But now, whatever love I had for Ethan was completely gone.
That night, I held the divorce papers drafted by the company’s legal team, ready to send them to Ethan.
But then I saw a photo on Lily’s social media.
Candlelight, red wine—what a perfect scene for this cheating pair.
In the center of a table surrounded by 990 roses sat a small, elegant box.
Inside was the diamond ring I had once longed for.
I remembered how, when we got married, Ethan couldn’t afford a real ring.
He bought a fake one for ten dollars on Amazon and slid it onto my finger, looking deeply into my eyes.
“Sophia, this ring is fake, but my love for you is real.
Thank you for marrying a poor man like me. I promise I’ll buy you a real one just like it someday.”
I still have that fake ring.
I thought he had simply forgotten.
But now that real ring had shown up in another woman’s photo.
He hadn’t forgotten—he just never intended to give it to me.
The caption under the post read:
“I made a huge mistake giving the wrong medication today, but my dear Dr. Walker took all the blame for me.
If it weren’t for him, my career in medicine would have been over.
But misfortune turned into blessing—I got a love confession tonight!
I can never repay you, so I’ll just let you hold me whenever you want, for the rest of my life .”
I laughed coldly and gave it a “like.”
Screenshot. Saved.
Another piece of evidence secured.
Then I sent the divorce papers to Ethan.
“Look them over and sign them when you get home.”
Not even a minute later, my phone rang.
It was Ethan.
“Sophia Reed, what the hell is this supposed to mean?”
He barked angrily.
I was just about to say, “Since you’ve already confessed your love to her, I’ll step aside,” but he cut me off—
“I’m warning you, Lily’s post has nothing to do with your mother’s death!
If you dare to come to the hospital and ruin her future, I swear I’ll divorce you!”
Then he hung up.
I stood frozen, staring at the phone.
My heart, which was already numb, split open with pain.
I had thought he called because of the divorce papers.
But no—he just wanted to protect his mistress.
“Ethan, your mother’s body is still lying in the hospital morgue, and you have the nerve to go on a date? Aren’t you afraid of karma?”
I gritted my teeth and texted him.
But a red exclamation mark appeared next to the message.
He had blocked me.
I laughed bitterly.
Fine. If he didn’t care about his own mother, why should I care about anything anymore?
I had fallen for him because of his supposed filial piety, but even that had been a lie.
When Ethan was young, his father had racked up gambling debts, abandoned his wife and kids, and disappeared, leaving Mrs. Walker to raise Ethan and his baby sister alone, enduring endless hardships to make him who he was today.
Even yesterday, when Mrs. Walker felt unwell, she didn’t want to come to the hospital—she didn’t want to worry her son.
I had been the one who forced her to come to St. Mary’s Medical Center and called Ethan myself.
He had impatiently told me he was off duty and to find another doctor.
