Dinner for Him, Divorce for Her

During the holiday break, my wife, Jayda Glover—the hospital's star surgeon and Chief of Cardiac Surgery—suddenly "had to work overtime." Our third-anniversary hot springs trip? Canceled.

That night, I was scrolling social media when a post from her intern, Dillon Tripp, popped up.

My ice-queen wife always said her "golden hands" were only for patients.

Apparently, they cook now too.

She was in a cartoon apron, calmly chopping vegetables.

The caption read:

[Thank you, Dr. Glover, for personally cooking to comfort me after I was bullied by a patient's family!]

I tapped like and left a comment.

[White coat to apron. Very domestic.]

Ten minutes later, the whole hospital knew Cardiac Surgery's untouchable beauty had broken her rule—just to cook for a younger guy.

Jayda called.

Dishes clattered in the background.

"You really had to embarrass me in public? He got hot water thrown on him by a patient's family today. I was just doing my duty as his mentor!

"A pampered professor's kid like you wouldn't know the first thing about how hard broke med students have it.

"Apologize to Dillon right now. Otherwise, no matter how much you beg later, I'm not going on that trip with you!"

Beg her?

I looked at the divorce papers that had just arrived on the coffee table and let out a quiet laugh.

I wasn't begging anymore.

From this moment on, we were strangers.

"I don't need you on that trip."

I hung up before Jayda could answer.

Seconds later, my phone blew up.

In three years of marriage, this was the first time I hadn't swallowed her harsh words—and the first time I'd hung up on her.

Apparently, that shocked her.

The nonstop buzzing got on my nerves. I blocked her and stared at the empty aquarium.

"Mr. Hart, would you still like the customized dolphin show?" the staff member asked, glancing at the bouquet on the empty seat beside me.

Like he could already guess the story.

"Just start it. I'll watch alone."

The second I finished speaking, my phone buzzed.

Dillon had made a small group chat.

[Holden, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have posted that on social media and caused a misunderstanding. I'm sorry. Please don't be mad.]

Then he sent a teary-eyed selfie.

One hand rested on his shoulder.

I didn't need to guess whose hand that was. Jayda was busy comforting her poor, "wronged" intern.

Right on cue, the chat blew up the moment the photo dropped.

[It was just a joke. Do you really have to take it so seriously? So narrow-minded!]

[Am I the only one noticing that's Jayda's hand on Dillon's shoulder? Wow, that's sweet. Someone's clearly jealous and starting drama.]

[What a clown! Always stirring up trouble!]

Jayda was the hospital's top authority. People respected her—and feared her. Everyone wanted to stay on her good side.

And everyone knew she spoiled Dillon.

So of course they rushed to defend him, hoping she'd notice.

And me?

I got to watch my own mentee trash me just to score points with her.

Funny thing—people seemed to have forgotten this hospital existed because of my investment.

I turned off the screen.

Then I watched the dolphin show alone, done with their rotten drama.

My phone rang again.

Cardiac Surgery's deputy director.

"The surgery's about to start. Where are you?!"

"What surgery?"

I froze.

Before the holiday break, I'd worked overtime for days clearing my schedule.

There shouldn't have been a single case left.

His voice snapped with anger.

"The heart patient admitted a few days ago. Dillon said he had something to handle and passed the case to you while he's on leave. Can at least one of you be reliable?!"

I laughed.

Dillon was an intern who ran errands. He wasn't even qualified to assist in surgery.

But he loved playing hotshot, so he pushed to get on the operating table.

And Jayda—apparently out of her mind—actually agreed. She let an intern who could barely name the instruments step into surgery.

Now those two were off flirting somewhere, and I was supposed to clean up their mess?

"No one told me about this. Jayda's busy cozying up to her intern. If she rushes over now, she might still make it. Don't call me again. I'm visiting my LATE wife's grave."

I hung up before he could say another word.

Did they really think I was that easy to push around?

My wife ran off with someone else, and they still expected me to clean up their mess?

Right as the dolphin show hit its biggest moment, a staff member rushed in, holding out a phone with an awkward look.

"Mr. Hart, your wife is looking for you."

I rolled my eyes. 'She really won't drop this.'

The second I took the phone, Jayda's arrogant voice blasted through.

"Holden Hart, are you asking for trouble?"