Chapter 14
The hospital tries damage control first – some bullshit statement about “investigating” and “sharing results.”
Nobody’s buying it. The comments get vicious, their reputation tanking by the minute. “Home of cheating scumbags” starts trending.
They cave, posting a late–night notice about Marcus’s suspension. Like that’s
enough.
The internet explodes. Suspension means he could come back. No one wants a
cheating bastard as their doctor, let alone keeping his fancy “specialist” title.
The hospital’s website crashes from the flood of hate – then the video drops.
There they are in stunning HD: Ray spread out on what’s clearly his office desk,
totally naked, her pale skin glowing under the fluorescent lights. Marcus’s hands
are all over her, sliding from her stomach down to her ass, squeezing like he owns her. Their tongues fighting, wet sounds carrying over the audio, both their faces clear as day. No denying this one, doctor.
The abuse pours in faster now. Someone starts calling hospital board members. Everything spirals. I try the Chief’s number – straight to voicemail.
An hour later, Marcus creates an account just to post his resignation letter. It’s
screenshot and shared everywhere before he can blink.
The online mob finally backs off.
Police wrap up their investigation. Ray’s charged with aggravated assault and fetal homicide – looking at twenty years minimum. Plus the civil suit will cost her
millions in damages.
I’m walking out with the verdict when Marcus pulls up, looking wrecked.
“Let me drive you home,” he says softly. “I’m not busy anymore…”
He thinks I don’t know he’s unemployed. I don’t mention it.
“Don’t bother. You haven’t given me a ride in five years. We’re getting divorced – no
point starting now. I can manage.”
His hand freezes mid–reach, eyes dead with despair.
Finally hitting him, what these five years have been. Ignoring our marriage, lying
to
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my face, cheating with both body and soul.
Did he think of me while he was fucking her? While his mouth was all over her body? While they were going at it raw in his office, did he remember his wife
fighting for her life in his own hospital?
Five years of being second choice killed every scrap of love I had left.
I don’t even look at him. Just hail a cab.
“See you in court tomorrow. Let’s end this.”
I’m not taking anything from our house. I never want to see a single thing that
reminds me of him.
That night, I go back to my old apartment. It’s small, but it’s mine. Safe.
Can’t help remembering the good times though. The kisses, the way he used to hold me, when we could still be honest.
But that’s done. Time to let the past die.
I sleep better than I have in years.
Next morning at court, he’s waiting with flowers like some romantic hero.
I glance at them. “I’m allergic.”
His face crumples. “But five years ago…”
Yeah. When he proposed, I said I wanted flowers. Even with my allergies, I wanted
what everyone else had.
Funny how I never got any of it. Don’t want it anymore either.
I walk in first. He dumps the flowers by the door.
The divorce papers in my hands finally let me breathe.
Five years of bullshit, over.
He tries to drive me home again. I shut him down cold.
“Don’t contact me. No kids means no ties.”
I’m in the cab before he can speak.
Like I’d ever go back to the place I almost died.
Never seeing him again is the kindest thing I can do – for both of us.
