All Chapters of TOO LATE TO REGRET, EX-HUSBAND: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Vivian stared at the elderly man standing before her. Rain began to fall softly, misting over the pavement, but neither of them moved."You know me?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.The old man gave a solemn nod. "My name is Arthur Sinclair." He reached into his coat and handed her an embossed business card.Vivian took it, her eyes widening as she read the gold lettering. Arthur Sinclair. Founder of the Sinclair Medical Foundation.He was one of the most respected philanthropists and medical patrons in the country. She had studied case files funded by his foundation during her surgical residency. But why was a man of his stature standing in the rain, looking for her?Arthur’s voice trembled slightly with suppressed emotion. "My eight-year-old granddaughter, Emma, was diagnosed with a rare, life-threatening congenital heart defect. We have flown her to top surgical institutes in America, Germany, and Japan... Every specialist came to the exact same conclusion."Vivian rem

The conference room fell silent. Five senior surgeons stared at Vivian as the oldest among them slowly adjusted his glasses."You really are Benjamin Carter's daughter," he said softly, extending his hand. "I haven't seen you since you were a little girl. I'm Dr. Samuel Brooks.""My father spoke of you often," Vivian replied as they shook hands."The last time I spoke with Benjamin, he was furious," Dr. Brooks sighed, his expression turning somber. "He wasn't angry because you became his wife, Vivian. He was angry because you stopped becoming the doctor you were born to be."Vivian swallowed the lump in her throat. For three years, she had avoided her father, never realizing how deeply her surrender had broken his heart.President Daniel Morris opened a heavy folder, breaking the tension. "The clinical evaluation consists of three stages: theory, diagnosis, and simulated surgery. Fail one, and the evaluation ends immediately. You have twenty minutes for the case files."Vivian opened

The marble corridor of St. Matthew Medical Center echoed with frantic footsteps as Adrian Kingsley’s executive assistant struggled to keep pace."Sir, the board is convening an emergency session!" the assistant pleaded, pale under the harsh lights. "The Sinclair Foundation’s press release is trending globally–Kingsley Holdings Stripped of $40M Healthcare Endowment After CEO's Sudden Divorce. Stock values dropped seven percent in fifteen minutes!"Adrian didn't answer or slow his stride. His eyes were fixed on the surgical wing doors where Vivian Carter had just vanished alongside Dr. Michael Hayes.He could still hear her cool, detached voice: “You're in my hospital wing, Mr. Kingsley. Visitors aren't allowed in the surgical zone. Please leave.”It was a tone he had never heard in three years of marriage. In his grand villa, Vivian had been a quiet shadow–folding his shirts, steeping his tea, and waiting up until midnight. He had grown so accustomed to her presence that she had become

The morning sun broke through the glass facade of St. Matthew Medical Center, painting the polished floors in shades of amber. Outside, a light drizzle fell over the city, turning the pavement slick and gray. Inside the main lobby, the usual morning rush was underway–nurses carrying clipboard stacks, families grabbing coffee at the cafeteria counter, and doctors exchanging quiet greetings.On the fourth floor, the atmosphere was entirely different.Vivian stood at the scrub sink outside Operating Room 1. The steady hum of running water filled the small stainless-steel room. She was wearing her blue surgical scrubs, her hair pinned back tightly under a dark blue surgical cap. She stared at her hands as the warm water ran over her wrists, counting down the seconds in her mind.Six minutes until scrub-in.The wooden door behind her clicked open. Dr. Michael Hayes stepped inside, his own surgical mask hanging around his neck. He adjusted his watch, looking at her with a calm, reassuring s

The room felt entirely too quiet after the storm of the morning.Vivian sat at her small desk in the doctors' breakroom, holding a paper cup of lukewarm green tea. Her shoulders throbbed with an intense, deep ache. The adrenaline that had carried her through Emma Sinclair’s emergency surgery was fading fast, leaving behind a bone-deep exhaustion.On the desk beside her lay a small brown paper bag. Inside was a fresh ham sandwich and a bottle of orange juice.Michael had brought it for her ten minutes ago, placing it gently on the table before pulling up a chair opposite her."You need to eat, Vivian," Michael said gently, his gray eyes full of quiet concern. He was still wearing his blue surgical scrubs, his hair slightly damp from a quick shower. "Your blood sugar is probably rock-bottom right now."Vivian looked up, offering him a faint, grateful smile. "I will. Thank you, Michael. For everything today. For standing up to Adrian in the hallway."Michael leaned back in his chair, fol