He Chose Me... Or Did He?

Sherry's POV

Ellie Jett said into the microphone, "Thank you so much for supporting me over the past three years, Dr. Shearer. I wouldn't have won this award today without you..."

Albert Shearer was standing below the stage, unable to hide the proud look on his face.

Envious murmurs came from the people around me.

"Dr. Shearer stood up for Ellie, his favorite mentee, back then. His mother-in-law nearly died on the operating table, and he still refused to hold Ellie accountable."

"That's not all. With his support, Ellie has been winning award after award at our hospital. They're practically the perfect couple!"

By the time I came to my senses, my face was already wet with tears.

The man who had once sworn he would uphold justice for me was now pampering the perpetrator as if she were a delicate little flower.

After stepping off the stage, Ellie threw herself into his arms, looking utterly aggrieved. "So many people keep bringing up what happened three years ago. Are you still going to blame me for it?"

Albert ruffled her hair affectionately. "Silly girl. None of that was your fault to begin with. As long as I'm here to back you up, no one will dare upset you. That minor incident means nothing compared to your happiness. I'm here for you, okay?"

Ellie was so moved that she kept wiping away her tears.

Meanwhile, my heart shattered into a million pieces.

My mother, Bernice Lourd, had been left paralyzed and bedridden. I'd spent the past three years drowning in misery, surviving only with the help of medication.

Time and time again, he'd watched over me with concern and helped me induce vomiting after I'd taken one too many sleeping pills.

He'd comforted me by saying, "Don't be scared. It's okay. I'm here."

Now, it felt utterly absurd when I heard him say those exact same words to another woman.

I was about to march over and demand an explanation when Ellie shyly slipped a packet of condoms into the pocket of his white coat.

She said coquettishly, "To celebrate my winning an award today, I'll let you do me five times. I promise I won't ask you to stop."

Albert's Adam's apple bobbed as a flicker of lust appeared on his face.

On the eve of our wedding, Albert had shown me a diagnostic report stating that he suffered from chronic low sex drive and had little to no sexual desire.

He had warned, "Our sex life might be nonexistent. You should think carefully before making your decision."

We'd gone ahead with the wedding anyway. After we got married, I'd tried everything I could think of to please him, but nothing had ever worked.

In our eight years of marriage, our intimate moments had been few and far between. When things got particularly bad, he'd even kicked me out of our bedroom.

Amid the charged atmosphere between them, my phone slipped from my hand and hit the floor.

Albert turned toward me, and I saw the panicked look on his face. Nevertheless, he quickly regained his composure and instinctively shielded Ellie against me.

"I'll take you home first," he said to Ellie, brushing past my shoulder.

I had to brace myself against the wall just to keep from collapsing. My swollen belly suddenly throbbed with a sharp, sinking pain, as if my baby could sense my heartbreak.

On my phone was the message I'd sent him just moments earlier. It read, "I have a surprise for you! Aren't you excited?"

He still hadn't replied.

Unwilling to accept this, I called him again. All I wanted was a reasonable explanation.

He hung up immediately.

When I tried again, his phone was switched off.

I understood right away that it was over.

I called my lawyer instead and instructed, "Please draft a divorce agreement for me."