My wife Abi is the world's top physician. She claimed love at first sight and chased me until I married her. Her rival Silas hated this. Years ago, they vowed never to marry, staying rivals till old age—breaking it meant a cursed end. Silas took his anger out on me. First, he stranded me in the wild for three days; I returned scarred. Abi healed me with top care. Second, he trapped me in a derelict building; I fell, breaking bones everywhere. Abi nursed me back. This cycle lasted five years: him hurting, her healing. Last time, Silas tricked me into eating a deadly allergen. I nearly died. Waking up in hospital, Abi sighed while writing my chart. "Don’t blame Silas," she said. "His dad was a war hero. Fighting me is his only comfort." "He knew you’d live. Just messing around." A call from Silas sent her rushing out—she missed writing the correct allergy drip prescription. The nurse had the wrong bag ready. Then the System appeared: "To return home, you must die by the heroine. This wrong infusion is fatal. Consent?" I smiled at the nurse. "Go ahead." … When Abi returned, the IV bag was already half empty. The warm, yellow light of the room softened the cool, sharp lines of her face. Dressed in her white coat, she walked to my bedside, a gentle smile playing on her lips. “I just finished up. Is that drip almost done already?” she murmured. “Let me see how my husband is doing.” She reached out to feel my forehead, then gently checked under my eyelids, her every movement precise and tender. I just stared at her, a storm of emotions swirling inside me. After all these years, I could finally go home. My gaze must have been too intense, because the corners of her eyes lifted in a slight smile, and her voice grew even softer. “What’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell? Did the IV hurt?” I shook my head. She smiled and ruffled my hair, pulling a pill organizer from her bag and placing it on the nightstand. “Flynn, this allergic reaction was severe. You’ll need to continue these nutrient drips for another seven days.” “I’ve also put your allergy medication in here. Make sure you take it after every meal.” I slowly pushed myself into a sitting position, my voice calm. “That won’t be necessary. I won't need them anymore.” She froze, her head tilting as she studied me. “Why so cold? Are you still angry with Silas?” She let out a soft sigh and reached for my hand. “Silas is just a bit extreme, that’s all. He didn’t really mean to hurt you. You’re fine now, so just let it go, okay?” I pulled my hand away. “What if I had actually died this time?” She blinked, then a helpless smile touched her lips. “With me here? How could I ever let that happen?” Right. My wife was the greatest doctor alive. There was no injury she couldn't heal. Lately, Silas’s attacks had become more frequent. Sometimes it was minor, something that would give me a rash or an upset stomach. Other times, it was far more serious, like tricking me into consuming poison. But every single time, Abi would fix me, effortlessly. So this time, she probably figured there wouldn’t be any surprises. She looked at me, her captivating eyes, usually so full of affection, now held that familiar, indulgent expression. It was as if my brush with death was nothing more than a trivial drama in her eyes. When did things get like this? In the beginning, she did care about me. I was sure of it. I remember our wedding day. Before the ceremony even started, Silas, who had just flown back into the country, maliciously ran my wedding car off the road. The car slammed into a guardrail. I broke my ribs and was bedridden for over two weeks. Abi was furious. She stayed by my side at the hospital the entire time. Later, she went to confront Silas, telling him she was cutting ties with him for good. But just three days later, she gave in. Silas had slit his wrists. He was lying in a bathtub, his skin ghostly pale against the blood. Abi rushed him to the hospital, her heart torn between pain and guilt. When she came back, she rubbed her temples, her voice weary. “Flynn, he’s the son of a war hero. He’s not a bad person at his core. He’s just hurting and needs an outlet. He wasn't targeting you on purpose.” “He has no family left. I’m all he has. For my sake, can you just let it go?” It was only then that I learned they weren't just rivals. They had grown up together. That vow to “never marry and fight until they were old” was a pact they made as kids. But then, while Silas was studying abroad, she met me. She fell hard and fast, insisting she would marry no one else. When Silas found out, he lost control, a storm of tears and accusations. Abi ignored him and married me anyway. “Flynn, I know this is my fault,” she’d said. “We’re husband and wife. We should be a team. Can you just be the bigger person for me? Please?” Because of those words, I spent five years backing down, giving in, over and over again. Until this time. Until he nearly killed me. The System’s voice broke through my thoughts. [Host, the heroine does have feelings for you. If you can’t bear to leave, you just need to let her discover the incorrect medication. The guilt will consume her, and she will spend the rest of her life trying to make it up to you, loving you desperately.] I shook my head softly. What good was her guilt? It wasn’t worth anything. [But Host, didn’t you give up on going home?] I sighed. It was true. When I first found myself transported into this world, into this story, I had seriously considered staying. Back then, Abi treated me so well, so well that the mission objective, to “die by her hand,” seemed impossible. Besides, I was an orphan in my own world. It seemed better to stay with someone who truly loved me. But I forgot one crucial thing. People change. “No,” I said to myself. “I’m going home.” Only seven days left. I could wait. After Abi left, I was alone in the room. Not for long. The door was thrown open with a bang. Silas strode in, dressed in a sharp, tailored suit. A sense of alarm shot through me. “What are you doing here?” A vicious smile twisted his lips. “Came to see you off. Since a severe allergic reaction couldn’t finish the job, I figured I’d have to do it myself.” I reached for the call button. But he was already at my bedside, his hands wrapping around my throat, squeezing tighter and tighter. I struggled, but my body, still weak from anaphylactic shock, was no match for him. Soon, black spots danced in my vision. Just as my consciousness began to fade, a nurse on her rounds burst in and screamed. “What are you doing? Somebody help! Security!” In the chaos, I used my last ounce of strength to grab her hand. “Call… the police…” When I woke up again, the first thing I saw was Abi’s icy expression. “Flynn, why did you call the police?” It took me a moment to find my voice, which came out as a dry rasp. “Silas broke in and tried to strangle me. I called them to press charges.” Abi’s brow furrowed. “Flynn, Silas told me he was coming here to apologize to you. Why would he try to hurt you?” I stared at her, my voice quiet but firm. “How many times has he hurt me, Abi? Don’t you know by now?” She faltered for a second. Of course, she knew. But even if she believed me, she would never let Silas get a criminal record. A moment later, Abi gestured to her assistant, who stepped forward with a legal document. “Flynn, Silas’s situation is special. If this gets out, it will be bad for him.” “I’ve already punished him. He’s on lockdown and knows he was wrong. Just sign this forgiveness waiver, and we can put this behind us, alright?” I turned my head away, ignoring her. “Flynn.” Her tone hardened, laced with a new edge of compulsion. “Sign it. I promise Silas will never come near you again. Just listen to me.” She tried to force the pen into my hand, to make me sign. But before she could touch me, I raised my hand and slapped her, hard, across the face. The crisp sound echoed in the silent room. The ward fell utterly silent. Abi cradled her cheek, her usually composed and elegant face a mask of shock. Maybe it was because I knew I was leaving. I was done swallowing the bitterness of the past. I looked her straight in the eye and said, each word deliberate, “Abi, believe what you want. I don’t care. But I am not signing that paper. It’s impossible.” Abi didn’t say another word. She snatched the document from her assistant, turned, and stormed out, slamming the door behind her. She was truly angry. For the next few days, she didn’t show her face. That evening, a nurse came to change my IV as usual, her expression hesitant. “Mr. Dawson,” she said, “Dr. Vance hasn’t been here in person, but she calls every day to check on you. She keeps telling me how severe your allergy was and that you can’t miss a single day of these nutrient drips. She wants me to make sure you finish every bag.” Seeing my silence, the nurse added, “She really does care about you, Mr. Dawson.” A bitter, ironic smile touched my lips. So, she was that afraid of me dying. I wondered what her face would look like when she finally discovered that the prescription she personally wrote was the very thing that was killing me. “Cough, cough!” A violent cough wracked my body. I spat blood onto the white sheets, a stark crimson stain. The combination of the incorrect drip and the damage from the allergic reaction was taking its toll. My body was deteriorating faster than I expected. I might not even make it the full seven days. When I woke up, it was already dark outside, the room filled with a warm glow. Abi was sitting by my bed, her face etched with worry. She looked like she’d rushed here, her white coat still smudged with dust. Her hand was just reaching for my IV line, likely to check its status, when her eyes met mine. She froze, instantly snatching her hand back. Her voice was sharp with annoyance. “Flynn, are you resorting to these kinds of tricks now?” “I knew my treatment plan couldn’t be failing.” “If you wanted me to come back, you could have just said so. Did you really need to fake being unconscious to get my sympathy?” I turned my back to her, my voice flat. “If you don’t want to be here, then don’t. No one’s begging you.” But inside, a wave of relief washed over me. That was close. A moment longer, and she might have noticed the problem with the IV. My retort left her speechless. After a few seconds of silence, her expression softened. A gentle hand rested on my shoulder, and her voice became gentle again. “Alright, are you still sulking? It’s not a big deal. I know you can’t stand Silas. I promise, I won’t let him near you again.” “You’ve been talking about visiting your friends, haven’t you? I’ll clear my schedule in a few days and take you, how does that sound?” Something stirred in me. I nodded. My closest friends lived in the next city over. Before I left this world for good, I had to see them one last time. Having her with me would make the trip easier. But in the end, she didn't come with me. The day we were supposed to leave, we had just reached the hospital entrance when her phone rang. She answered, and her expression changed instantly. After hanging up, she looked at me, her face full of guilt. “Flynn…” I managed a knowing smile. “It’s fine. Go do what you need to do.” The nurse traveling with me tried to explain. “Mr. Dawson, there’s an emergency in the ER. As a lead physician, Dr. Vance has to be there.” I didn't say anything, just turned and got into the car. A few passing doctors and nurses saw the exchange and gave me looks of approval. “Dr. Vance’s husband is so understanding.” Abi was a top-tier doctor. Being called away for emergencies like this was nothing new. It was a matter of life and death, and I had never held it against her. I always believed that saving lives should come before me. That was only right. What I never realized was that everything could come before me. And Silas… Silas came before everything else. I found her at the hospital’s affiliate branch in the next city. She was in a lab, frantically trying to formulate an antidote. Seeing me, she looked startled. “Flynn, what are you doing here?”
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