I Lost My Genius Surgeon Wife

The sharp, biting wind of early autumn in Virginia whipped across the meticulously manicured backyard of the McConnell estate. Justine Ward stood at the very edge of the massive koi pond. The pond was framed by smooth, expensive white marble that grew dangerously slick from the mist of the decorative waterfall.

She leaned forward, her fingers stretching toward the freezing water. A limited-edition superhero action figure bobbed just out of reach among the expensive orange and white koi fish. Seven-year-old Leo McConnell had thrown it in there ten minutes ago, screaming that if Justine did not retrieve it immediately, he would tell his father she stole it.

Justine's fingertips brushed the icy surface of the water. The cold immediately sent a harsh ache shooting up her knuckles.

Behind her, hidden by the perfectly trimmed French hedges, Leo stepped lightly onto the grass. The young boy's eyes gleamed with a malicious, excited light. He did not make a single sound as he closed the distance between them.

Justine shifted her weight, her leather boots slipping slightly on the wet marble.

Leo lunged forward. He planted both of his small, hard hands directly into the center of Justine's lower back and shoved with all of his body weight.

The sudden, violent force shattered Justine's precarious balance. Her stomach dropped into her shoes.

She flailed her arms wildly, her fingernails scraping against the smooth surface of a nearby marble cherub statue. The stone offered no grip. Her nails made a sickening, high-pitched screeching sound as they slid off the wet surface.

Gravity pulled her down. Justine hit the water hard.

The impact knocked the breath completely out of her lungs. The water in the koi pond was barely forty degrees. It swallowed her whole, rushing into her ears and nose, instantly numbing her skin. The heavy fabric of her designer autumn dress soaked up the water like a sponge, dragging her downward like a lead weight.

She thrashed under the murky water. Panic seized her chest, squeezing her heart until it physically hurt. She kicked her legs, her boots sinking into the thick, foul-smelling mud at the bottom of the pond. She clawed at the water, fighting the heavy dress, pushing herself upward.

Justine broke the surface. She gasped violently, sucking in the freezing autumn air.

Dirty pond water poured down her face, stinging her eyes and matting her hair to her cheeks. Her teeth immediately began to chatter so hard her jaw ached.

She wiped the water from her eyes with a numb, shaking hand. She looked toward the edge of the pond.

Leo stood a safe distance away on the dry grass. He had both hands clamped over his mouth, his shoulders shaking as he let out a loud, triumphant giggle. He was thoroughly enjoying the sight of her freezing and choking.

The heavy French doors of the estate's ground-floor patio suddenly burst open.

Carl McConnell stepped out. He wore a perfectly tailored, charcoal-gray custom suit that cost more than most people made in a year. As a prominent United States Congressman representing Virginia, Carl's appearance was always flawless. His thick dark hair was perfectly styled, but his face was currently twisted in absolute fury.

Justine reached a trembling, purple-tinged hand toward the edge of the marble. "Carl," she gasped, her voice shaking violently from the cold. "Help."

Carl did not even look at the freezing water. He completely ignored Justine's outstretched hand. Instead, he marched directly toward Leo.

He knelt on the grass and pulled the boy into a tight, protective embrace. His hands frantically checked Leo's expensive cashmere sweater to ensure not a single drop of pond water had touched him.

The moment Carl touched him, Leo's giggles vanished. The boy buried his face into Carl's neck and let out a loud, theatrical wail.

"Daddy!" Leo cried, his voice trembling with fake terror. He pointed a small finger at Justine, who was still struggling to stay afloat. "She tried to pull me in! She grabbed my arm and tried to drown me!"

Carl's head snapped up. His eyes locked onto Justine. The look in his eyes was not concern. It was pure, unadulterated disgust.

Justine grabbed the slippery edge of the marble with both hands. She tried to heave her body weight up, but the soaked dress was too heavy. Her arms gave out, and she slipped back into the freezing water up to her chin.

She looked up at her husband, expecting him to reach down and pull her out.

Carl took a deliberate step backward. He looked down at his expensive, handmade Italian leather shoes, ensuring Justine's splashing did not ruin the leather.

"Are you out of your mind?" Carl's voice boomed across the yard, sharp and punishing. "You are a grown woman, Justine! Throwing a tantrum and trying to drag a seven-year-old child into a freezing pond? You are trying to hurt the heir to the McConnell family!"

Justine froze. Her hands stopped gripping the marble.

The freezing water suddenly felt warm compared to the absolute ice that injected itself directly into her veins. Her heart stopped beating for a full second.

She opened her mouth to defend herself. She wanted to tell him that Leo pushed her. She wanted to tell him to look at the security cameras. But she looked at Carl. She saw the way his large hand gently stroked Leo's hair. She saw the absolute certainty in his eyes that she was the villain.

The words died in her throat.

A brutal gust of wind swept across the yard. Justine's body convulsed in a violent shiver.

Something inside her chest simply snapped. The desperate need to explain herself, the three years of trying to be a good stepmother, the endless attempts to make Carl love her-it all evaporated, leaving behind a hollow, echoing emptiness. She stopped fighting the water. She let her arms drop, allowing the freezing water to rise over her collarbones. But as the icy darkness threatened to pull her under completely, a new, razor-sharp thought pierced through the numbness. I refuse to die here. I will not let my life end in this filthy pond, just to become another convenient tragedy for them to exploit. The hollow emptiness was suddenly filled with a burning, white-hot resolve.

Carl saw her silence. He took it as an admission of guilt.

"If you ever try to harm my son again," Carl threatened, his voice dropping to a dangerous, low register, "I will destroy you. Do you understand me?"

Justine lowered her eyelashes. The long, wet lashes hid the light that was rapidly dying in her eyes. She bit down on the inside of her lower lip. She bit down so hard that the metallic taste of hot blood flooded her tongue.

She did not look at Carl or Leo again.

Drawing on a sudden, mechanical burst of energy, Justine swam to the far side of the pond. This side had textured stone steps built into the water. She grabbed the rough stone, ignoring how it scraped the skin off her palms, and dragged her heavy, freezing body out of the water.

She stood up on the grass. The water poured off her dress in heavy sheets, soaking the pristine lawn. She was barefoot, having lost her boots in the mud. Her thin body swayed violently in the wind, but she locked her knees and stood perfectly straight.

Carl watched her. Seeing her stand there, looking so pathetic yet so stubbornly silent, sent a spike of irrational irritation through his chest.

"Get inside," Carl snapped, pointing toward the side door of the estate. "Go to your room and stay there. Do not embarrass me in front of the staff."

Justine did not lower her head in apology. She did not cry.

She turned her head slowly. She locked her eyes onto Carl's face. She stared at him for exactly three seconds. Her eyes were completely dead. There was no anger, no sadness, no love. It was the look a person gives a piece of rotting trash on the sidewalk.

Those three seconds of absolute silence made Carl's stomach tighten. A strange, unfamiliar sense of being deeply offended washed over him. He opened his mouth to yell at her again.

Justine turned her back to him.

She began to walk toward the heavy oak side door of the estate. Her wet dress dragged heavily across the grass. She left a trail of muddy water with every barefoot step. She did not look back. Her posture was rigid, her shoulders set in a line of absolute finality.

Carl watched her walk away. The irritation in his chest expanded into a hot, uncomfortable pressure. He reached up and violently yanked at his perfect silk tie, trying to loosen the sudden restriction around his throat. He felt a bizarre, fleeting illusion that he had just lost control of something important.

Justine pushed open the heavy oak door. She stepped into the dim, warm hallway of the estate. She let the heavy door slam shut behind her, locking the freezing wind, the false accusations, and three years of humiliating marriage outside.