One month after our wedding, my wife got drunk and slept with her male assistant.

Later, she brought him to our home, tied him up and made him kneel before me. He kept apologizing even bowed down to me until his head was bleeding.

I thought she was truly remorseful. My heart softened. I chose to forgive her.

But at the company’s anniversary celebration, in front of hundreds of guests, my wife made an announcement that shattered whatever was left of us.

“I’m pregnant with Andrew Watson’s child,” she said with a radiant smile. “And this child will be the heir to the Gruman group.”

After the banquet, she knelt before me once again and confessed, her voice trembling.

“Mike Andrew is an orphan… and he’s just been diagnosed with cancer. This child is his only blood relative. I couldn’t bear to…”

She reached for my hand, eyes pleading.

“Don’t worry—he doesn’t want formal recognition. The baby can carry your name. He’ll only visit from time to time.”

I looked at her, hollowed out. “And then?”

She hesitated, then spoke as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “Andrew has been anxious and scared. He wants me to stay with him every day… You understand, right?”

“Of course,” I replied blankly. “I’ll visit you on weekends. Once the baby’s born, we’ll sort things out.”

Kate Gruman’s expression softened into a smile. She leaned in and brushed her cold lips against my cheek.

“Mike, I knew you’d understand.”

She picked up her luggage and walked out the door without another word.

I took off my wedding ring and dialed a number.

“Hi, old classmate, she’s divorced and abandoned now. Do you still want her?”

——

Then I started packing. Around me, the wedding room still shimmered with celebration—bright flowers, delicate lace, photos of happier times. A bitter taste rose in my throat.

Our innocent first love in college. The sweet, everyday life after graduation.

I really thought we were different. From lecture halls to wedding vows. But life has a way of proving you wrong.

Tears welled up and I shut my eyes tightly to hold them back.

Just as I was wheeling my suitcase toward the door, Kate called.

“Mike, come to the Romhs Villa right away. Andrew’s feeling unwell and anxious,” she said, her voice a mix of urgency and annoyance.

I looked at my hands—hands that had once saved lives in operating rooms. One day, those same hands might be used to treat my wife’s lover.

The divorce wasn’t finalized. I turned around and went.

The villa door was wide open when I arrived.

Inside, Kate was holding Andrew in her arms, gently comforting him. Her voice, her expression—so tender, so soft. I had never seen her look at me that way.

“Be good. Drink this calming soup. I simmered it for three hours, just for you.”

I had told myself not to feel anything. But the bitterness rose again.

She had once lived like a queen—everything handed to her, not even needing to lift a finger.

And now, she was in the kitchen, making soup for another man.

I drew in a deep breath and stepped inside.

She stood up quickly when she saw me, then instinctively reached out to support Andrew’s waist.

“Still dizzy? Mike’s here. Let him take a look.”

She turned to me.

“Mike Andrew’s been having chest tightness and dizziness. Please, check him.”

Andrew clung to her arm, leaning into her completely.

“Brother… I told her I’m fine. But Kate insisted you come.”

His voice trembled.

“I feel so guilty. I hate myself for destroying someone else’s family. But I…”

He broke down in tears.

Kate immediately soothed him, her voice full of love and reassurance.

“Andrew, I’ve told you—it was my fault. I drank too much that night. You’re not to blame. You did it for the child.”

She smiled and gestured around.

“See? I redecorated the room. Our wedding photos, your favorite roses… This will be our home now.”

Only then did I notice.

The room was filled with photos of them—laughing, walking together, eating, even one where he carried her across a sunlit lawn.

Their life was already built.

And I was no longer part of it.

The white skirt fluttered in the air. They must have been truly happy then.

Was it a month ago? Two? Or even longer?

But Kate had never smiled like that with me.

Even on vacations, she was always glued to her phone, answering emails, arranging meetings—half-present at best.

“But, Mike…”

Andrew looked at me with wide, guilty eyes, as if he were the victim.

Kate quickly stepped between us and tugged me closer to him.

“Mike, tell Andrew he’s not a third party. That he didn’t ruin our marriage. Tell him you’re willing to treat him like family.”

Her urgency was almost laughable.

I scoffed.

“Kate, you want me to treat the homewrecker like family? What is this—some fantasy of yours?”

I turned to Andrew, my voice cold and clear.

“Stop pretending. You’re not innocent—you’re calculated. A social climber who wants a reputation. You think having a baby with her will give you status. You want me out so you can marry into the Gruman Family, right?”

His face turned pale, then flushed red. His lips trembled as tears brimmed in his eyes, though none fell.

“You… how can you say that to me?”

“How? Because it’s the truth. But if I’m wrong, prove it. Sign this.”

I pulled out a document and tossed it at him.

“After the child is born, go abroad. Never contact Kate again. We’ll cover the expenses and child support. Just disappear.”

Andrew stared at the paper, his chest heaving as his breath grew shallow.

“Kate…. I’ll leave. I’ll go now. I… I can’t do this…”

Then his eyes rolled back and he collapsed into her arms.

Panic swept over Kate’s face as she cradled him, slapping his cheek.

“Andrew! Wake up! I’m taking you to the hospital—now!”

As she brushed past me, she stopped. Then—crack—a stinging slap landed across my face.

“Mike, I’ve clearly been too kind to you. You’ve forgotten your place.”

Her voice shook with fury.

“Andrew has cancer and all you can do is attacking him. He’s kind and sensitive—he’s always blaming himself, always trying to make peace with you! And you repay him like this?!”

She turned to the servants.

“Lock him in the basement. No one opens the door unless I say so.”

Then, carrying Andrew in her arms like a wounded hero, she walked away.

As they left, he glanced over his shoulder at me—eyes filled with scorn and disdain.

I struggled, but the guards overpowered me, dragging me down to the basement and tying me to a chair. I screamed, but one of them stuffed a filthy rag into my mouth.

A sour, rotting stench filled my nose—I gagged, vomiting until I could barely breathe. Only muffled cries escaped after that.

The basement was pitch-black.

I thrashed against the restraints until my strength gave out.

Hunger gnawed at me at first, but after a while, all that remained was nausea and a stabbing pain in my gut.

Time passed—minutes? Hours? Days? I no longer knew. I slipped in and out of consciousness, my limbs numb, like they belonged to someone else.

Eventually, the door creaked open.

Kate appeared, supporting Andrew like he was some fragile prince. They stood silhouetted in the light at the top of the stairs.

“Mike,” she called gently, “have you thought it through? It’s been two days. You must be starving. If you just apologize to Andrew, I’ll let you out.”

I forced what little strength I had left into my voice.

“You bastard…” I croaked. “What did I do wrong? Was it not cheering when you found a mistress? Not welcoming him into my home with flowers?”

But before I could say more, the world tilted. Darkness surged.

I fainted.

In a haze, I felt warm arms wrap around me.

“Why are you so stubborn?” a voice murmured beside my ear. “How can you live with Andrew like this? That temper of yours—it needs softening…”

When I opened my eyes again, I was in a hospital room.

My wrist was bandaged tightly, thick layers covering fresh stitches.

I tried to move.

A nurse walked in and stopped me gently.

“Don’t move. You just had surgery on your wrist.”

I stared at my wrist in disbelief. I had only been locked up for two days—what happened to my hand?

Just then, my close friend, Director Lane, entered the room. He looked at me and sighed heavily.

“Dr. Johansson, how could you let this happen? You know better than anyone—a doctor’s hands are their lifeline.”

He held up my arm gently, examining the thick bandages.

“Your wrist suffered prolonged poor circulation. The nerves are severely damaged. We don’t know how long recovery will take… or if full function will return at all.”

My heart plummeted.

Being a doctor wasn’t just a profession—it was my purpose.

I had knelt for an entire night in the rain, begging my father to let me abandon a future in business and pursue clinical medicine instead.

I fought hard to get here—graduating top of my class, grinding through residency, earning my spot as a chief physician in just three years.

And now, I looked down at my stiff, motionless fingers. Pain exploded through my chest, far sharper than the injury itself.

Kate.

You knew how much this meant to me. You knew.

How could you still let it happen?

The door creaked open.

Kate walked in, carrying Andrew in her arms like he was made of glass. Her eyes flicked to my bandaged hand, her tone cool and unbothered.

“Do you know what you did wrong now?”

Without a hint of guilt, she added, “If you hadn’t been so cruel to Andrew… if you hadn’t insulted him like that… I wouldn’t have had to hurt your hand.”

She glanced around the room casually. “It’s better this way. I never liked hospitals anyway. Always smells like disinfectant. Once I give birth, you can stay home and take care of the baby.

My heart stopped.

I couldn’t tell whether the pain I felt was in my chest or radiating from every shattered nerve in my body.

The woman I had grown up with—my classmate, my best friend, my wife—was gone.

We had shared twenty years together.

She had once stood beside me, soaked and trembling, kneeling with me under the storm as I begged to chase my dream.

She had once waited patiently outside the lab, warming my cold hands in hers.

That girl no longer existed.

All that remained was this stranger, speaking heartless words like they were business transactions.

When she reached out, I slapped her.

Hard.

“Kate,” I said coldly, “take your lover and get out. I want a divorce.”

Her face twisted with fury.

“Mike, don’t think your Johansson Family name gives you the right to look down on me! I—Kate—don’t need to cling to anyone—!”

She grabbed my wrist mid-sentence. Then froze.

Blood immediately seeped through the bandages, bright red and spreading fast.

Her expression cracked—guilt, shock, fear—and then she screamed,

“Doctor! Where’s the doctor?!”

“Someone come help! If anything happens to his hand, I swear I’ll tear this place down!”

The doctors rushed in. Bandages were stripped away and I was wheeled back into the operating room.

An hour later, I was pale and groggy as they pushed me back into the ward. Director Lane stood beside me, his expression thunderous.

“What were you thinking?” he snapped. “Do you want to throw away your career? You risked permanent damage—for what?”

“For a woman?” His eyes flicked to Kate, who stood silently beside the bed. “You're not just degrading yourself, you're making a fool out of me. Don’t call yourself my disciple anymore—it's an embarrassment.”

Then he sighed and shook his head, clearly exhausted.

“Why can’t you be more like Andrew? Calm. Considerate. Understanding.”

I turned my head slowly.

Andrew was leaning into Kate’s shoulder, looking frightened and fragile. As if he were the victim here.

I let out a low laugh.

The doctor was right. I had been a fool—for giving my loyalty to a woman so blind.

“Kate,” I said coldly, “this is who I am. I’m not changing. And I am sure as hell I won’t become someone who keeps a lover at home without a shred of shame.”

“I want a divorce.”

Her face darkened instantly.

“You think you can keep threatening me with that?”

“I’m taking care of Andrew. He’s the father of my child. I’m not heartless like you.”

She stepped closer, voice dripping with contempt.

“There are six months left until I give birth. You’d better reflect. Because if you keep acting like this, Andrew won’t feel safe leaving the baby in your care. Not with someone so narrow-minded and selfish.”

I stared at her.

Then, with a hollow laugh, I smiled.