During a critical surgery, my husband’s girlfriend suddenly called. He abandoned the anesthetized patient and left the operating room for a full 40 minutes. I tried to stop him: "The surgery isn't finished. If you leave now, what if something happens?" My husband, the lead surgeon, sneered coldly: "If something happens, it's your problem as the anesthesiologist. I'm the lead surgeon, but I haven't cut yet. If the family wants to sue or attack anyone, it'll be you and the attending physician. What does it have to do with me?" Afterward, Chloe Sterling, his wealthy mistress, arrogantly told me: "See? All it takes is one word from me, and your husband will drop everything to come to me." It turned out Chloe called him away just to spite me? I didn't say a word. I silently contacted others and began compiling a dossier of evidence... 1 I am an anesthesiologist, and today was my shift. The moment I saw the schedule, I frowned and asked the Chief of Anesthesiology, "Why am I paired with Dr. Pierce?" The Chief smiled, avoiding my gaze. "There were some last-minute changes. Dr. Pierce needed to move his surgery up, and you were available." I pressed him. "Does the hospital not have a policy against spouses operating together?" Although there’s no explicit law forbidding immediate family members from being in the same OR, it’s an unwritten rule in the industry to avoid it. The risk of personal conflict affecting professional judgment is too high. Our hospital had specifically listed this rule in the employee handbook. "Heh, special circumstances require flexibility..." The Chief chuckled, trying to smooth things over. I despised Ethan Pierce. I pretended not to understand the Chief's hints and kept citing the rules, insisting I wouldn't work with him. Annoyed by my persistence, the Chief dropped his smile. "Dr. Lin, rules are dead, people are alive. That rule is meaningless." My brow furrowed. "Spouses have conflicts, sure, but don't colleagues? Don't dating couples?" he argued. "If a doctor and a nurse fight, do we ban them from surgery? Think about it. How many doctors and nurses are secretly dating? If we had to police that, the whole hospital would shut down." "Besides," he added with a meaningful smirk, "before you and Dr. Pierce got married, didn't you partner up all the time?" "Not only did you two work well together, but when Dr. Pierce was dating Nurse Sarah Jones, he brought her into every surgery. The work got done, didn't it? No accidents." I clenched my fists, a bitter taste in my mouth. Ethan Pierce was my husband, but I wasn't his only woman. Sarah Jones was a nurse, one of his many conquests. When they were "in love," Ethan took her everywhere, flaunting their relationship to the entire hospital. The Chief was using Sarah to needle me, likely annoyed by my lack of cooperation. Knowing there was no room for negotiation, I took a deep breath and looked down. "Understood." Leaving the Chief's office, I returned to my desk, trying to convince myself: It’s just one surgery. It’ll be fine. Before we were married, Ethan and I were a seamless team. As long as we stuck to our roles, nothing would go wrong. But my eyelid kept twitching. I had a bad feeling. My phone buzzed. A text from Chloe Sterling. [When are you divorcing him?] Short, rude, no greeting. My temples throbbed. Ethan had many women, but Miss Sterling was the most arrogant. Chloe Sterling was Ethan’s new "student." She had returned from studying abroad with a degree in Landscape Architecture—completely unrelated to medicine. Yet, through some "special program," she was slotted into a residency under Ethan. In three years, she’d be a doctor. Ordinary people lose their hair studying for a decade just to get a foot in the door. To get a residency under a top surgeon like Ethan, you usually need to be a top-tier med student from an Ivy League school. But Miss Sterling, a graduate of a third-rate foreign college with a non-medical degree, was stepping over everyone. Not only that, she somehow had several SCI papers to her name. A glittering resume built on money and connections. When I learned about her family background, her "excellence" made sense. That’s why I never thought she’d sleep with Ethan. When rumors first swirled, I laughed. "No way. Someone like Miss Sterling would choose a husband who matches her status. Dating Ethan would be a stain on her family name." Ethan was successful, sure. But he was over 40, married, with a 7-year-old child, and a reputation for sleeping around. Chloe was young, beautiful, and filthy rich. Why lower herself? Did she like that he didn't shower often? If she wanted his influence to gild her resume, money and power were enough. She didn't need to sleep with him. Ethan wasn't exactly a man of high moral standing; pay him enough, and he’d do anything. But the jaw-dropper was that this heiress actually fell for him—and got pregnant! It was absurd. For her, Ethan quickly cut ties with other women, playing the role of the doting partner, and started pressuring me for a divorce. 2 Thinking back on Ethan and Chloe, I suppressed my anger and typed back: [Miss Sterling, I will not divorce Ethan.] When I first discovered Ethan’s infidelity, my instinct was to leave. But the bastard wanted me to leave with nothing—no assets, and he wanted full custody of our daughter. So, I refused. I was going to drag this out until it destroyed him. As soon as I hit send, Chloe called. "Lacey, don't be ungrateful." I replied coldly, "You're the one who needs a reality check, Miss Sterling." Chloe laughed. "Me? You’ve already been demoted from Team Lead to a regular anesthesiologist. Still don't get it?" My heart sank. She hit a sore spot. I used to be the lead anesthesiologist for the ICU team. After my conflict with Ethan over Chloe began, I was demoted. I gritted my teeth. "Since you guys stripped my title, I have even less reason to divorce. Let's see who breaks first." "Lacey, I think you're mentally ill," Chloe sneered. "You're fighting a losing battle. Your marriage is dead. Why not divorce and live freely instead of watching us be happy? You're asking for pain." "Who said our marriage is dead?" I scoffed. "We're great. Don't try to drive a wedge between us. During the last board inspection, we were even praised as a 'model couple.'" The term "model couple" made me want to laugh. Because we actually were praised. Since we weren't divorced, Ethan had to bring me to high-profile events. Chloe finally got angry. "'Model couple'? Stop lying to yourself. Ethan loves me. You can't control him, but I can. One phone call, and he'll be by my side. I'll prove it to you..." She was so childish. At her social level, arguing with me over who a middle-aged philanderer truly loves was pathetic. It was about money and power, yet she insisted on packaging it as romance. "Oh, really? Amazing," I deadpanned. "You don't believe me?" "No, I don't." I hung up. I had a surgery to prep for. I entered Operating Room 6. The nursing team was already prepping. The room was sterile, instruments laid out perfectly. The nurse nodded at me. I went to my station. The patient was already on the table—an 8-year-old girl, just a year older than my own daughter. She had a congenital heart defect. Two previous surgeries had failed. Her parents had sold their house and traveled across the country to our hospital, specifically for Ethan. They believed a famous doctor guaranteed safety. Ethan did have skills; you don't become Chief of Cardiothoracic Surgery without them. I spoke softly to the girl. "Don't be scared. You'll fall asleep quickly, and when you wake up, it'll be all done." She nodded obediently. "I want to get better soon so Mommy and Daddy stop worrying." An angel. "You will," I smiled. I injected the anesthetic. Soon, she was unconscious. "Anesthesia complete." "Let's begin." Ethan walked in, scrubbed and gowned. He picked up the scalpel without looking at me. I focused on the monitors. We were strangers now. Suddenly, a phone on the side table rang. A specific ringtone. I recognized it immediately. It was Chloe’s ringtone, customized by Ethan. It rang twice. Ethan barked at the nurse, "My phone. Bring it here." The nurse held it to his ear. I don't know what was said, but Ethan’s face changed dramatically. He put down the scalpel and marched toward the door. "You too, come with me!" he ordered his assistant surgeon. 3 The nurses and I were stunned. The patient was under, the incision site prepped. Why was the surgeon leaving? And he took his assistant. With both doctors gone, no one could operate. We were left waiting. The nurses looked at each other in panic. Remembering Chloe’s threat, a chill ran down my spine. I bit my lip and chased after him. The automatic doors closed behind me. The hallway was empty except for Ethan and his assistant. "Wait!" I called out. Ethan turned, frowning. "What do you want?" "The patient is on the table," I said. "Why are you leaving?" "Something came up," he said curtly. "What sort of thing?" Ethan sneered. "Who are you to demand a report from the Chief of Surgery?" I choked back my anger. "When will you be back? You have to give us a time." He laughed, a dismissive sound. "How should I know?" How should I know? My eyes widened. "If you don't know when you're coming back, what about the patient?" Ethan smiled again, a cruel, mocking smile. "That's your responsibility as the anesthesiologist. Until I return, you keep the patient stable. Understood?" Cold sweat broke out on my back. If a surgeon delays, the anesthesiologist has to keep the patient under. But prolonged anesthesia carries huge risks. If something went wrong, I would be the primary person responsible, not the surgeon who hadn't cut yet. Was he doing this just to punish me? "Ethan, be clear. Are you doing this to get back at me?" He raised an eyebrow, didn't answer, and kept walking. I ran in front of him, blocking his path. "Ethan! You cannot play with a patient's life for personal reasons. Go back!" "I have an urgent matter. Stop acting crazy," he spat. "If something happens to the patient, you can't escape responsibility!" Ethan smiled slightly, spreading his hands. "I haven't even made the incision. If something happens, what does it have to do with me? You're the anesthesiologist. You're liable." I was shaking. In big hospitals, if there's an anesthesia accident, the family sues the anesthesiologist and the attending physician. Even if the delay caused the complication, the blame shifts. "Do you have no conscience?" I trembled with rage. Ethan’s face darkened. "I said I have business. Get out of my way!" He shoved past me, taking his assistant. Defeated, I walked back to the OR. I tried to rationalize it. Ethan was a scumbag, but he cherished his reputation as a top surgeon. He wouldn't joke with his career. Maybe it really was an emergency. 4 Looking at the little girl on the table, my heart was heavy. "Dr. Lin, when is the Chief coming back?" a nurse asked. I shook my head. "He didn't say." The nurses exchanged worried glances. I kept my eyes glued to the monitors. Everyone was anxious. Minutes ticked by. My phone vibrated. It was Chloe. I declined the call. I wouldn't take personal calls during a crisis. A moment later, a WeChat message popped up on my screen: [See? All it takes is one word from me, and your husband will drop everything to come to me.] I stared at the message in disbelief. He really left because Chloe called him? He abandoned a surgery just to help her bully me? I took a deep breath and typed: [Is there an emergency?] My phone rang again. Chloe. I answered. "Lacey," her voice dripped with arrogance. "Do you see the difference between us now?" "What is wrong with you?" I hissed. "He was in surgery! The patient is anesthetized on the table! Why call him away? What if something happens?" "I didn't know he was in surgery," she sniffed. "Besides, what do I care if a patient lives or dies?" Liar. When Ethan answered the phone, everyone in the OR heard him say, "I'm in surgery." I didn't have time for this. "Send him back. Now." "He's the Chief," she giggled. "I'm just a student. I can't order him around." She hung up. My chest tightened. She wouldn't let him return. A patient was waiting, life hanging in the balance, and they were playing games to hurt me? I looked at the girl. It was my fault. If I had refused to work with him more firmly... No. Stop blaming yourself. Solve the problem. I called the Chief of Anesthesiology and reported it as an incident. "It's only been 10 minutes," the old man said. "Wait a bit longer. Dr. Pierce has urgent business." "Chief," I snapped, "Chloe Sterling called him away. They are doing this to spite me. They are gambling with a patient's life!" "Dr. Lin," he chided. "Don't spread rumors. Don't let your emotions dictate your professionalism. Who will want to work with you if you act like this?" I choked. The schedule change. The pairing. It was all a setup. "It's been 10 minutes," the Chief repeated. "It's normal for a surgeon to step out." "He took his assistant!" I yelled. That was the smoking gun. If a surgeon steps out, the assistant takes over or preps. Ethan took everyone who could cut. "Maybe they'll be back soon," the Chief said, dismissive. I hung up, helpless. Ten more minutes passed. The nurses knew what was happening. Some were silent, others furious. But no one dared to speak up against Ethan Pierce.
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