My husband was a leading expert in cardiology and surgery, having saved countless dying patients. But he failed during heart surgery on our twins.
I cried until I collapsed, clutching the children's ashes, while he rushed off with his luggage.
He said he had a surgical procedure waiting out of town.
"Milena, the child was born with a heart defect. Even a god couldn’t save him. Besides, I’m not a god. My deepest condolences. Take good care of yourself. We can have more children."
But that night, Kelly Johansson, his intern anesthesiologist, posted on Instagram.
A grid of photos—Disney fireworks and one of her holding hands with a man.
[The first surgery I supervised, a medical malfunction caused by a mistake in anesthesia dosage, nearly cost me my permanent position. It was so frustrating. Luckily, my sweetheart came on a rainbow cloud to save me.]
The next post was a photo of her standing on tiptoe to kiss a man’s jaw.
[I confessed my love to my sweetheart when it gets over ten likes. The scar on the man’s chin was identical to the one Steven had received when he took the knife for me.]
My already shattered heart finally turned cold. I moved my fingers and replied, [No need for ten. I, your beloved’s wife, agree that you two should be together.]
The next second, the phone rang. Steven’s usually cold voice now carried a sharp edge of anger.
"It’s just a little girl playing a dare and posting on her Instagram. Why would you leave such a shameful comment?"
"She just got admitted to the hospital. You’ll ruin her future. If you want to be mad, post it yourself. Don’t harm others. Ten seconds—delete it, or we’ll divorce."
I hung up and added his name and the intern’s to the list of people assigned to the African branch hospital that the hospital’s management had handed me. Then out on the reason for Major medical malpractice.
Since he wanted to protect her so badly, then let them suffer together. Why was the person who killed my child so happy?
——
Ten seconds later, Steven sent me a question mark. When I didn’t respond, he followed up with another message.
"I’ll have the divorce agreement delivered right now. If you insist on making a scene, then we’ll divorce."
I finally replied, "Okay."
The message "Inputting" kept appearing on the other end, but in the end, he didn’t send anything.
I sent Kelly’s Disneyland grid, along with a screenshot of the medical malpractice news.
"Steven, she killed our child, right?"
All I received was a red exclamation mark. He had blocked me.
I went back to my Instagram, but Kelly’s posts had all been deleted, leaving only a solitary apology.
[The patient treated us to dinner to express his gratitude for saving his child. We got drunk and played games and I lost the dare. The patient’s family asked me to choose a male present to post on Instagram. Doctor Steven was worried I’d feel wronged, so he went along with it. I apologize for causing a bad impression.]
The accompanying image was a crying, bowing kitten.
Steven commented, [Don’t be afraid, Kelly. I’ve got your back. Don’t let them bully you.]
The following comments were endless.
[We all know it. It must have been a joke. Just a disgusting joke from the family. There’s nothing we can do about it.]
[Someone? Could it be Doctor Steven’s? Doctor Steven is so pitiful. He has a crazy wife. It’s unfortunate that she lost her child. And yet, she’s been causing trouble at the hospital every day, insisting that Doctor Steven and Kelly were responsible for her child’s death.]
[Doctor Steven is so domineering and protective.]
I sneered, wrote down each of their names and added them to the list.
