"Marianne, you're a joke!" Lucy spat.
So… she had known the truth all along?
Seven years of buried rage erupted all at once. I raised my hand and slapped her hard across the face.
Lucy staggered backward with dramatic flair, tumbling straight into the fountain behind her.
Before I could react, Cameron shoved me aside and rushed to pull her out of the water.
His eyes turned to me, cold and sharp as ice. "Marianne, have you lost your mind? Lucy came to apologize! How could you lay a hand on her?!"
I let out a bitter laugh. "She mentioned my mother, Cameron. Don't you think it's time we finally settled this?"
His pupils contracted sharply. "Your mom passed away due to a surgical error. What does that have to do with Lucy?! Apologize to her. Right now!"
But Lucy clutched at his sleeve, her voice delicate and filled with false humility.
"It's fine… it was my fault. We both owe Marianne an apology. Maybe this is just my punishment. If she hates me this much, it's best if we stop seeing each other. I don't want to be the reason you two fight."
I watched them walk away, their silhouettes growing smaller as my fingernails dug deep into my palms.
An hour later, Cameron sent me a message:
[Lucy is the lead on our biggest aid project. What you did today could hurt the hospital's reputation. The apology was just for appearances—don't take it personally. I'll be home once I wrap things up. Remember I said I had a surprise for you? Wait for me.]
Every word was laced with his usual gentle charm.
But this entire performance hadn't been for Lucy. It had been for me—to keep me quiet, to keep me blind.
I clutched the divorce papers and waited from late at night until dawn.
He never came home.
But the internet exploded.
#MedicalGroupCEOGoesAllOutForHisMuse shot straight to the top of trending topics.
Despite Lucy only suffering minor scrapes, he had mobilized the hospital's top experts and spared no expense.
Photos showed him gently supporting her during a check-up, his gaze full of tenderness.
The entire medical center had stayed lit through the night—all for one woman's superficial injury.
I looked at the bruises on my wrist—left from when Cameron had yanked me so hard the day before—and felt no more hesitation.
I signed the divorce papers and packed my bags.
Then I went straight to the hospital where my mother had undergone her final surgery.
I retrieved a copy of the organ donation consent form from seven years ago.
At the bottom, glaring back at me was my signature.
But I hadn't signed it.
He had forged it, mimicking my handwriting perfectly.
I made copies of the document and mailed them directly to the hospital.
By the time I boarded my flight, Cameron should have received them.
Just as the boarding announcement rang out, my phone began to buzz.
[Marianne, I asked Brendan to drop off your gift. Why weren't you home?]
[Are you still mad at me?]
[Come on, don't be like this. I'll make it up to you when I get back.]
I stared at the messages on the screen, then tapped into a livestream pushed to my feed.
In the livestream, Cameron was accompanying Lucy as she picked out a dress for a charity gala.
His eyes followed her every move.
I didn't reply. Instead, I quietly deleted every trace of him from my contacts.
One final buzz came through.
It was a confirmation text. [Your ID cancellation was successful.]
Suddenly, chaos broke into the livestream.
Cameron's assistant, Brendan Cole, burst into the frame, gasping for breath, his face pale as ash. He held a document tightly in his hands as he ran up to Cameron.
"Dr. Mitchell! Marianne found out the truth about the surgery from seven years ago. We can't reach her anymore!"
For the first time, cracks split the polished façade on Cameron's face.
He stood frozen, as if someone had just told him a joke too absurd to comprehend.
"What surgery? What are you talking about?"
