My Husband Chose to Save His Lover's Daughter

Hearing the other man’s candid response, Miguel sat up straighter. Taking a deep breath, he explained, “You don’t understand. At first, I thought about enduring it. After all, she’s invested quite a lot in the hospital where I work. But feelings aren’t something you can force. You’ve been divorced so you should get it.”

Miguel stared intently at the car logo on the steering wheel, his tone tinged with resentment as he continued, “Yes, she’s rich, but money isn’t everything. It can’t buy love.”

“I’ve had enough of her domineering attitude. She orders me around like a servant. I feel like I’m not her husband—I’m just a dog she keeps!”

My foot froze mid-air above the gas pedal.

But he wasn’t done. He grew more animated as he rambled, “Do you understand that feeling? I’m a man! A man!”

“Thankfully, I met someone. She reignited my passion, made me feel alive again, like a real, flesh-and-blood person. Her daughter is sick too, with the same illness as my daughter. But she doesn’t have the money...”

“And Sherry? She has more money than she could ever need. So I was thinking...”

The man beside him immediately caught on. “So, you want a divorce? And you’re planning to use your wife’s money to save your current lover’s daughter?”

I turned to the screen, staring at the footage in disbelief.

Miguel hesitated for two seconds, then nodded firmly. “Can you help me? I really think of you as a brother. Once I get the money, you’ll definitely get a share!”

“I’ll connect you with the lawyer who handled my divorce. Just say I recommended you. For now, I’ll head back, and we’ll keep in touch,” the man said.

The sound of the car door closing echoed, leaving the screen in silence for a long time.

My mind went blank. I couldn’t believe what I had just heard.

Miguel drove straight to the hospital. As the sports car was parked by the curb, a young girl in a hospital gown climbed in casually.

“Dr. Richardson, this car isn’t as comfortable as the old one,” she said, her soft, coquettish voice sending alarm bells ringing in my head.

This bastard—was he having an affair with a patient? And if she was in pediatrics, wasn’t she underage?

My hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, trembling with force.

Miguel reached out to affectionately ruffle her hair, speaking in a tone so gentle it made my skin crawl. “Chloe, be good. I won’t drive this car anymore, okay? Whichever car you like, I’ll drive that one instead.”

Before I could fully process the scene, the passenger door opened from the outside.

“Chloe, are you causing trouble for your godfather again? Did you take your meds on time today? You’ve got surgery coming up, so you can’t slack off.”

The voice was so saccharine it could drip honey.

Miguel immediately straightened up, pretending to adjust his hair. “No trouble at all. Chloe has been good. I just brought her out to relax a bit before the surgery.”

“Let’s go, Tricia. The restaurant’s already booked.” He smiled.

The young girl shifted to make room for the two of them, squeezing herself into a corner.

Tricia climbed into the passenger seat, settling in. Her golden curls glinted on the screen.

It was her.

I had met her once before at the hospital. At the time, Miguel mentioned that her daughter was battling the same illness as ours and was also on the waiting list for a kidney donor. I even felt a pang of sympathy for her situation and, as kindred souls facing similar struggles, assured her that if a donor kidney became available, I would cover the cost of her daughter’s surgery.

But now, from what Miguel had said, a donor was already secured. So why hadn’t he told me? Why wasn’t he saving our daughter?

The whole reason I invested in the hospital and helped him secure the director position was to ensure our daughter would be first in line for treatment.