram. Why would you leave such a shameful comment?"

"She just got admitted to the hospital. You’ll ruin her future. If you want to be mad, post it yourself. Don’t harm others. Ten seconds—delete it, or we’ll divorce."

I hung up and added his name and the intern’s to the list of people assigned to the African branch hospital that the hospital’s management had handed me. Then out on the reason for Major medical malpractice.

Since he wanted to protect her so badly, then let them suffer together. Why was the person who killed my child so happy?

——

Ten seconds later, Steven sent me a question mark. When I didn’t respond, he followed up with another message.

"I’ll have the divorce agreement delivered right now. If you insist on making a scene, then we’ll divorce."

I finally replied, "Okay."

The message "Inputting" kept appearing on the other end, but in the end, he didn’t send anything.

I sent Kelly’s Disneyland grid, along with a screenshot of the medical malpractice news.

"Steven, she killed our child, right?"

All I received was a red exclamation mark. He had blocked me.

I went back to my Instagram, but Kelly’s posts had all been deleted, leaving only a solitary apology.

[The patient treated us to dinner to express his gratitude for saving his child. We got drunk and played games and I lost the dare. The patient’s family asked me to choose a male present to post on Instagram. Doctor Steven was worried I’d feel wronged, so he went along with it. I apologize for causing a bad impression.]

The accompanying image was a crying, bowing kitten.

Steven commented, [Don’t be afraid, Kelly. I’ve got your back. Don’t let them bully you.]

The following comments were endless.

[We all know it. It must have been a joke. Just a disgusting joke from the family. There’s nothing we can do about it.]

[Someone? Could it be Doctor Steven’s? Doctor Steven is so pitiful. He has a crazy wife. It’s unfortunate that she lost her child. And yet, she’s been causing trouble at the hospital every day, insisting that Doctor Steven and Kelly were responsible for her child’s death.]

[Doctor Steven is so domineering and protective.]

I sneered, wrote down each of their names and added them to the list.

The original intention behind establishing the private hospital had been to make Steven one of the top cardiologists in the country. I had invested the most money and managed the publicity.

Now, he truly was the hospital’s chief physician, praised by everyone. Even his most favored and beloved protégé, Kelly, had risen to prominence. And yet, I—the hospital’s largest shareholder—was now being used as a stepping stone beneath their feet.

Perhaps they believed I loved Steven too deeply, or that the hospital owed its current success solely to him. I hadn’t dared to anger Steven; both the hospital and I feared losing him. But they had forgotten—it was my hospital that had made him successful. Without him, I could have trained many other leading specialists.

Kelly replied to everyone’s comments with a smiling cat emoji and then sent Steven a kiss emoji in response.

The doorbell rang suddenly. It was the delivery man handed me a signed divorce agreement and a bag. I asked what it was.

He hesitated before replying, "A woman asked me to give this to you. She said you’re nearing menopause... bad temper of an old woman and she won’t bother with you anymore. This contains a menopausal oral solution. But... you look only about thirty."

I calmly told him to throw away the things Kelly had used to provoke me, then closed the door.

I took out the divorce agreement and carefully signed my name.

My phone vibrated a few times. It was a message from the hospital’s HR manager:

"Mrs. Parker, would you please reconsider? It doesn't matter with the others, but how could you send Doctor Steven and Kelly to Africa?"

"I know you’re upset after losing your children and you’re angry with Doctor Steven. But please keep your public and private lives separate and don’t resort to such dirty tactics. Not only are you harming two talented people, but you’re also costing countless patients their chance at survival."

I replied calmly, "You have a point. I forgot to punish you. You’re fired and I’ll have a third party take over your duties."

Right after that, I immediately contacted the third-party management group and asked them to take full control of the hospital’s personnel and logistics.

"Anyone who pleads for Steven and Kelly will be sent to Africa. Those who refuse will be required to reimburse their initial training costs."

I gently touched the children’s urns, speaking word by word.

The doctors who supported Kelly in the comments were all impoverished students I had once sponsored with my own money. I had given them the opportunity to study abroad. In the end, all they cared about was currying favor with Steven. They had completely forgotten who trained them to become excellent doctors.

As expected, they followed Steven’s lead. All ungrateful people were the same. People with eyes only for power and profit could never become truly good doctors. They needed to suffer more to understand the real meaning of a doctor’s compassion.

After hanging up, I noticed Steven had called me more than a dozen times in a row.

Finally, perhaps in a fit of rage, he even added me as a friend again—with the note: “Answering call.”

Just then, a new call came in. I answered. As soon as I picked up, he hurled insults at me.

"Are you crazy? I'm about to get my professional title reviewed and Kelly is getting a full-time job and you actually reported us to the African branch."

"Milena, the child is gone. I know you’re upset, but it’s God’s will! Our children were born with a condition. Even gods couldn’t save them. They were destined to die. It wasn’t me, nor Kelly, who wanted to harm them!"

He was panting, "I’ve told you countless times and you still insist on making things difficult for Kelly. I didn’t let you check the surveillance footage because I didn’t want you to keep going crazy! I didn’t expect you to start spreading obscene rumors about Kelly and I didn’t expect you to abuse your position and send her to Africa!"

His usually calm voice was now panting with rage.

I simply asked him, "Are you really in such a hurry to leave because of the flying knife surgery? Was Kelly's post on Instagram really a drunken family member forcing you to play games? Or are you in such a hurry to leave just to accompany your young disciple to Disneyland?"

His breathing suddenly stopped on the other end of the line. There was silence for two seconds.

"What nonsense are you talking about? It's not happening. You're really... delusional..."

Then came Kelly's voice, "Doctor Steven, the fireworks are about to start. You finally came out to relax and I don't want your mood to be affected by my situation. When I get back, I'll personally apologize to your wife, even if I have to kneel down."

The phone was immediately disconnected. I guessed he was afraid of missing the beautiful fireworks?

I held the children's urns, tears streaming down my face. "Mom will never let them go."

I didn’t remember when I fell asleep; I only knew I cried until I was out of breath.

I woke up the next day, my eyes so swollen I couldn’t open them. I simply put on my sunglasses and went downstairs, only to see a busy figure moving around below.

Steven came out with porridge. He was stunned for a moment when he saw me, but then smiled nonchalantly.

"Are you up? I made you breakfast, have some. I know you’ll be thinking too much about what happened yesterday. I didn’t even bother to rest and flew back overnight."

I opened my mouth, about to say no, when a brisk figure in my pajamas rushed out of the bathroom. She threw herself into Steven’s arms, saying sweetly, "Doctor Steven, you look so much like a married man. I love men who look like married men."

Steven quickly pulled her off him, his tone flustered, "You’re so grown and you still act like a child."

He turned to explain, "It was raining when we landed and we got soaked. I asked Kelly to go home and change clothes, but she insisted on coming with me to apologize to you, so I took out your clothes for her to change into."

Kelly stuck out her tongue and said to me, "Mrs. Brandy, I’m here to apologize. I was really joking yesterday! If you’re worried, I’ll find someone to date this weekend and get married quickly. It won’t affect your relationship at all."

"Kelly! Don’t mess around!" Steven called out, then noticed my sarcastic smile and quickly added, "What I mean is, my wife has always been gentle and kind. She’s definitely forgiven you. There’s no need for you to randomly date men."

Then he turned to me, "Isn’t that right, Milena? Let’s just leave yesterday’s matter behind and let it go, okay?"

My child’s body was still warm and he was already flirting with his new love beneath the fireworks. And now he wanted me to let it go? Of course.

I put on a sarcastic smile, "It’s okay. I don’t mind."

Anyway, he would be leaving for Africa soon too. What their relationship was, where they went last night, or what they did—I didn’t care.

Hearing me say this, Steven seemed relieved, pushing his gold-rimmed glasses up, "I’m glad you’re sensible. I’ve postponed all the surgeries I’m currently doing and will be with you for the time being. I’ll go back to work when you’re feeling better and the children’s seventh day of mourning has passed."

I calmly replied, "Okay."

He was the child’s father; he should be by the urn, accompanying them through the seventh day of mourning.

A hint of displeasure flashed in Kelly’s eyes. With a quick roll of her eyes, she suddenly snatched the bowl of soup from Steven’s hand and walked toward me.