Chapter 3
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An urgent voice came from somewhere above me:
"Dr. Sinclair, your wife collapsed and fell down the stairs. You need to come back now!"
Spencer's heavy breathing came through the phone, laced with unmistakable irritation:
"I'm a plastic surgeon, not an ER doctor!"
"If she fell, call an ambulance! I'm in the middle of something important!"
A bitter smile twisted my lips. This marriage was truly over.
When I fully awoke, I found myself in a hospital bed with only a nurse nearby.
No Spencer. Not even a text message.
In the past, he'd rush me to the ER for a paper cut, hovering anxiously until I was cleared.
He used to say he couldn't risk even a one-in-a-million chance of losing me.
But now, with my head split open and consciousness lost, all he could say was "call an ambulance."
The "important matter" keeping him busy? Screwing Charlotte Lane in her nurse costume.
Through Spencer's social accounts, I tracked down Charlotte's private profile.
She'd recently posted a video that left little to the imagination—a man shown only from behind, clutching a torn nurse uniform.
The woman, face visible but body hidden, wore that same veil, her manicured fingers digging into the man's neck.
After ten years of marriage, I could recognize Spencer's silhouette in my sleep.
Even from behind, there was no doubt it was him.
They'd altered the audio, but the man's husky voice was unmistakable:
"Only you make me lose control like this. God, I wish I could keep you in this bed forever."
She let out a sultry laugh:
"I'd spend my whole life in this bed with you. But what would your precious wife say?"
The video cut off there, leaving Spencer's response to the imagination.
But I didn't need to hear his answer. I was getting a divorce. Period.
Before calling my lawyer, I did one thing: I shared that damning video in all of Charlotte's fan groups.
Her eagle-eyed fans instantly recognized her, and speculation about the mystery man spread like wildfire.
Barely a minute after posting, my phone lit up with Spencer's name.
He was practically screaming:
"Tina, take that fucking video down now! Do you have any idea what you're doing to Charlotte?"
"You have ten seconds to delete it, or I swear to God I'll divorce you!"
He knew divorce threats were his nuclear option.
He'd used it once before during our worst fight, forcing me to back down.
After that, we'd promised never to use divorce as a weapon against each other.
But here he was, breaking that promise to protect Charlotte Lane.
I bit my lip until I tasted blood.
"Then divorce me, Spencer! But I'm not deleting a damn thing!"
"She's screwing a married man. This is exactly what she deserves!"
"And trust me, your punishment is just getting started!"
