Mine to Mistake

POV of Victoria

The sterile scent of antiseptic burned Victoria's nostrils as her stiletto heels clicked against the linoleum floor, echoing down the deserted hospital corridor. It was nearly midnight, and the emergency wing was eerily quiet, save for the beeping of machines and the occasional hushed murmur from a nurse's station. Victoria's heart pounded in her chest, each beat fueling the simmering rage that threatened to consume her.

She rounded the corner, her designer coat fluttering behind her like a dark cloud, and spotted Nathan standing at the far end of the hall. His back was to her, broad shoulders hunched under his white coat, his hands shoved into the pockets as if he were trying to disappear into himself.

"Dr. Hart," Victoria called out, her voice sharp enough to cut through steel.

Nathan turned, his expression impassive, his eyes meeting hers with a cold detachment that made her stomach churn. He didn't even flinch at her presence, as if he'd expected her—or worse, as if he didn't care.

"Victoria," he said, his tone clipped and formal. Not "Vicky," not "my wife." Just "Victoria." The name hung between them like a challenge, a reminder of the growing chasm in their marriage.

Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, nails digging into her palms. "You canceled our anniversary dinner," she stated, her voice trembling with barely contained fury. "For this? To play doctor to some nurse who couldn't handle a little fever?"

Nathan's jaw tightened, his gaze never wavering. "Emily is sick," he replied simply, as if that explained everything.

"Sick?" Victoria let out a bitter laugh, the sound echoing harshly in the sterile hallway. "I'm sure she is. Sick with attention-seeking, maybe."

His lips thinned into a hard line, and for a moment, something flickered in his eyes—something Victoria couldn't quite place. It was gone before she could grasp it, replaced by that same infuriating calm.

"You're not her," he muttered under his breath, so softly she almost didn't catch it.

"What did you say?" Victoria demanded, stepping closer, her chest heaving with barely contained rage.

Nathan didn't answer. Instead, he turned on his heel and strode away, leaving her standing there, seething and confused.

***

Victoria's hands trembled as she gripped the steering wheel, her eyes fixed on the apartment building across the street. She'd followed Nathan here, her heart pounding in her chest as she watched him enter Emily's apartment. Over two hours had passed since he'd disappeared inside, and every minute felt like an eternity.

When Nathan finally emerged, his shoulders slumped and his expression unreadable, Victoria was out of her car before she could think. She stormed across the parking lot, her heels clicking on the asphalt.

"Nathan!" she called, her voice sharp and commanding.

He stopped mid-step, turning to face her. For a moment, they just stared at each other, the tension between them crackling like electricity in the air.

"What is she to you?" Victoria demanded, her voice low and dangerous.

Nathan sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Nothing's happened," he said, but there was a flicker of guilt in his eyes that made her stomach twist.

"Then why are you here?" she pressed, her voice rising despite her best efforts to keep it steady.

He opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. Instead, he just stood there, silent and guilty-looking.

Victoria's heart sank. She didn't need him to say it; she could see it in his eyes. Whatever was going on with Emily, it was more than just a simple nurse's ailment. And whatever it was, it was tearing their marriage apart.

***

The next morning, Victoria stormed into her office at Chen Media Group, her heels clicking sharply against the polished marble floors. She barely acknowledged Chloe's greeting as she swept past her assistant's desk and into her private office.

"Get me the marketing team," she barked over her shoulder. "Now."

Chloe nodded, scurrying off to gather the necessary personnel. Within minutes, Victoria was seated at the head of the conference table, surrounded by her top executives.

The meeting was a blur of sharp critiques and biting remarks as Victoria tore apart proposal after proposal. Her usual razor-sharp focus was honed to a deadly edge, slicing through every argument and excuse presented to her.

By the end of the hour-long meeting, the room was silent, everyone exchanging nervous glances. Even Chloe looked shell-shocked as she gathered her notes and followed Victoria back to her office.

"Vicky," Chloe ventured cautiously as she closed the door behind them, "are you okay? You seem...off."

Victoria's laugh was short and bitter. "Off?" she repeated, dropping into her chair. "I'm fine. Just tired of incompetence."

Chloe hesitated, then nodded. "Well, if you ever need to talk—"

"I don't," Victoria snapped, cutting her off. She immediately regretted it; Chloe was one of the few people she trusted, one of the few who saw beyond the icy façade to the woman beneath.

But right now, Victoria couldn't afford to be vulnerable. She had a reputation to uphold, a business to run, and a marriage to salvage—or destroy.

***

That evening, Victoria returned to their penthouse apartment, exhausted and drained. She found Nathan asleep on the couch, his phone lying open on the coffee table beside him.

Without thinking, she picked it up and began scrolling through his messages. At first, there was nothing out of the ordinary—texts from colleagues, reminders about surgeries and meetings.

And then she saw it—a string of conversations with Emily that went back months. Years, even. Each message was filled with Nathan's musings about some woman he referred to only as "her." His "white moonlight," he called her.

Victoria's hands shook as she read on, her stomach twisting with each new revelation. The girl he'd saved from drowning when he was seventeen. His perfect fantasy of what love should be.

And then she saw Emily's name mentioned—how she reminded him of this girl, how she made him feel like he was seventeen again.

Tears blurred Victoria's vision as she scrolled through the messages, each word cutting deeper than the last. How could he do this to her? How could he compare her to some fantasy?

The phone slipped from her fingers, clattering onto the table as she sank to the floor beside it. Her body shook with silent sobs, the weight of his betrayal crashing down on her like a tidal wave.

How had it come to this? How had their love turned into such a cruel mockery?