She Cured Him, I Cured Myself

"Quit? Floria, you've got some nerve to threaten me here," Isiah hissed, seizing my arm. "Fine, go! But if you walk out, we're done for good!"

"Perfect." I just gave a cool smile. "Don't forget to sign the divorce agreement and send it over."

He blinked, yanking harder. "Divorce agreement? Quitting's not enough—you're hitting me with divorce now?"

His feigned shock turned my stomach. The read receipt on the agreement I'd sent was crystal clear, yet here he was, playing dumb.

I twisted free, meeting his accusatory gaze dead-on. "All you have to do is sign and deliver."

Sick of the back-and-forth, I scooped up my box and kept walking. He bellowed after me, "If you leave today, you'll regret it!"

I snorted, stepping into the elevator.

Down in the lobby, his seething voice crackled over the PA system. "Due to Director Floria Roth's breach of professional ethics and her baseless smears against Dr. Zoe Mitchell, I, as her family, extend my deepest apologies. She is hereby terminated, with her year-end bonus redirected as compensation to the victim."

I never imagined that, for Zoe's sake, he'd smear me as unhinged and torch my career.

The lobby erupted in murmurs, fingers jabbing my way.

"So, she's the one who framed Dr. Mitchell. Jealousy's a hell of a drug."

"A department head? Must've slept her way up. Poor Dr. Mitchell—total injustice."

A woman charged forward, dumping her half-empty soda bottle over my head. "Disgusting! Scum like you don't belong in medicine. Get lost!"

The sticky chill crawled over my skin. I bolted to the garage, fumbling my keys into the ignition. But Zoe appeared out of nowhere, blocking the car with a smug, pitying grin.

"Tsk-tsk! Look at the mess you're in!" she scoffed. "You've been played the whole time. He turns you down, but the very next day, he's railing me in the office until my legs give out. Poor thing, living like a widow for two years."

I gritted my teeth, secretly recording her words on my phone.

Then she dangled the signed divorce agreement at me, smirking at my confusion. "Seeing you get wrecked like this? Isiah finally took pity and signed. He is mad and doesn't even want to see your face. He wants you to stay gone."

I snatched it, confirming his signature with a hollow laugh.

That was the man I knew. He wouldn't divorce me a moment ago, but he signed the agreement the next moment.

With a self-deprecating smile, I brushed past her and peeled out to City Hall for the certificate. Only then did a sliver of relief settle in.

Back home to grab my things, I nearly collided with Isiah's parents, laden with bulging bags.