Doctor's Marriage Crisis

In the middle of the night, the emergency room received a pregnant woman critically injured in a car accident.

When it was time for the family to sign the consent form, I discovered that the child in her womb belonged to my husband.

Yet, as a doctor, I didn't even have the right to refuse treatment to the mistress.

Pushing aside my personal feelings, I saved her life. But the child was gone forever.

She caused a scene at the hospital, accusing me of killing her baby.

......

At two in the morning, having just completed a cesarean section, I barely had time to catch my breath before being urgently called to the night emergency room to assist with a pregnant woman brought in from a car accident.

The woman, suffering from massive bleeding, was wheeled in, followed by a frantic man with blood-stained hands.

He clutched her hand tightly, his face a mix of panic and reassurance, saying, "It will be alright, I'm here. Rina, it's going to be okay, I'm with you, I'll always be with you!"

For a moment, I was dazed, wondering if I was hallucinating from exhaustion.

How could it be my husband, Rory Brown?

"A couple was in a car accident. The man only has superficial injuries, but the woman is five months pregnant, experiencing heavy bleeding, and suspected of miscarriage!"

The paramedic briefly described the patient's condition, snapping me back to reality.

A couple?

"Doctor, please save my wife!"

Rory looked up at me in a panic, shouting.

Our eyes met, and I saw shock and confusion in his eyes. He quickly withdrew his hand from the pregnant woman's grasp, standing there dumbfounded.

Even with my mask on, after ten years of marriage, he couldn't recognize me at his first glance.

The pregnant woman was waving her hands, repeatedly crying out, "Honey, my belly hurts, it hurts so much!"

"Our baby... please, please save our baby... "

My head buzzed, her cries of "honey" pounding against my fragile nerves like a heavy hammer.

But as an emergency doctor, I wasn't allowed even a moment to catch my breath.

"Doctor Hayes... hurry, the patient is losing too much blood and is at risk of shock... "

The assistant and nurses urged, and I had no choice but to follow them into the operating room.

As the assistant surgeon prepared for surgery, I took a couple of deep breaths to control my chaotic emotions.

The pregnant woman continued to cry, insisting her husband accompany her, fearing otherwise.

The nurse did her best to calm her down.

No one noticed my uncontrollable tears.

Honestly, in a hospital, you encountered all sorts of absurd situations.

But when it happened to you, it was deeply painful.

Pain, anger, confusion-all mixed together.

Rory and I had been married for ten years, always having a good relationship, even considered the couple everyone admired.

I never doubted his loyalty.

But the facts were right in front of me, leaving me no choice but to believe.

"Jack, is Doctor Wells available? Have him take over; I'm not feeling well right now!"

The nurse shook her head, "Doctor Wells has three deliveries to attend to; he probably can't come!"

Tonight, it was just me and Doctor Wells on duty, and calling someone else now would be too late.

Hippocratic oath wouldn't allow me to let someone die.

Even if she was the one who destroyed my marriage.

Taking a deep breath, I swallowed my tears, continually convincing myself to treat her as just another patient.

I just did what I had to do.

Quickly calming down, I endured the immense pain and nausea, throwing myself into the rescue work.

But before she arrived at the hospital, she had already lost a lot of blood, and the child in her womb was likely unsalvageable.

The fetus was only five months old, and at this point, the mother's life took precedence.

After the surgery, the pregnant woman was mostly out of danger, but I was exhausted to the point of collapse.

I didn't know how I managed to hold on, but clearly, I had successfully completed my mission.

I upheld my duty as a doctor.

Exiting the operating room, I saw Rory sitting in the hallway. Yet, I had lost the strength to question him.

Exhaustion eclipsed both anger and pain, and gazing upon him was akin to beholding a complete stranger.

His head was bandaged, unshaven, and he looked nothing like his usual gentle and refined self.

Before I could speak, he reached out pitifully, wanting to hug me.

I sidestepped to avoid him.

"Honey, don't be like this, I can explain!"

His expression and tone were full of grievance, as if my avoidance had hurt him.

I looked at him, almost wanting to laugh, and asked, "How do you plan to explain?"