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.

“Kate, I don’t care about your lover’s child. If you refuse to divorce me, then we’ll settle this in court.”

Kate trembled with fury.

“Mike, are you seriously threatening me with a lawsuit? You’re willing to drag both of our families’ reputations through the mud just because you can’t stand Andrew?”

Her voice turned sharp, laced with scorn.

“In today’s world, people like me have male models on the side. I didn’t even hide it from you—doesn’t that show how much I respected you? And you still want a divorce? Maybe it’s you who needs to reflect.”

With that, she wrapped her arms around Andrew and stormed off, not sparing me a second glance.

I let out a low, bitter laugh.

Years of tolerance. Years of sacrificing my pride for her. It had only fed her arrogance and turned my love into something she trampled without thought.

And just like that, everything I once felt for her… disappeared.

For an entire week, Kate never came to see me at the hospital.

But Andrew’s posts were filled with her presence—photos of her strolling the ancient city walls with him, wearing an apron as she prepared homemade soup, smiling as he photographed her and posted her pictures like trophies.

It was ironic.

She had once claimed to hate posting on messanger. Said it was childish. Undignified.

I had begged her once to take a photo with me—just one—and she had turned pale, snatched my phone and deleted it before ten seconds passed.

And now?

There she was, beaming in Andrew’s arms beneath the historic stone arches, her smile brighter than I'd ever seen.

Love and indifference, it turned out, were plain as day.

On the eighth day, Kate finally returned to handle my discharge. I didn’t say a word. I simply followed her out.

As we stepped into the villa, shrill, panicked screams rang out from inside.

Before I could process what was happening, Kate bolted forward like a gust of wind. I ran in after her.

Inside, two scruffy men were dragging Andrew across the floor, their grip forceful and predatory.

“Come on, handsome,” one of them sneered, “I was paid to serve you, so stop playing hard to get.”

Andrew collapsed to his knees, sobbing as he pleaded.

“Don’t touch me—please, I’m begging you!”

His clothes were torn, his face streaked with tears, his body trembling.

With a shout, Kate lunged forward and punched one of the men square in the jaw. He stumbled back and she quickly gathered Andrew into her arms.

Bodyguards rushed in behind us, armed with sticks. The two men bolted in fear, scrambling over the courtyard wall and disappearing into the distance.

Andrew clung to Kate like a lifeline, his voice ragged.

“Kate… someone sent them. Someone paid them to come.”

Then, turning his tear-streaked face toward me, he pointed with trembling fingers.

“Mike, how could you be so cruel? I was nearly ruined—and you brought men to humiliate me like this!”

He suddenly pushed himself out of Kate’s arms, stumbling over to me and collapsing to his knees.

With a guttural sob, he began slamming his forehead against the floor.

“Mike, please—I’m begging you. It’s all my fault. Just don’t hurt my child. Once he’s born, I’ll disappear forever. I’ll go to the mountains, to the desert—anywhere. Just… just let my child live!”

The thud of his head against the ground echoed through the hall. His forehead swelled rapidly and blood trickled down in thin red streams.

Kate wrapped her arms around him again, cradling him like a mother with her child.

“Andrew… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t protect you.”

Andrew looked up at her with trembling lips, his face pale and streaked with tears.

“Sister… please. Let me go.”

Then he buried his face in her lap and sobbed until his voice broke.

Kate’s tears fell silently as she stroked his hair and kissed his bruised forehead over and over again.

“Andrew, I won’t let you go. I can’t. Don’t leave me.”

“I thought this life would last forever,” she whispered, voice thick with sorrow. “You were so gentle. So kind. Heaven brought you into my life. And you are the one I love most in this world.”

Her words pierced me like an icy blade, clean and merciless.

Even though I had already let go of hope, something deep within me still shattered.