Chapter 3

Chloe walked in right at that moment. Seeing the mess, she exploded.

"Ethan! What is wrong with you? Are you seriously pulling workplace harassment now?"

I gave a cold laugh. "Harassment? Hardly."

"I assumed Dr. Austin already mastered the patient's condition. It turns out he didn't even review the full medical charts before slicing her open. What a joke. Did you think this was some high school science project?"

"This is a hospital. Patients come first. Relying on backdoor favors might get you through the door, but it won't keep your license safe."

The entire office fell deathly quiet, followed by hushed murmurs.

Everyone finally realized how Austin had stolen the spot.

Ignoring the sea of whispers, I turned on my heel and walked out.

Chloe chased after me, red-faced and yelling, "You irresponsible jerk! You don't deserve to be a doctor!"

I tuned her out completely, stepping out of the building with a blank face.

Yet deep down, a dull ache throbbed in my chest.

The biggest reason I had chosen medicine in the first place was Chloe.

Her father was an abusive gambler who beat her every time he lost, while her mother suffered from chronic heart disease.

I still remembered the day she declared she wanted to go to med school to save her mom.

So I followed her. I chose medicine, and when it came time to specialize, I chose cardiothoracic surgery without hesitation.

Curing her mother and keeping her safe had been my driving purpose for years.

When Chloe learned of my promise, she had wept in my arms.

She clung to me, whispering that outside of her mother, no one in this world had ever loved her like I did.

She was the one who swore she loved me. She was the one who promised she would marry no one else.

Until Austin showed up.

He publicly criticized my surgical plan for her mother, claiming my procedure was too radical and that conservative medical management was safer.

But Chloe's mother's heart was far too degraded for medication; conservative treatment would only prolong her suffering while draining their life savings.

Her family couldn't afford that kind of financial bleeding.

Besides, Chloe's mother had approached me in private and signed the surgical consent form herself. She wanted to fight for a real chance at life.

Tragically, an unforeseen complication arose during the operation, and she went into arrest on the table. We couldn't bring her back.

Afterward, Austin played the grieving prophet, dumping all the blame onto me.

Drip by drip, he poisoned Chloe's mind until she truly believed I was the one who killed her mother.

That tragedy drove an unbridgeable wedge between us, tearing our marriage apart from the inside out.

Losing her mother broke me. For an entire month, my hands shook so violently I couldn't pick up a scalpel.

It wasn't until months later that I uncovered the truth: Austin had tampered with the saline concentration before the surgery.

Her mother's death was on his hands.

I confronted Chloe with the evidence immediately, but she refused to believe a single word. She accused me of deflecting blame to save my own skin.

Looking back now, maybe she had never trusted me at all.

In her eyes, whatever Austin did was pure and noble, while everything I did was calculated and wrong.

I gave a bitter smile. As I headed to the curb to catch a cab, I spotted a young girl holding a basket of flowers on the sidewalk.

She looked so disheartened that I stopped and walked over.

She told me her grandmother was in the ICU and needed expensive medication.

Young as she was, selling flowers outside the hospital was the only way she could help. But the hurried passersby paid her no mind.

I pulled out my wallet. "How much for all of them? I'll take the whole basket. Go home and be with your grandmother."

The little girl's eyes widened with pure delight. "Really? Thank you so much, mister! You're an angel! Good things will come to you, I promise!"

She handed me the giant bouquet of red roses, clutching the cash as she skipped happily toward the bus stop.

Watching her walk away, I felt a strange pang.

Do good things really happen to good people?

Just as I turned around, I ran into Chloe, Austin, and a few colleagues heading out for dinner.

Austin glanced at the roses in my arms and chuckled smoothly.

"Look at Dr. Miller, so romantic! Buying roses for Chloe to make amends."

He turned to Chloe, putting on his gentle peacemaker act. "Chloe, don't be mad at him anymore. He probably just acted out earlier because he was stressed. It's really fine. Please don't let me ruin your marriage!"

Listening to his sickeningly sweet manipulation, I didn't even bother to clarify.

Chloe scoffed loudly.

"A bunch of cheap flowers? As if I care. He's so spoiled and insecure. Just because you're a resident doesn't mean he can treat you like dirt!"

She shot me a haughty glare and held out her hand.

"What are you standing there for? Come here and apologize to Austin right now, and maybe I'll let this slide."

I didn't say a word.

Ignoring her outstretched hand, I brushed right past her.