he Day He Chose Her Over Our Dying Son, I Chose Vengeance - Chapter 17: Chapter 17
You are reading he Day He Chose Her Over Our Dying Son, I Chose Vengeance, Chapter 17: Chapter 17. Read more chapters of he Day He Chose Her Over Our Dying Son, I Chose Vengeance.
As Ryan hurried down the corridor, I stepped aside to avoid him.
His rain-soaked, disheveled appearance barely registered in my peripheral vision, and my heart remained unmoved.
Stepping outside the hospital doors, the early spring breeze carried the scent of flowers to my face.
I took a deep breath but suddenly realized I had nowhere to go.
For twelve years, my life had revolved entirely around Ryan.
I knew his surgery schedule better than my own menstrual cycle. I constantly monitored his moods but had completely forgotten myself in the process.
At a corner stood a cat café. On impulse, I pushed open the door and was immediately surrounded by a warm wave of furry creatures.
A calico cat jumped onto my lap, its soft paws pressing against the back of my hand.
Years of suppressed grief suddenly burst forth.
Hiding in a corner, I opened my phone's photo gallery.
It was filled with Ryan's surgical cases, academic conferences, and dietary restrictions.
Only at the very bottom did I find a single photo of myself—taken only to show him my new hairstyle.
For him, I had truly forgotten myself.
I rallied my strength and opened a café dedicated to rescuing stray cats.
When the doorbell chimed one day, I looked up while holding a domestic shorthair, but my smile instantly froze.
Ryan stood at the entrance with several workers behind him, carrying elegant pet carriers.
Ragdolls, golden British shorthairs, Sphynx cats... even two Bengal leopard cats.
Ryan stood awkwardly to the side, his face wearing a conciliatory smile.
"Lina, these cats are for you. Will you come home with me now?"
I signaled my staff to attend to customers and politely led him to a corner. "Mr. Winters, we only take in stray cats here. This is my home—and theirs."
Ryan eagerly pulled out a stack of pedigree certificates.
"They can be your flagship cats! You could make more money! Look at this championship-level—"
I shook my head, cutting him off.
"We just rescued an abandoned litter of kittens. We don't have the space or time to play house with you."
Ryan clutched my hand tightly, his voice breaking:
"Lina, I truly recognize my mistakes. Without your guidance, I nearly botched a surgery the day before yesterday."
"My hand trembled during masseter muscle dissection and I severed the facial artery. Blood sprayed everywhere, and the client now has facial nerve paralysis..."
"I've been suspended temporarily. I'm the hospital's star surgeon—if this continues, that bitch Miranda will surpass me!"
I yanked my hand away, laughing coldly.
This wasn't an apology.
He was merely complaining that no one was there to clean up his messes.
I called over an employee to escort him out, my tone distant:
"Mr. Winters, you don't need a wife—you need a caretaker available 24/7, 365 days a year."
Ryan tried to speak, but I had already turned away.
For thirty consecutive days, Ryan appeared punctually at the café door before opening time.
One day, he childishly set down an incubator at the entrance and ran off.
When I rushed outside, I only caught a glimpse of his retreating back.
With no alternative, I kept over a dozen cats at the café.
But the next day, he showed up as a self-appointed staff member.
Once, he had looked down on service industry work.
I watched coldly as he clumsily poured coffee for customers, his expensive suit jacket covered in cat hair, without even a hint of annoyance.
As the sunset painted the sky and the last customer left, Ryan blocked my path.
His tone was conciliatory as he tried to coax me.
"Lina, I've submitted a proposal to the hospital board. If you come back, you can be the lead surgeon, not just my assistant. Your salary will double. Surely that's enough to appease you?"
Even now, Ryan still believed I had left because of such trivial matters.
Meeting my meaningful gaze, Ryan urgently grabbed my wrist, his eyes gleaming with determination.
"Fine—triple your salary, and you can set your own surgery schedule! As for Claire..."
He gritted his teeth. "Once the baby is born, I'll never see her again."
I nodded slightly, my lips curving into an approving smile.
He immediately displayed a victorious grin, reaching to encircle my waist.
I stepped back, laughing coldly.
"Ryan, I own the entire medical group. Do you really think these pathetic crumbs would interest me?"
His rain-soaked, disheveled appearance barely registered in my peripheral vision, and my heart remained unmoved.
Stepping outside the hospital doors, the early spring breeze carried the scent of flowers to my face.
I took a deep breath but suddenly realized I had nowhere to go.
For twelve years, my life had revolved entirely around Ryan.
I knew his surgery schedule better than my own menstrual cycle. I constantly monitored his moods but had completely forgotten myself in the process.
At a corner stood a cat café. On impulse, I pushed open the door and was immediately surrounded by a warm wave of furry creatures.
A calico cat jumped onto my lap, its soft paws pressing against the back of my hand.
Years of suppressed grief suddenly burst forth.
Hiding in a corner, I opened my phone's photo gallery.
It was filled with Ryan's surgical cases, academic conferences, and dietary restrictions.
Only at the very bottom did I find a single photo of myself—taken only to show him my new hairstyle.
For him, I had truly forgotten myself.
I rallied my strength and opened a café dedicated to rescuing stray cats.
When the doorbell chimed one day, I looked up while holding a domestic shorthair, but my smile instantly froze.
Ryan stood at the entrance with several workers behind him, carrying elegant pet carriers.
Ragdolls, golden British shorthairs, Sphynx cats... even two Bengal leopard cats.
Ryan stood awkwardly to the side, his face wearing a conciliatory smile.
"Lina, these cats are for you. Will you come home with me now?"
I signaled my staff to attend to customers and politely led him to a corner. "Mr. Winters, we only take in stray cats here. This is my home—and theirs."
Ryan eagerly pulled out a stack of pedigree certificates.
"They can be your flagship cats! You could make more money! Look at this championship-level—"
I shook my head, cutting him off.
"We just rescued an abandoned litter of kittens. We don't have the space or time to play house with you."
Ryan clutched my hand tightly, his voice breaking:
"Lina, I truly recognize my mistakes. Without your guidance, I nearly botched a surgery the day before yesterday."
"My hand trembled during masseter muscle dissection and I severed the facial artery. Blood sprayed everywhere, and the client now has facial nerve paralysis..."
"I've been suspended temporarily. I'm the hospital's star surgeon—if this continues, that bitch Miranda will surpass me!"
I yanked my hand away, laughing coldly.
This wasn't an apology.
He was merely complaining that no one was there to clean up his messes.
I called over an employee to escort him out, my tone distant:
"Mr. Winters, you don't need a wife—you need a caretaker available 24/7, 365 days a year."
Ryan tried to speak, but I had already turned away.
For thirty consecutive days, Ryan appeared punctually at the café door before opening time.
One day, he childishly set down an incubator at the entrance and ran off.
When I rushed outside, I only caught a glimpse of his retreating back.
With no alternative, I kept over a dozen cats at the café.
But the next day, he showed up as a self-appointed staff member.
Once, he had looked down on service industry work.
I watched coldly as he clumsily poured coffee for customers, his expensive suit jacket covered in cat hair, without even a hint of annoyance.
As the sunset painted the sky and the last customer left, Ryan blocked my path.
His tone was conciliatory as he tried to coax me.
"Lina, I've submitted a proposal to the hospital board. If you come back, you can be the lead surgeon, not just my assistant. Your salary will double. Surely that's enough to appease you?"
Even now, Ryan still believed I had left because of such trivial matters.
Meeting my meaningful gaze, Ryan urgently grabbed my wrist, his eyes gleaming with determination.
"Fine—triple your salary, and you can set your own surgery schedule! As for Claire..."
He gritted his teeth. "Once the baby is born, I'll never see her again."
I nodded slightly, my lips curving into an approving smile.
He immediately displayed a victorious grin, reaching to encircle my waist.
I stepped back, laughing coldly.
"Ryan, I own the entire medical group. Do you really think these pathetic crumbs would interest me?"
End of he Day He Chose Her Over Our Dying Son, I Chose Vengeance Chapter 17. Continue reading Chapter 18 or return to he Day He Chose Her Over Our Dying Son, I Chose Vengeance book page.