"Fooling around in the office wasn't enough for you. You had to bring her home too. Now you're so inseparable that you can't wait to finalize the divorce."

As her voice started to rise, I frowned. "Keep it down. Don't wake her."

Given how easily the younger Selena lost her temper, I couldn't imagine what kind of scene she'd cause if she woke up and found her 30-year-old self standing right there. I was just trying to avoid more trouble, but my words clearly meant something entirely different to Selena.

She let out a hollow laugh, tears glistening in her eyes. "Zack, do I need to remind you that this is our home? You're actually asking me to keep quiet in my own house for some shameless homewrecker? What am I to you?"

The younger Selena was starting to stir on the couch. Without thinking, I rushed forward and grabbed the older Selena's hand.

"Not here. Come on, I'll take you to the coffee shop downstairs."

Worried she'd pull away, I deliberately held her hand tightly. But to my surprise, she didn't resist. Instead, her fingers curled around mine instinctively.

Even after we got out of the elevator, Selena still hadn't let go. I felt awkward and tried tentatively to pull my hand back, but she only gripped tighter.

"What? You'll let some tramp touch you, but not me? Zack, you can cheat on me without a second thought, but suddenly you're staying faithful for her?"

I couldn't stand the mockery in her voice. I yanked my hand free with force. "Don't project your filth onto me, especially when you're the one who isn't clean!"

The force of it made Selena stumble back a step. She stared at me with wounded eyes. Before she could say anything else, her phone rang.

Seeing the caller ID, her expression shifted slightly. She turned and walked away to answer it. I knew it was Preston.

I hadn't intended to eavesdrop, but the apartment complex entrance was so quiet late at night that even from a distance, I could hear her clearly.

"What's wrong? Another fracture? Don't move. Stay on the couch. I'm coming to get you right now!"

Selena hung up and started to leave. She'd already walked about 15 feet away when she suddenly spun around and grabbed me forcefully.

"You're coming with me!"

Caught off guard, I was dragged along for several steps. I tried to break free but couldn't.

"Selena, have you lost your mind? Why should I go?"

"Because you're the best surgeon at St. Catherine's Hospital and the youngest attending ever at a major teaching hospital!"

Without waiting for an answer, Selena pulled me into her Maybach and fastened my seatbelt herself. "After all, it's a matter of life and death. You can't go against the Hippocratic Oath, can you?"

The moment the car started moving, I wanted to die. I'd rather get into an accident on the way than perform surgery on my wife's lover with my own hands.

The Maybach didn't head toward Selena's riverside penthouse. Instead, we drove to a luxury apartment building in the neighboring complex. After a brief moment of surprise, I understood.

Selena's company was in the final stages of going public. At such a critical juncture, she obviously couldn't let her personal life become leverage against her, so her boy toy had to live separately for now.

Sure enough, from the moment we arrived and parked to the moment we took the elevator to the exact unit number, Selena moved with practiced ease. It was as if she'd been here countless times before.

At the door, she pulled out a key, unlocked it, and rushed inside.

A moment later, a somewhat aggrieved voice drifted out. "Lena, you're finally here. I was scared to death just now…"

Lena?

I used to think that intimate nickname belonged only to me.

A sharp, indescribable bitterness rose in my chest. My footsteps faltered, and I stayed frozen in the doorway.

A few minutes later, Selena emerged, supporting Preston as they walked out. I did a quick examination and confirmed his condition had indeed worsened. I directed Selena to help him into the ambulance I'd arranged on the way over.

Before we wheeled him into the operating room, Preston suddenly grabbed my hand. "Dr. Holt, you're the best surgeon in the state. Could you please perform my surgery?"

The medical staff nearby knew bits and pieces about my personal life. Seeing this situation unfold, one of them immediately stepped forward.

"Mr. Jones, Dr. Holt hasn't treated you before and isn't familiar with your case history. Perhaps another doctor should handle this. All of our orthopedic surgeons are highly qualified—"

But no matter how much they tried to persuade him, Preston clung stubbornly to my hand. "My injury is serious, and Lena is really worried about me. I don't trust anyone else. Please, Dr. Holt. Just this once."

He lifted his head toward Selena with a pitiful, pleading look. Selena hesitated, then turned to me. "Zacky, could you please?"

She probably didn't even realize she'd called me Zacky. Since things fell apart between us, I hadn't heard that name from her lips in two years. Now I was hearing it again, and only because of Preston.

I lowered my head, forcing myself to stay steady. "What if I said no?"

Selena fell silent for a moment. Then she reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper.

It was a wish coupon I'd written for her when we first started dating as teenagers. In still-clumsy handwriting, it read, "Use this wish coupon, and Zack Holt will unconditionally grant Selena Sloane any one request."

"What if I use this?"

No matter how badly we'd fought before, no matter how many arguments or divorce threats we'd thrown around, I'd never felt afraid—because I knew Selena had this coupon. She could use it as a get-out-of-jail-free card for our marriage, a way to keep us from truly falling apart.

But now, for Preston's sake, she was using up this final chance.

"Fine, Selena. Don't say I didn't warn you."

I snatched the paper from her hand and walked into the operating room without looking back, afraid I'd lose it if I stayed any longer.

Preston's condition was genuinely critical. The internal bone structure had shifted, and the wire from the previous fixation had gone off-course. After 16 straight hours in surgery, I managed to save his lower back and legs.

When I finally stepped out of the operating room, dizziness washed over me. I could barely walk straight. Passing by the break room, I overheard the nurses huddled together, whispering.

"Dr. Holt is so pathetic. He actually operated on his wife's boy toy. I can't believe he'd put up with that!"

"He probably can't bear to lose his wife's money. But after this, he'll definitely be replaced."

"I heard the guy hurt his back in his wife's bed, if you know what I mean."

I stopped walking. Through the glass window, I saw Selena sitting at Preston's bedside, laughing and chatting with him. They looked so intimate and harmonious, like a real married couple.

A sharp, piercing pain tore through my chest. Suddenly, everything went black, and I felt myself collapsing.

Startled cries erupted around me. Selena finally looked in my direction. But by the time she rushed toward me in panic, I'd already fallen into a familiar embrace.

In that moment, Selena froze in place, her face deathly pale.