Our Anniversary, His Big Betrayal
"Pregnant patient, corpus luteum rupture, heavy bleeding! We need a consent form signed—now!"
I stood there holding the clipboard, waiting, when a voice I knew way too well cut through the chaos.
"I'm here!"
Jimmy.
My husband. The same guy who vanished on our anniversary—now signing off on emergency surgery for another woman.
He didn't even blink before writing "husband" on the form. Still had our wedding ring on, too.
He didn't recognize me behind the mask. Just grabbed my hand and begged.
"Please save her. It's my fault. She's pregnant. I messed up. I love her. I can't lose her."
His grip tightened. My wedding ring slipped off and hit the floor.
I didn't say a word. Just turned and walked into the OR.
A doctor beside me, totally clueless, beamed and said,
"Dr. Meyer, your test results came back—twins! Your husband's gonna be so happy. Congrats!"
I smiled, barely.
"Schedule the termination after surgery."