On his way out, he shot me one last look of pity.
Then it was just the three of us in the exam room.
The air pressed down until it was hard to breathe.
Jack watched me, something unreadable in his eyes.
“Viola, I know you're angry.”
“But have you ever stopped to think about why we ended up here?”
I froze.
I thought he would apologize. Feel some shred of guilt.
Instead, he turned it around on me.
“What's that supposed to mean?”
His face darkened, his voice cold：
“You really don't get it?”
“These nine years, every single day, you were either at work or pulling overtime. How much of this family did you ever take care of?”
“My birthday—you were in surgery. Our anniversary—you were on night shift. My mother was sick in the hospital and you couldn't even show your face!”
“All you ever think about is your patients, your surgeries. When have you ever cared about me? When have you ever cared about this family?”
“Look at yourself. You live in that white coat, bare face, not even a decent dress to your name—where do you even look like a woman?”
He was getting more worked up with every word, spit nearly hitting my face.
“I'm a normal man too. I need someone to be with me, someone to care about me!”
“Lavinia's different. She's gentle, she's considerate, she understands people. She remembers my birthday. She plans surprises. When I'm tired, she rubs my shoulders.”
“With her, I actually feel like I'm alive!”
My heart—like a dull knife was dragging across it, cut after cut after cut.
Pain that bored straight through my chest.
Nine years of marriage.
I'd gone from a newly graduated young doctor to an associate chief physician.
And yes, in those nine years, I'd shortchanged this family. I knew that.
But none of it was for myself.
When his startup was bleeding cash, when the whole thing nearly collapsed—
I emptied my savings. I borrowed money from my parents. I got him through it.
He worked until midnight every night.
No matter how late my own shift ran, I left a light on for him. I kept a bowl of soup warm.
When his mother got sick, I pulled every connection I had to get her the best doctor, the best room.
Every day after work, straight to the hospital.
Bedpans and sponge baths, a full month of it.
All he saw was the birthday I missed. The anniversary I wasn't there for.
He couldn't see everything I'd given.
He couldn't see how many lives and deaths I faced every day in that hospital, or how much weight I carried.
I stood there, cold all the way through.
My silence must have looked like surrender to him, because he only got bolder.
“What? Nothing to say?”
“Let me make this clear. This is on you too. If you weren't cold as a board every single day, I never would have cheated.”
“Lavinia is carrying my child, and now something this serious has happened. You're a doctor—saving her is your duty!”
“If you don't save her today, that's settling a personal score! That's having no medical ethics! I'll go straight to the president's office and report you, and then I'll put the whole story online!”
“Forget your specialist clinic—you won't practice medicine again.”
His words drove into me like a blade to the chest.
I looked at the man I had loved for nine years and did not recognize him.
My eyes burned, and I held everything back, refusing to let a single tear fall.
A slow breath. My voice came out raw：
“Fine. I'll save her.”
“But not because you threatened me, and not because I think any of this is my fault.”
“Because I'm a doctor.”
“When I put on this white coat, I don't get to let someone die.”
