To help my surgeon husband with his erectile dysfunction, I made an appointment with an expert six months in advance.

But as the day approached, Isiah Coleman canceled it without explanation.

Just as I was about to call him to demand answers, I spotted a post from his female friend on her social media. My usually stoic husband was beaming as he wrapped his arms around her.

The caption read: [Only I can cure your illness.]

What struck me, though, was the telltale bulge in his pants in the photo—a reaction I'd never seen from him with me.

With a cold laugh, I liked the post and left a comment: [What a miracle worker!]

The post exploded, with everyone speculating whether I'd confront the mistress. But what awaited him after the holiday was our freshly printed divorce certificate.

...

"You're insane!" Isiah Coleman huffed. "Zoe was kind enough to treat me, and it's all for your sexual happiness. How could you be sarcastic on social media? You're impossible!"

I shut my eyes and took a deep breath. "I waited for you in the mountains for seven hours, and you never showed up."

He paused, growing impatient. "I'm fine now. Why did you even go there? Stay put. I'm coming to pick you up."

His sudden concern only made me squeeze my eyes shut tighter. "No need."

I hung up and trudged resolutely down the mountain. But then a downpour started, and an urgent honk sounded behind me.

Isiah stuck his head out of the car, urging me, "Floria, get in!"

Unwilling to get soaked, I opened the car door, ready to climb in when Zoe Mitchell called him. "Isiah, I feel awful after treating you earlier. Can you take me to the hospital?"

He hung up, locked the door with a frown, and said flatly, "Shelter under that tree. Zoe's waiting for me."

"But I'm already getting in," I protested.

He just floored the accelerator and sped off, not even glancing back.

I watched the car vanish into the distance, a chill wind wrapping around me like icy fingers. I shivered uncontrollably.

It was always like this. Whenever Zoe was in trouble, he would drop everything to be by her side.

Taking a deep breath, I pulled up the divorce agreement I'd prepared long ago and sent it to him.

After hiking what felt like miles down the rain-slicked path, I flagged down a ride-share and finally made it home.

As I reached the front door, my phone buzzed with a notification from our friends' group chat. Someone had shared a screenshot of Zoe's post.

[Zoe's caption is brutal! What kind of disease does Isiah have that needs her touch?]

[What else? His erectile dysfunction around Floria.]

I was shocked by how much they knew about the private matter. Before I could dwell on it, the next message came, making my skin crawl.

[Everyone knows Zoe is Isiah's first love. Floria gets neither his body nor his heart.]

[No wonder Isiah faked the erectile dysfunction to stay faithful to Zoe. Only a fool like Floria would buy it.]

I clenched my jaw. I never imagined he'd go this far for her.

"I don't care about his heart or body! We're divorcing," I spoke into the phone, ready to send it.

Just then, another message pinged: [Holy crap! Delete that! How is Floria in the group?]

The next instant, I was booted out.

I let out a bitter laugh, deciding not to pursue it. With only three days left in the cooling-off period, the only thing I cared about was the divorce certificate.

But as I fumbled for my keys at the door, a crack in the frame revealed Isiah slumped on the sofa, clutching a sexy photo of Zoe.

He murmured to himself, lost in the moment, "Zoe... Zoe... I love you so much."

The sight drew a hollow chuckle from me. In the old days, I'd have stormed in demanding answers. Now, I just watched him coldly.

As his breathing quickened, my heart turned to ice, inch by inch.

I shoved the door open, startling him. He stuffed the photo into his pocket with fumbling hands.

I squinted at him. "So, you ditched me halfway down the mountain to come home and get off? What, no more dysfunction?"

He coughed awkwardly, masking his guilt. "I was just starting to get hard when you interrupted. Now it's gone again."

I looked at him with disdain. "Oh really? I thought you were faking it to avoid me."

Panic flickered in his eyes for a split second. Then, as if to prove his point, he grabbed my hand and pulled it toward his crotch.

"How could you say that?" he said. "Don't believe me? Here, feel it for yourself."

I flinched, my stomach churning at the thought of Zoe touching him. I pulled my hand free and stepped back. "I don't care whether it's working or not. We're getting a divorce."

Isiah froze, his eyes bulging as he ground his teeth. "Just because I can't perform, you want a divorce? Floria, have you lost your mind?"

Ignoring the doubt in his stare, I nodded casually and swept all the medicine from the table into the trash bin.

"I'm doing just fine. I just don't want to play widow at my age." I shrugged. "What's the issue? Didn't you receive the divorce agreement?"

His expression hardened, humiliation fueling his rage. "You want a divorce? On what grounds?"

He clamped down on my wrist. "You said you didn't mind, that you'd stick by me until I was cured. Now you're bailing? How can you be so shallow?"

He pressed closer, his fury seeming all too real, but I wasn't in the mood for his games today. I wrenched free and glared. "Yeah, I'm shallow. So go find someone who's not."

My eyes narrowed, flicking mockingly to the pocket where he'd stashed the photo. "Someone like Zoe."

His brows knit tight. After a long silence, he let out a chuckle, his tone softening like he was coaxing a child. "So, you're jealous, huh? Zoe and I are just colleagues, nothing more. Leaving you hanging today was my bad. I promise, I'll cooperate fully with the treatment from now on."

He reached for my damp, chilled jacket, trying to peel it off. I slapped his hand away, snatching my bag and heading for the bedroom with a cold laugh. "Cooperate? With what? You all kicked me out of the group chat. Why keep up the charade?"

He blocked the doorway, eyes wide with feigned innocence. "That never happened. Those idiots were just talking trash. I did it to keep you from getting the wrong idea, so..."

Zoe's call cut him off in mid-sentence. His face twisted in worry as he muttered, "Zoe's got some trouble. I need to handle it."

He changed his shoes and bolted out of the house. See? His lies always caught up to him.

I leaned against the doorframe, a wry hum escaping me. "Go on, then. You two sort out those needs of yours."

The jab hit home, and he whirled back, fury erupting. "Do you have to be so vicious, Floria?"

I didn't bother replying, and it was like punching cotton. He slammed the door on his way out, frustration echoing in the empty villa.

The once-cozy home felt barren now. I flashed back to the early days, pouring my family's fortune into the hospital to fuel his doctor dreams.

I'd supported him quietly from the shadows, even hiring Zoe at his insistence. And this was my reward. Inviting the wolf inside.

I lowered my gaze and dialed a real estate agent. "Hello, I have a house for urgent sale."

The next day, I went to the hospital to clear out my office, craving a real break. But as I lugged my box toward the exit, Zoe blocked my path, thrusting a bag at me with a saccharine smile.

"Floria, I heard you're still treating Isiah's issue. He goes all night when I wear this lingerie, so I got you a set," she said, her eyes gleaming with brazen triumph.

I snatched the lingerie and crammed it into her mouth. "Wear it yourself. I'm divorcing him. You can have the trash."

She choked, coughing wildly. "Floria, I didn't mean any harm. Are you just embarrassed by how cheap my gift is?"

Isiah came rushing over, his face thunderous. He backhanded me across the cheek. "Floria! Apologize to her now!"

Zoe's eyes flashed with cunning before she softened into the victim role, cooing at him. "It's fine, Isiah. She's probably just too high-class for something so inexpensive."

Isiah glared at me, his fury building. "Being snooty doesn't give you the right to shove it in her face. Bow and apologize to her immediately!"

The commotion drew a crowd, all of them whispering and pointing at me accusingly.

I bit down hard, staring at Isiah in disbelief as he twisted the truth. Raising my voice, I shot back, "Apologize? Did you ever think about us while you were sneaking around behind my back?"

"Shut up!" He clamped a hand over my lips, eyeing the crowd. "Are you deranged? Keep slandering Zoe, and I'll have you suspended."

"No need. I quit." I shoved his hand off and turned to leave.

"Quit? Floria, you've got some nerve to threaten me here," Isiah hissed, seizing my arm. "Fine, go! But if you walk out, we're done for good!"

"Perfect." I just gave a cool smile. "Don't forget to sign the divorce agreement and send it over."

He blinked, yanking harder. "Divorce agreement? Quitting's not enough—you're hitting me with divorce now?"

His feigned shock turned my stomach. The read receipt on the agreement I'd sent was crystal clear, yet here he was, playing dumb.

I twisted free, meeting his accusatory gaze dead-on. "All you have to do is sign and deliver."

Sick of the back-and-forth, I scooped up my box and kept walking. He bellowed after me, "If you leave today, you'll regret it!"

I snorted, stepping into the elevator.

Down in the lobby, his seething voice crackled over the PA system. "Due to Director Floria Roth's breach of professional ethics and her baseless smears against Dr. Zoe Mitchell, I, as her family, extend my deepest apologies. She is hereby terminated, with her year-end bonus redirected as compensation to the victim."

I never imagined that, for Zoe's sake, he'd smear me as unhinged and torch my career.

The lobby erupted in murmurs, fingers jabbing my way.

"So, she's the one who framed Dr. Mitchell. Jealousy's a hell of a drug."

"A department head? Must've slept her way up. Poor Dr. Mitchell—total injustice."

A woman charged forward, dumping her half-empty soda bottle over my head. "Disgusting! Scum like you don't belong in medicine. Get lost!"

The sticky chill crawled over my skin. I bolted to the garage, fumbling my keys into the ignition. But Zoe appeared out of nowhere, blocking the car with a smug, pitying grin.

"Tsk-tsk! Look at the mess you're in!" she scoffed. "You've been played the whole time. He turns you down, but the very next day, he's railing me in the office until my legs give out. Poor thing, living like a widow for two years."

I gritted my teeth, secretly recording her words on my phone.

Then she dangled the signed divorce agreement at me, smirking at my confusion. "Seeing you get wrecked like this? Isiah finally took pity and signed. He is mad and doesn't even want to see your face. He wants you to stay gone."

I snatched it, confirming his signature with a hollow laugh.

That was the man I knew. He wouldn't divorce me a moment ago, but he signed the agreement the next moment.

With a self-deprecating smile, I brushed past her and peeled out to City Hall for the certificate. Only then did a sliver of relief settle in.

Back home to grab my things, I nearly collided with Isiah's parents, laden with bulging bags.