Blood on His Hands, Vengeance in Mine
During a critical heart transplant, my doctor husband insisted his intern assist despite her garish nail art compromising the sterile field.
When I called her out, he abandoned the patient mid-surgery to comfort her.
I begged him to return, but he snapped, "Giselle is upset. Can't you wait? This is nothing compared to her feelings."
40 minutes later, the patient bled out and died.
Later, they discovered that he was our highly respected mayor and placed the blame on me.
"If it weren't for you causing a scene and kicking us out of the operating room, the mayor wouldn't have bled to death. This is all your fault!"
Defenseless, I was sentenced to life in prison, tortured, and died in agony.
My husband and his intern walked down the aisle, enjoying their happy life.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of that fateful surgery.