Chapter 4

*Ha.*

I burst out laughing, a hollow sound. My mind flashed through countless nights of collapsing in exhaustion at the operating table.

The bloodshot eyes from perfecting my techniques, the thousands of papers I’d devoured to push the limits of surgery…

All just to ensure every operation was safe, to make Harmony Medical Center’s stellar reputation shine even brighter.

I practically lived in the on-call room and the library, sacrificing countless moments we could have shared. Even starting a family was constantly postponed because he always said:

“Amelia, our hospital’s development has just begun.”

And now?

Now, after I’d just completed the nation’s first transcatheter mitral valve repair, anticipating an embrace from him, I walked in on him holding hands with the intern he was supposed to be mentoring.

I watched Chloe lean against his white coat, her face streaked with tears that couldn’t hide a triumphant smile.

I watched Brandon look down at her with a tenderness and indulgence he had *never* shown me.

This relationship, it should have ended a long time ago.

I took off my stethoscope and tossed it onto the desk. “Let’s get a divorce.”

Brandon remained utterly calm, not even a blink.

He pulled two documents from his desk.

The first, a ‘Research Project Lead Change Request,’ had my name neatly crossed out.

The second, a ‘Physician Practice Location Change Consent Form,’ was already signed with his full name.

“Sign it,” he said, slapping the papers onto the desk.

“Once you sign, go to medical administration and transfer Patient 001’s tumor surgery team to Chloe.”

“Why should I?!”

“I spent a month preparing this surgical plan, staying up night after night.”

“Yours?” He suddenly laughed, his hand pointing sharply at the ‘Hospital Management Regulations’ posted on the wall.

“Amelia Hayes, please open your eyes and read the hospital bylaws clearly. All medical teams and research outcomes belong to the hospital’s legal representative. Participating physicians only retain the right to be credited.”

My eyes widened in shock.

I stared, utterly fixated, at the familiar signature on that ‘Physician Practice Change Consent Form.’

Back then, during a crucial phase of the hospital’s restructuring, Brandon had held that document, his fingers slightly trembling beneath his white coat.

“Amelia, you know the risks involved in hospital reform. This agreement is just to satisfy the state medical board’s inspection. If our accreditation fails, it will at least protect your practice license.”

His eyes were red-rimmed as he gripped my hand. “And those conservative old guard on the board… they need a clear statement. Trust me, it’s just a piece of paper, do we really need this between us?”

“I love you, and I don’t want to drag you down.”

At that time, I was completely swept up in Brandon’s so-called fake love, even touched by his supposed thoughtfulness.

That thirty-page professional document… I hadn’t even bothered to scrutinize the fine print clauses.

I, the person who could spot a 0.5mm nodule on a CT scan, had ironically missed the malignant tumor growing in my own life.

How incredibly ironic…

Amelia Hayes, nicknamed the living atlas of cardiac surgery, whose most frequent advice during mentorship was to meticulously study every single word of a pre-op surgical plan.

My heart and soul, poured into my medical career, even rejecting top-tier offers from international institutions.

Now, it had all culminated in betrayal, leaving me with absolutely nothing.