Chapter 4

That afternoon, I received a call from the hospital for a follow-up.

The doctor handling my check-up was Lucas, the chief surgeon who had operated on me that night.

He also happened to be my high school classmate.

"Your physical recovery is progressing better than expected, but you need to avoid extreme emotional stress right now. Get plenty of rest," Lucas said gently, reviewing the chart with a slight furrow in his brow.

Noticing my red, puffy eyes, he let out a soft sigh. "Are you still hurting over your husband?"

The night of the emergency surgery, Ethan hadn't been there to sign the consent form. I had signed it myself with trembling hands.

Lucas had been so furious he almost threw his scalpel, storming out to find Ethan—only to discover him in the adjacent room peeling an apple for Chloe, who claimed her finger was too scratched to hold a knife.

"A man like that isn't worth a single tear," Lucas said, passing me a tissue.

"I know," I murmured, dabbing at my eyes. "The divorce is already underway."

Lucas blinked in surprise, then smiled warmly.

"Good for you. If you ever need anything... don't hesitate to reach out. We're old friends, Maya. No need to be polite."

Stepping out of the hospital, my chest felt significantly lighter.

Since fate had allowed me to survive, I wasn't going to spend the rest of my days living like a joke.

I was going to focus on my career, make serious money, and thrive better than ever!

As for Ethan and Chloe, that toxic pair—I couldn't wait to see how long their touching, saintly bond would last without my bank account footing the bill.

For the next few days, Ethan stalled, refusing to sign the divorce papers.

He probably convinced himself I was just playing hard to get, or that I couldn't survive without him.

He even brought Evelyn to make a scene at my office.

It happened right during the lunch rush. Evelyn sat flat on the reception floor, slapping her thighs and wailing dramatically for the crowd.

"There’s no justice in this world! Look at this wicked woman! She can't bear children, and now she wants to abandon the husband who stood by her!"

"My son was out saving lives! He's a decorated hero! And she wants to divorce him and steal every penny of his assets! Heartless monster!"

Colleagues and clients began gathering around, murmuring and pointing.

Ethan stood nearby in full uniform, wearing an expression of deep sorrow and helplessness. Far from stopping his mother’s theatrics, he let out heavy sighs, looking like the ultimate wronged martyr.

"Maya, please come out! As long as you come home and apologize to Chloe, I’ll talk Mom down! We can still make this marriage work!"

He called toward the reception desk, playing the devoted husband to perfection.

I was in the middle of a video conference with an important client in my office. Hearing the commotion outside, pure rage surged straight to my skull.

This was his idea of dignity?

Using lowlife intimidation tactics just to force my submission?

I apologized to the client, disconnected the call, grabbed my purse, and strode out.

"Ethan, do you have any shame left at all?"

I stood in the center of the lobby, glaring down at the pathetic mother-and-son duo.

"Your mother rolls on the floor like a lunatic, and you stand there playing the blameless victim? Since you two discarded your dignity, let me help you strip the rest of it away!"

I pulled out my phone and wirelessly mirrored it to the lobby's massive presentation projector.