As my uterine fibroids flared up, I was desperately waiting for my husband, John, to take me to the hospital. But instead of him, I found a post from his childhood sweetheart, Chloe Williams, on social media.

Immediately, a pang of jealousy and suspicion hit me. Why was Chloe with him instead of me during my time of need? My thoughts raced as I struggled to make sense of it.

Curious and concerned, I clicked on her post. What I saw next shattered me:

[Shoutout to my fantastic guy for grabbing the morning-after pill, or I'd be a mom right now!]

The post included a picture of my husband holding her hand while she clutched the emergency contraceptive in hers.

Despite the searing pain in my lower abdomen, I couldn't resist leaving a comment under her post:

[Are you with my husband? Why is he doing with you?]

When I hit "send," the knot in my stomach tightened even further. I had to wait for Chloe's response, my mind spinning, uncertain about what would happen next.

Almost immediately, John called me. His voice was seething with anger as he spat, "Leia, you're disgusting! How could you ask such a thing in public? You deserve to have fertility problems!"

Before I could even react, the pain in my abdomen overwhelmed me, and the world went dark.

——

The next thing I knew, I woke up in the hospital. The first thing I noticed was the hollowness in my body. My uterus had been removed. As the memory of what happened flooded back, I saw John standing by my bedside. His expression was cold as he delivered the news without any hint of empathy.

"You might have lost your ability to have kids," he said flatly, "but Chloe can't live without me."

I was lost, staring at his face in disbelief. When I groggily regained consciousness, I felt someone holding my hand tightly. As I fully opened my eyes, I realized it was John. Anger surged through me instantly, and I yanked my hand away, turning my face from him.

"Why aren't you with your little childhood sweetheart? What are you doing here, John?" I snapped, my voice trembling with rage.

John frowned, clearly annoyed by my question. "Chloe got played by some jerk and ended up in a tough spot. She was too embarrassed to get the morning-after pill herself, so I helped her out. And that comment you left? Seriously? You made me look awful. How do you think people are going to see me and Chloe now?"

A swell of nausea washed over me, but I forced myself to stay composed.

"You know how it is with Chloe," he continued as if it was the most natural thing in the world. "She's like a little sister to me. She's called me 'brother' forever. With her parents gone, you know I couldn't just leave her hanging."

His face softened as John talked about her, and his eyes filled with a tenderness I rarely saw directed at me. Yet, I couldn't help but remember how, throughout our relationship, it was always me who had to run to the pharmacy, masked and hidden, to buy emergency contraceptives after our "accidents." He always refused When I asked him to go, claiming it was too embarrassing for a man.

But for Chloe, he had no hesitation. No embarrassment. No excuses.

Six months ago, I was diagnosed with uterine fibroids. At the time, they were small, and I had wanted to have surgery early on, but John brushed it off, saying it wasn't serious and that we could wait. We delayed it for half a year until the pain became unbearable. Desperate, I begged him to take me to the hospital.

His response? He was too busy.

John told me to endure it a little longer or call an ambulance myself. I was terrified, as I'd never had surgery before. All I wanted was for him to be by my side. But I soon discovered that his 'busy' schedule had actually involved helping Chloe buy emergency contraceptives. At that moment, the painful truth became crystal clear.

Chloe was more important to him than I ever was.

Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I forced back the tears threatening to spill and stared at the ceiling. "John, do you seriously think grabbing medicine for a woman who's too embarrassed to go to the pharmacy is more important than taking your wife, who's in serious pain, to the hospital?"

John sighed, sounding defensive. "Leia, come on. It only took a few minutes to get the medicine, and you didn't seem like it was that serious. Waiting a bit longer wouldn't have made a difference, so..."

I let out a cold, bitter laugh, and the tears I'd held back finally broke free. "So even if I passed out or died from the pain, you'd still put getting Chloe's medicine first? John, you're not her caring brother. Are you her lapdog?"

My words hit the mark. John's face darkened, his teeth clenched in anger. "Leia, you're nuts! I've told you a million times. Nothing is going on between Chloe and me, but you won't drop it! She got screwed over by some jerk and was heartbroken. What's so wrong with me helping her out and getting her medicine? Why do you have to be so mean and nasty?" His voice grew louder with every word, his frustration spilling over.

Suddenly, a nurse walked in, cutting him off. "Sir, please keep your voice down. You're upsetting the patient."

John, still fuming, shot me one last glare before forcing himself to calm down.

"I talked to the doctor earlier. It's not a big deal! You need to get the fibroids removed," he said dismissively.

Without even looking at me, he added, "I've got things to do. Let me know when the surgery's set."

With that, John turned and walked out of the room. As I watched his cold, distant figure disappear from view, my heart completely froze.

I didn't need to guess. I knew John had gone to be with Chloe, his childhood sweetheart, again. I had always known that a part of his heart never let go of her. From the beginning, when we first got together, he didn't try to hide it. At the time, I naively thought it meant he was just a man with deep feelings.

However, as time passed, it became painfully clear that their relationship was far more complicated than I had imagined. Chloe wasn't just his ex-girlfriend.

No, she was John's first love.

They shared a sweet, innocent romance before heading to different universities. After graduation, they ended up in other cities, and naturally, their relationship fizzled out.

But life has a funny way of bringing people back together. A while ago, Chloe, who had been studying medicine, was transferred to our city's hospital. When John heard the news, his old feelings for her reignited instantly.

Though they tried to play the part of childhood neighbors, their actions were more like those of a couple in the early stages of a new romance. This became even more apparent the day John brought me to the hospital where Chloe worked instead of our usual place. It was clear he wanted to see her as much as possible.

Trying to shake off those thoughts, I closed my eyes and attempted to rest. But moments later, a voice startled me.

"Leia, how are you feeling? I came to check on you."

The sound of that voice made me stiffen immediately. I opened my eyes fully, and there she was.

Chloe Williams.

"Why are you here, Chloe?" I asked coldly.

"What do you mean? I'm a gynecologist. Why wouldn't I be here?" she replied.

I eyed her with suspicion, not ready to believe her intentions.

"No! I don't want you as my doctor. I want someone else," I demanded firmly.

Just then, an intern nearby chimed in, sounding bored. "Mrs. Quinn, Dr. Williams was brought in from another city because she's the top expert in gynecological surgery. All the other doctors are fully booked. You really don't want to let personal stuff get in the way of your treatment, right? Plus, doctors have ethics. Personal issues don't mess with their work. But hey, if you still don't trust her, you can always switch hospitals." He smirked, adding, "Oh, and just so you know, the main hospital is fully booked for the next month, too."

Chloe gave me this smug little grin like she'd already won. "Do you really think I'd throw my career away over John?"

"Wouldn't you?" I snapped back, still glaring at her.

She sighed, pretending to act innocent. "This hospital's got strict rules. Every surgery is recorded and monitored. I'm not stupid enough to ruin my career over something like this," she said calmly. Then, after a pause, she added, "And I think you've got the wrong idea about me and John. Nothing is going on between us, Leia."

Her words seemed reasonable, but my gut told me otherwise. I wasn't buying it for a second. Without hesitation, I threw off the blanket and swung my legs over the side of the bed.

"Fine. I'm not getting surgery here. I'll go somewhere else if I have to. There are plenty of hospitals out there. I'll find one!" I shot back.

Suddenly, the door slammed open, and John stormed in, looking pissed.

"Leia, what the hell are you doing?! Do you even know how hard it was to set up this surgery for you? You think just anyone can get Chloe to fit them in?" he barked, shoving me back onto the bed.

Then, he turned to Chloe, his voice softening but still firm. "Chloe, I trust you. Just do the surgery."

Chloe gave him a soft smile, clearly reassured. "Don't worry, John. It's a routine procedure. Everything's gonna be fine," she stated, like she had it all under control.

The surgery was scheduled for 10 a.m. the next day, and since it was a weekday, John didn't even bother to come with me. Instead, he just messaged me:

[It's a simple procedure, and with Chloe there, I trust everything will be fine.]

At the time, I believed him. I reassured myself, thinking the surgery consent form clearly stated it was for uterine fibroid removal. After all, I had personally confirmed and signed it, and the entire surgery would be recorded. Even if Chloe wanted to harm me, I convinced myself she wouldn't dare.

As the anesthesia took effect, I drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Hours later, when I finally woke up, the first thing I did was check my abdomen. That's when I noticed the ugly, centipede-like scar. Just then, Chloe glanced over at me, seeing I was awake.

"The surgery was successful. You'll be discharged in a few days," Chloe said flatly. Without another word, she left the room. I let out a sigh of relief, thinking it was all over.

However, moments later, a nurse came in to transfer me from the operating room to the recovery ward. As she casually explained the post-op care, she let out a sigh that caught me off guard.

"It's a shame," the nurse muttered, "you're so young, and now your uterus is gone. And you haven't even had kids."

Her words hit me like a truck. Instinctively, I grabbed her arm, my voice shaking.

"What did you just say?! They took out my uterus?!"

The nurse froze, wide-eyed, clearly startled by my outburst, and quickly tried to calm me down.

"Mrs. Quinn, please don't get worked up. Losing your uterus means you can't have kids, but with proper recovery, it won't impact your overall health too much."

My whole body started shaking.

Before I even realized it, I was shouting. "They took out my uterus?! Are you freaking serious?!"

Panicked, the nurse called out, "Doctor! Dr. Williams, get in here! The patient is having a breakdown!"

Moments later, Chloe strolled in, her hands casually stuffed into her coat pockets, her face completely indifferent.

"What's the big deal, Ms. Morgan? Didn't you agree to the hysterectomy? Why the meltdown now?" she asked with a smug smirk.

And just like that, everything clicked. If I didn't know before, I knew now. Chloe had sabotaged me.

"Chloe, give me my medical records and the surgery form! I signed for fibroid removal, not this!" I snapped, my voice shaking with fury.

With a loud thud, she tossed the file onto my bed, her tone cold and sharp.

"Check for yourself," she said.

Hands trembling, I opened the file. To my horror, my original diagnosis of V-type uterine fibroids, which only required simple removal, had somehow changed to late-stage malignant tumors. The consent form had been altered from fibroid removal to full uterine removal.

I was devastated. I'd always dreamed of having children. Now, she'd stolen that from me.

"No! This isn't what I signed! You changed it, Chloe! You did this on purpose! I'm calling the cops!" I yelled, my heart pounding with rage.

Just then, John appeared in the doorway, looking shocked and confused. Wasting no time, Chloe rushed into his arms, acting like the victim.

"John, Leia's losing it! But she decided to have the surgery," she whined.

John just stood there, stunned. After a brief pause, he muttered, "Wait, what? Leia had her uterus removed? I thought it was just fibroids. Why the hell would they take out her whole uterus?"

Chloe jumped in, her voice calm and smooth, like she'd rehearsed it. "At first, yeah, it was fibroids, but they turned into a malignant tumor. If we hadn't removed it, she could've died."

John's face darkened as he grabbed the medical records and consent form off the bed. After a quick look, his expression twisted with anger.

"Even if it was a tumor, there are other treatments! You know how much I wanted kids! How could you just decide to get your uterus removed without even talking to me first?!"

"No! That's not what happened! The papers I signed didn't say anything about that! Chloe changed them after I signed! Please, call the police! She did this on purpose!" I pleaded, desperate for him to see the truth.

John stared at me for what felt like forever.

Then, with a cold snort, he tossed the file back onto the bed. "The documents are clear. Black and white. Chloe wouldn't risk her career over something like this. You've really let me down, Leia."

Feeling utterly heartbroken, I muttered, "So you don't believe me? You're gonna side with her?"

"Yes, Leia. You're selfish. There's no point in dragging this out. Let's get a divorce." I saw a flash of satisfaction in Chloe's eyes.

Then, I stared at John, completely reeling. "You really want to divorce me? After everything?"

"Yes, Leia. I'm done. From now on, we go our separate ways," he said, his voice cold and final.

At that moment, I saw a glimmer of victory flash in Chloe's eyes.

Before I could respond, John stormed out of the room. Without missing a beat, Chloe quickly followed, latching onto his arm as they walked away together. They didn't look back.

As soon as they disappeared from view, my long-restrained tears finally flowed.

Fine, then. They'd better be ready for my wrath if this is their chosen path.

Without hesitation, I grabbed my phone and dialed a number I hadn't called in a long time.

"Dad, I want to come home and take over the family business."

I will ruin John Quinn and make him crawl back to be the broke loser he used to be!