The weight of their accusations pushed me over the edge. My emotions spiraled, uncontrollable and raw.
With a snap, the eyebrow pencil in my hand broke. My chest heaved as fury consumed me.
"You fucking bastards! You all want to die, don’t you?" I shouted, my voice trembling with rage.
"It’s your fault—your fault my eyebrows are crooked! I’ll stab you to death!"
I shot up from the chair, my eyes wild, the broken eyebrow pencil clenched in my fist like a weapon. My gaze burned into the crowd that had so brazenly judged me moments before. Without hesitation, I lunged at them.
Chaos erupted. My parents-in-law and Evangeline sprang into action, rushing to restrain me. Evangeline’s voice cut through the panic.
"Stop talking! She has severe depression—she can become irritable and lash out!"
The crowd recoiled in fear, their earlier boldness extinguished. Silence fell as my parents-in-law gently guided me back to my seat, their hands trembling as they held me.
My mother-in-law knelt before me again, her voice cracking with desperation.
"Vivienne, please! Leander’s life is in your hands. I’m begging you—control yourself and save him!"
Her tears fell freely. "Whatever you want, we’ll give it to you. Even our lives, if that’s what it takes!"
I stared blankly at the wall opposite me, her words fading into the background. My body felt numb, my mind an empty void.
Suddenly, the operating room doors flew open again. An assistant ran out, his face pale with urgency.
"Dr. Drake! Come quickly—the patient has no heartbeat!"
Evangeline turned to me, gripping my arm tightly.
"Vivienne! Do you really want to watch your husband die?"
I didn’t move. My gaze remained fixed on the wall, my face devoid of emotion.
Evangeline shook me, her voice climbing in pitch.
"Vivienne! Wake up! Leander is dying!"
A shiver ran through me. Slowly, I turned to her, my expression blank and detached.
"What?"
"Your husband is dying! You’re the only one who can save him!" she repeated, desperation thick in her voice.
I raised my trembling hands, staring at them as though they belonged to someone else. My voice, hollow and distant, answered.
"I can’t save him..."
My mother-in-law’s patience snapped when she realized I was resolute in my decision not to save Leander. Her voice, filled with fury, echoed in the corridor as she stormed toward me.
"Vivienne! You are heartless! Even if your hands are trembling, you must save Leander!"
Her voice cracked with emotion. "Leander loves you more than anything. He’s treated you like a princess, kept you in the palm of his hand. And this is how you repay him?"
Her words came faster now, each one sharper than the last.
"Since the day you married, he’s been working tirelessly to give you the best life. Do you know how he got that heart attack? It was from overwork—for you! You ungrateful woman!"
Her accusations cut deep, not because they weren’t true but because they grazed the surface of a reality she didn’t understand.
She wasn’t wrong. Leander was remarkable, even by any standard. Despite coming from the countryside, he had ambition and drive that set him apart. We had met in college, and our relationship blossomed into marriage. Over the past five years, he built a life for us—a villa, a luxury car, financial security—all through his relentless hard work.
But what they didn’t see, what no one saw, was the emotional toll of living behind the facade of Leander's "perfect" life. They didn’t know what I endured, what lay hidden behind the glittering image of happiness and success.
If they knew, would they still call me ungrateful? Would they still demand I save the man who had, intentionally or not, been the source of my suffering?
But I wasn’t about to explain all this to my in-laws, who had no grasp of what depression really was. They wouldn’t understand, nor could they solve my problems.
Seeing my indifference, my father-in-law stepped forward, his jaw tight with anger and desperation.
"Vivienne! Just go in and save Leander. We’ll sign a waiver—right here, right now. No matter what happens, we’ll never hold you responsible, whether the operation succeeds or fails!"
His voice softened slightly, though his resolve didn’t waver.
"We’ll even compensate you for the risks and consequences of breaking hospital regulations."
I froze for a moment, his words catching me off guard.
"Compensate? How?"
He hesitated, then swallowed hard. "All the shares, the villa, the car, the company—everything Leander has worked for over the years. We’ll transfer it all to your name!"
For the first time, their desperation made me waver. My mind spun, caught between hesitation and disbelief.
Before I could respond, the assistant burst out of the operating room again, his face pale and panicked. He turned to my in-laws, his voice trembling with urgency.
