To save my wife, my lungs were pierced by a knife, leaving lasting consequences.

When I fell ill and struggled to breathe, she said I was dramatic and went on a business trip with her childhood friend.

When she returned, I found a man's underwear in her suitcase that did not belong to me.

I calmly made the call: "Director, I've made up my mind. I'm going to assist in Avrika."

Later, at the airport, she bent down, publicly lowering her head and begging for my forgiveness.

"Are you positive about this? It's going to be rough out there. What about your old injury? How are you going to break it to your wife?"

I glanced at Yvonne Scott, my wife, and the suitcase spilled open on the floor, a pair of men's briefs lying on top.

I inhaled deeply and let out a wry laugh. "She's cool with it."

"Okay, then. Start packing. We're heading out in two weeks."

The director ended the call, and that was that.

Yvonne stepped out of the bathroom, her hair still dripping, and draped herself over my shoulder.

"Miss me, babe?"

She puckered up for a kiss.

I stepped aside and pointed at the briefs in the suitcase. "That's not mine."

She barely batted an eye. "Oops, those are Wade's. Got mixed up when I packed after our work trip. He's a client."

She tossed the briefs in the trash and reached for my face, her touch gentle.

"Don't sweat it. Wade and I are like family. If anything was going to happen, it would've happened. Plus, he's married. You've got nothing to worry about."

Her smile was too perfect, not a flicker of doubt in sight.

Her lips were inches from mine when the phone buzzed.

She glanced at it and spun around. "I'll be there in a minute!"

With her coat on, she was out the door in a flash.

I caught a glimpse of her phone screen, a name that read 'Wade Lawson'.

I forced myself to focus, pulling up a list of what to pack for a humanitarian mission to Avrika, jotting down each item.

Then came Wade's latest social media update.

[Nothing like a hot bowl of noodles to warm the soul. Thank you for your support in tough times.]

The photo showed a bowl with two fried eggs piled up on the noodles. Off to the side was Yvonne's hand, with the ring I had splurged on catching the light.

It was not our wedding band. That had been lost to time, just like the warmth she had never really shared with me.

For three long years in college, I chased after her, but she never gave me the time of day. It was not until our senior year, in the thick of our internships, that she got swamped with a tough case.

I showed up with a homemade meal to cheer her up, only to run into a troublemaker defendant with a knife in hand.

When I saw the knife heading straight for Yvonne, I did not think twice—I lunged in front of her.

The knife went right through my lung, but in a weird way, I was lucky. That was when Yvonne started to see me differently.

The stab wound left me with lasting issues. My health declined, and I would often find myself gasping for air, especially when my emotions spiked.

She had burned the midnight oil at the office before her trips, and I would drop by with dinner, keeping her company into the wee hours.

One stormy evening, she took my car for an urgent errand and told me to hang tight. I waited in the freezing chill for three hours, she never came back, and I ended up getting sick.

For three days, I was burning up with a fever, barely able to ask for water. Yvonne, busy packing, called me out for being over the top.

"Seriously? A little rain and you're at death's door? Get your own water. And hey, I'll be out of town for a few days."

With that, she was gone, luggage in tow.

I tried to get up, but I only made it a couple of shaky steps before collapsing by the bed.

Despair hit me like a truck, and I could not catch my breath under the weight of it all.

Seeing how differently Yvonne treated Wade on social media, I knew it was time for a change.

I quietly 'unfriended' Wade and, with a sense of finality, circled my departure to Avrika in bright red on the calendar.

Yvonne did not come home that night.

The next day, she rang up.

"Got held up last night and didn't make it back. You see the papers on my coffee table? Drop them off at the law firm for me, and hand them to Jamie. I'm not around."

I barely glanced at the coffee table and muttered, "Yeah."

I had just given Jamie the files and was ready to head out when he asked if I wanted to hang around for Yvonne, who was supposedly tied up in a meeting.

It turned out Yvonne was full of it.

As I swung the meeting room door open, there was Yvonne, practically draped over Wade.

She did not spot me—it was Wade who piped up first.

"Dr. Green, what's up? Didn't expect to see you here."

Yvonne, hearing that, scrambled to her feet. Wade, looking a bit caught off guard, shot his arms up.

That was when I noticed her hair tangled up in Wade's wristwatch.

The very watch I had bought for Yvonne.

She had raved about how it was perfect for both guys and girls, but it was sold out everywhere back home.

I went through hoops to get it for her birthday, hoping to win her over. However, she hardly wore it after that. When I asked, she brushed it off, saying she lost it.

Well, it was pretty clear where it ended up.

Yvonne's eyes darted with panic when she saw me, fumbling to free her hair.

"Thomas, it's not what you think. Wade and I were just hashing out a case."

Wade chimed in with a grin, "Exactly. Just a little hiccup I needed Yvonne's help with. Dr. Green, you're not going to sweat the small stuff, right?"

Yvonne sidled up to me, pulling out all her flirty stops.

I was sick to my stomach with her act and called her out on the watch.

She flipped, lashing out at me, "Can't you take a hint when someone's being nice? It's just some lousy watch. I can give it to whoever I please. Why the third degree? You sound like a broken record, whining like that."

Her voice was so loud that the whole office must have heard.

I caught the smirk on Wade's face, but I just gave a composed smile. "No biggie. You said the watch was lost, and here I was thinking some lowlife had swiped it."

The room buzzed with whispers and side-eyes, but I just shrugged it off with a half-smile.

"Keep it up, folks. I'm heading out."

Yvonne was not far behind. She stormed in and chucked a gift box at me like it was a grenade.

Inside? A leather belt, the same brand as the watch, but this one looked extravagant.

"Enough already. It's just a dumb watch. Here's something pricier. Happy now?" she huffed.

I dumped the box on the coffee table, my voice ice, "I don't need your charity."

She mistook my chill for a sulk and softened, a rare sight, plopping down beside me.

"Wade's company mess is done. Now I'm at his divorce gig."

"Divorce?" That caught me off-guard. Wade, of all people, splitting from his loaded wife?

"Yep. His wife cheated, and her boy toy roughed him up. Wade called me to bail him out. She's way out of line. I have to snag him a bigger slice of the pie. It's strictly business between us."

'Sure, they're close like that, so of course helping out makes sense,' I figured.

I stood. "Whatever it is, it's none of my business."

She clutched at me, "Cut the act. I'm being nice here. No more games."

I glared at her. "Got too much time on your hands, Yvonne?"

With that, I headed for my room.

She did not see that coming. Fury lit her up like a firecracker.

She grabbed the gift box and hurled it at my back, a perfect hit. "Playing hard to get? You're pathetic. If you're so tough, let's get a divorce!"

I froze, then spun around. "You want a divorce? You got it."

Yvonne was right behind me as she roared, "Then pack your bags and go!"

I was just giving Yvonne a taste of her own medicine. She was so used to my constant doting; there was no way she could handle the frosty shoulder I gave her.

I made a beeline for the exit, but she was hot on my heels furiously. "Just leave, and don't you dare come back!"

I got myself a hotel room, freshened up, and got ready to sleep. Yvonne blew up my phone with call after call, but I ignored them all.

Then, 30 minutes later, a stranger rang.

"Hey, is this Yvonne's husband? She's plastered over here at our bar. Could you come get her?"

"You've got the wrong guy."

However, I thought better of it and added, "Check her contacts for a dude named Wade. He can deal with it."

I hung up, got online, and started the paperwork for a visa to Avrika.

Yvonne tried reaching out a few more times, but eventually, she gave up and went silent.

The hospital had been a madhouse lately, what with us gearing up for the Avrika medical mission.

However, the chaos had been a welcome distraction.

No more sucking up, no more feeling empty.

One of the obstetrician gynecologists, swamped with preparation for Avrika, had not even had a second to grab a bite.

Post-meeting, I got an extra meal for him.

However, as I dropped it off at the obstetrics-gynecology department, I spotted Yvonne, propped up by Wade, looking like she was on her last leg.

I flagged down a nurse. "Hey, what's going on with her?"

The nurse, spotting my white coat, took a quick look at Yvonne and let out a heavy sigh. "She found out she was two months pregnant after a night of drinking and came in for an abortion."

Pregnant?

The timeline matched up with the last time Yvonne and I were together.

A blaze of anger shot through me, and I beelined for Yvonne.

"You were pregnant? Why the heck didn't you tell me?"

She glanced up before swinging, slapping my face.

"Like it's my fault? Your swimmers are to blame for my miscarriage, and you have the gall to ask?"

I locked eyes with her. "Was it an accident, or did you get rid of our baby on purpose?"

"It was no accident. I meant to do it. What's it to you? I'm about to make a partner at the firm, and I won't let a baby mess that up."

Her eyes were like daggers, blaming our own child.

My heart squeezed tight, and I clenched my fist, trying to hold back the storm inside.

I never wanted to trap her with a kid. For eight years, I had gone along with whatever she wanted.

However, this? This made me boil over. I had a right to know.

I jabbed a finger at Yvonne, my voice rising. "I'm that kid's dad! How could you just decide without me? And to bring him along?"

Yvonne just smirked. "What's wrong with Wade being here? Be glad the kid wasn't his. Now get out of my face. You're bugging me."

She shoved me, and that was the last straw.

I tried to step up, to say something, but Wade shoved me back.

Yvonne threw me a look, frosty as ice. "Stand outside our house for a full day and night, then maybe we'll talk."

With that, she walked away with Wade's help.

I hit the wall hard, my breath catching in my chest.

I slid down, crumpled on the floor, gasping. I watched them walk away without a backward glance.

It felt like a giant fist was squeezing my heart, stealing my breath.

When a coworker found me 10 minutes later, I was out cold.

It turned out my old lung injury had flared up something fierce. I needed surgery quickly.

They needed a family member to sign off on it, and Yvonne's phone only picked up after five tries.

However, it was Wade who answered, "Sorry, she can't come to the phone."