I didn’t want to ruin them. I just wanted to take back what I deserved.
When the list was finally released and he saw that he and Kelly were still on it, Steven completely lost his patience.
When the call went through, his tone was already full of anger.
"How long are you going to keep making this a fuss? You're not going to stop until everyone's complaining and the hospital is shut down. Do you know how many surgeries are scheduled today? How can you expect these doctors on the list to work peacefully?"
"This is a hospital, a place to save lives, not a place for you to vent your anger and make trouble. Take down the notice immediately and come to the hospital to apologize to everyone! Each person will receive a year's worth of performance compensation as compensation!"
I replied calmly, "They signed the funding agreement and agreed to comply with any transfer orders from the hospital. If they receive a transfer order and can’t function normally, they’re unworthy of being doctors."
On the other end of the line, he began panting and swearing, "You're crazy! Fine, since you won't be persuaded, don't blame me for being rude. Milena, remember, you were the one who started the falling out."
After the call ended, I felt no relief. Only bitterness and sorrow.
I had tried to convince myself that it wasn’t that he didn’t love me or the children, but that he just had a cold temper. But it turned out he could also lose control of his anger. It turned out he really had never loved us. I had wasted ten years of my life with someone who didn’t love me.
I watched helplessly as he destroyed my two children.
I didn’t respond to any of the insults.
As if to provoke me further, Steven began to retaliate publicly. He openly brought Kelly to various academic conferences and dinners. They wore matching outfits and held hands during interviews.
Even at the press conference for a project I had successfully funded, he exclaimed, "Kelly has made a significant contribution to this project. Without her, this project wouldn't have been possible."
They exchanged a smile and the media captured their moment. The photo was published with the headline:
"Cardiologist Steven and his wife appear at a research conference."
"Loving couple. Extraordinary. Let’s create a wonderful story together."
He forwarded the news, saying only, "I'm very happy about the new drug release."
He didn’t mention the reporter’s misunderstanding that Kelly was his wife.
The comments were filled with praise for their perfect match and messages of congratulations.
Someone questioned. [Doctor Steven, this isn't appropriate.]
But the next second, the comment was deleted.
I calmly watched it, took a screenshot and sent it to my lawyer.
Perhaps my lack of reaction bored them.
Someone sent me a secretly filmed video. In the dressing room, Kelly’s burns were exposed and Steven was applying medication with a cotton swab.
Kelly groaned, "Doctor Steven, it hurts. Why don’t you just use your finger?"
Steven’s Adam’s apple bobbed and he threw the cotton swab away.
The video ended there.
The person who posted the video sent a laughing emoji with a hand covering his mouth.
[Mrs. Parker, don’t misunderstand. It’s just a change of medication.]
I replied calmly, [No. They’re going to Africa together anyway, so I don’t care what they do.]
On the seventh day after my children’s death, I decorated the house in an Ultraman theme. Their biggest wish had been to have an Ultraman-themed birthday party.
They had waited for a long time, but every year Steven vetoed it, "Why decoration is that important? It’ll mess up the house. Just have cake."
But he rarely even ate birthday cake with them. He always said he was busy and didn’t have time for the children.
But he was free to spend an entire day with Kelly at Disneyland.
