My mom was seriously ill and needed money for surgery, but my wife blew it all on scalped tickets to a boy band concert. I frantically called her, but she just sounded annoyed. "You can always make more money! Mom's illness can wait, but this is their farewell tour! I can't miss it!" Hearing that, my heart sank. Luckily, I managed to scrape together the surgery money. She finally came home, but all that awaited her was a divorce agreement. ... Before I could even ask where the rest of the ticket money went, the line went dead. When I called again, her phone was off. The nurse started pressuring me, "Mr. Johnson, have you paid? Hospital policy requires payment before surgery can proceed." Mom's surgery had been delayed too long already. I'd finally scraped together the money, but now it was gone. I could get more money, but Mom couldn't wait. I pleaded, "Nurse, please, can't you make an exception? I'll get the money as soon as I can! Please, just do the surgery!" I was about to drop to my knees when a voice cut in, "Ethan?" The nurse immediately bowed her head, "Dr. Evans." I looked up. It was Sarah Evans, my high school lab partner. She'd always wanted to be a doctor. What a coincidence to run into her here. Sarah came over and said, "I saw your mom's name on the patient list. I was hoping it was you. What are the odds? " She saw how anxious I was and patted my shoulder. "I'll take care of it. Don't worry about your mom." She turned to the nurse and said, "Schedule the surgery right away." The nurse started to protest, but Sarah cut her off. "Deduct the cost from my personal account." It wasn't until Mom was wheeled into surgery that I realized what had happened. The nurse said the lead surgeon for this surgery was brought in from another hospital. Turns out, it was Sarah. Back in high school, I used to tease her that by the time I saw her again, she'd be balding. Turns out she was even more beautiful than she was in high school. I felt ashamed. I owed her big time. I waited anxiously outside the operating room. My phone pinged with a notification. Someone wearing a wedding dress at a concert had gone viral. I recognized her immediately: my wife, Ashley. The concert screens had captured her elaborate makeup and her slightly stiff, overly excited face. The singer asked her, "Are you single?" She nodded enthusiastically, grabbing the mic. "I wore this wedding dress here tonight because I wanted to feel like I married you, even if it's just for tonight!" The crowd went wild. I smirked and turned off my phone. How messed up was that? My mom was in surgery, and my wife was in a wedding dress at a concert, saying she wanted to marry some pop star. For five years, I'd been telling myself that even if she thought and dreamed about other men, I was her husband. She must love me, right? So, whenever she blew all our savings chasing her favorite band, I never said a word. But now, I couldn't lie to myself anymore. Three hours later, Sarah came out of surgery. Seeing the faint smile in her eyes, I felt the tension leave my body. We had that unspoken connection from being lab partners in high school. Sure enough, she pulled down her mask and said, "Surgery went great. She'll be ready for visitors in about an hour." I smiled genuinely. I was about to thank her when she raised her hand to stop me. "Save the thanks for when your mom's discharged. I'm starving." I laughed. "Got it. What do you want? My treat." "You know my appetite. Same as always." She shrugged and headed for her office. In high school, I was a day student and she lived on campus. She always made me bring her food. I knew what she liked. I bought the food and headed back, but the nurse stopped me as I was about to knock. "Don't disturb Dr. Evans. She had two surgeries yesterday. Then she drove out here to do this one. She's been awake for over 24 hours." I was surprised how hard she worked. More than that, I was grateful. The nurse said she could've refused the surgery or postponed it. Even the head of the hospital told her to rest. But she insisted on coming. She said her patient's health was more important than her rest. I quietly pushed open the door. She was fast asleep at her desk. Maybe it was because all three surgeries went well, but she had a little smile on her face. She looked innocent, but still with that stubborn streak. I didn't want to wake her. I put the food on the desk and left. Chapter 2 The day after the surgery, Ashley called. "Send me some money. I'm in L.A. and I'm broke." Unbelievable. Mom was barely out of danger, and she was calling for money, not to check in. "I don't have any money. Mom just had surgery." "What?" she said, shocked. "Didn't I say it could wait? What's the rush with that old bag? She can wait a bit, can't she?" I was getting furious. I rubbed my temples, trying to keep it together. "You took a fortune! And now you're asking for more?" "It's all gone! The dress alone cost me a fortune…" She seemed to realize she'd said too much, admitting about the dress, her voice trailing off. I said flatly, "I know everything." She didn't explain. "How am I supposed to get home if I don't have any money?" I scoffed. "Sounds like a personal problem. See you never!" Then I hung up. And blocked her number. Just like she'd done to me countless times before. Only this time, I was the one who'd decided I was done. I used to let everything slide, hoping she would be happy. Instead, she would berate me and hurt me. My mom once said something about Ashley blowing all the money on a cup that the boy band drank from, and she got three years of abuse for it. Even the doctor said her illness was stress-induced. She forgot her own mother begged my mom to agree to the marriage on her deathbed. If it weren't for their decades-long friendship, I never would have married her. One moment of weakness led to this disaster. I contacted a lawyer to draw up divorce papers. I just wanted it to be over. After my mom moved into a regular room, I hired a home health aide and started juggling work and hospital visits. I needed to pay back the hospital bills. My body couldn't keep up. I was exhausted. Sarah had gone back to her hospital after the surgery. Out of the blue, she came to see me. She brought a fruit basket and immediately saw how tired I was. "What's with the dark circles? Haven't you been sleeping?" I nodded grimly, taking off my glasses to rub my tired eyes. She guessed what was going on. "Don't worry about the money. The hospital isn't going anywhere. And, are you married?" "Talking to a lawyer, getting a divorce." I kept it brief. She looked surprised, but nodded. Then she said, "Have you eaten? I used to make you buy me lunch, so it's my turn. What do you want? I'll go get it." I was a little stunned by her smiling face. I'd never heard those words from Ashley. In five years of marriage, even when she wasn't working, she never cooked a meal. Either I cooked when I got home from work, or we ordered takeout. I did all the housework too. She took my kindness for granted. But she never thought about me. If I couldn't give her money for her bands, she would explode. Calling me useless, saying I was jealous, that I was cheap. She belittled me. So I also deserve some kindness. Chapter 3 Sarah came back with tons of food. Since she didn't know what I liked, she got a lot. I laughed. I wasn't picky. I just ate whatever Ashley wanted. I never really mattered. Sarah didn't like hearing that. "That's not true! Food is super important!" I chuckled. We ate and talked, just like back in high school. I used to laugh at her for never shutting up, even while eating. Then, after I got married, Ashley was always on her phone during meals. Never said a word to me. I tried talking to her. She'd either ignore me or give me some short answer. I realized it was nice to have someone who wanted to talk. At least it meant you had something in common. Before we finished eating, the door slammed open. Ashley's face was contorted in anger. When she saw us, she exploded. Her eyes bulged. She tried to hit Sarah. "So that's why you're not answering me! You're eating with some tramp!" I stood in front of Sarah. "What are you talking about? Sarah is Mom's surgeon!" Smack! She slapped me hard. She pointed at me, yelling, "Surgeon? You're calling her a surgeon? Do you really think I'm that stupid? Surgeons don't wear normal clothes!" I didn't want to argue. I just wanted to get Sarah out of there. She blocked my way, still trying to hit us. She was still wearing the wedding dress from the concert. Her makeup was smeared. She looked like a total psycho. She raised her hand. I braced myself, but the blow never came. Sarah had blocked her. She grabbed Ashley's arm. "I don't know what's going on, but I am his mom's surgeon. And you don't hit people, no matter what." When she couldn't argue her way out of it, she started crying. "Mom was having surgery. I didn't have money for a plane ticket. It took me hours on the bus to get back here and I came straight here." "And you're treating me like crap!" She was so good at twisting things. While she was sitting on the floor, crying, I got Sarah out of there. The nurses finally came and kicked her out. I walked Sarah out of the hospital, feeling embarrassed. "Sorry you had to see that." She shook her head. "I shouldn't have gotten involved, but... I couldn't stand her hitting you." Her words hit me hard. The worst thing isn't being treated badly, but receiving kindness out of nowhere. I looked away, waving goodbye. "Go back in. Thanks for coming." Back in the hospital room, the nurse got Ashley to calm down. When she saw me come back, she started faking concern. "Are you okay? I didn't mean to hit you, I just saw you with another woman and..." I ignored her and pulled out the divorce papers. "Sign them."
? Continue the story here ?? ? Download the "MotoNovel" app ? search for "392260", and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel