My Husband Faked a Heart Condition to Get Rid of Me

"The patient is dying! He said he was sorry to Ms. Vivienne and promised to treat her well in the next life..."

The assistant’s words cut through the air like a dagger. My parents-in-law screamed in anguish, releasing their grip on me as they stumbled into the operating room.

Moments later, they rushed back out, their faces pale and streaked with tears. Without hesitation, they collapsed to their knees before me.

"Vivienne, please!" my mother-in-law sobbed, her voice trembling. "Please give Leander the surgery. Dr. Drake said there’s still a chance to save him!"

She knelt closer, bowing her head to the floor as if her desperation could reach my heart. My father-in-law, hands shaking, grabbed a piece of paper and a pen from a nearby nurse. He hastily scrawled a property donation agreement, signed it, and thrust it toward me with his wife’s signature already scribbled below his own.

Tears welled in their eyes, the weight of their hope bearing down on me. For a moment, I faltered.

My parents-in-law had always been kind to me. I remember the summer when Leander first took me to his hometown. They’d killed their only egg-laying hen to prepare chicken soup for me, a stranger they treated like family.

They had held my hands warmly and said, "We’ve always wanted a daughter. Since we didn’t have one, we’ll treat you as ours."

After I married Leander, their generosity never wavered. Every month, they drove miles to deliver fresh vegetables they’d grown themselves—free from pesticides, full of care.

Even as our lives improved and Leander and I moved to the city, they refused to leave their modest home for fear of disturbing us. When I told them I wasn’t ready for children, they didn’t pressure me, even though I knew they longed for grandchildren.

For years, I thought I had been blessed beyond measure to have a husband and family like this.

Until I uncovered the truth about Leander. Until everything I believed shattered.

The weight of those memories pressed on my chest, my heart tightening as conflicting emotions threatened to overwhelm me.

Evangeline’s sharp voice snapped me out of my thoughts. His glare was cold, his words biting.

"Vivienne! You’re despicable! Even now, with Leander’s life hanging by a thread, all you can think about is the Hayes Family’s property?"

His voice rose with fury.

"Your husband is dying! Do you even have a shred of humanity left? You’re heartless!"

My parents-in-law noticed my unsettling demeanor and quickly pulled Evangeline aside, their voices trembling with urgency.

"Dr. Drake, please don’t provoke her! If she has another episode, Leander will truly have no hope!"

Evangeline took a deep breath, composing herself. When she turned back to me, her expression was cold, her tone sharp and resolute.

"Vivienne, fine! If you refuse to save him, I will. It’s just a heart rupture operation—I’ll do it myself!" Her voice was firm, almost defiant. "I don’t believe for one second that no one else is capable except you!"

Her determination struck a chord with the onlookers. Murmurs of approval rippled through the crowd.

"That’s the true spirit of an angel in white, saving lives without hesitation!" one said.

"Vivienne is trash. What kind of doctor abandons their ethics like this?" another spat, their disdain palpable.

"If Leander survives, Dr. Drake deserves every reward! She’s the real hero here!"

Without sparing me another glance, Evangeline stormed into the operating room, her urgency palpable. I simply sank back into my chair, watching the scene unfold with cold indifference.

The drama playing out before me was almost comical. Their performances were so convincing they might as well have been auditioning for an Oscar.

My parents-in-law, now despondent, slumped into chairs nearby, their hands wringing with anxiety as they waited for the operation’s outcome.

I smirked inwardly, my thoughts laced with bitter amusement.

Let’s see what act they’ll put on next.

Perhaps exhaustion finally claimed me, because I dozed off in the chair. When I woke up, the corridor was quieter, the tension in the air somewhat subdued.

I spotted Ronan, the assistant from the operating room, walking toward me in plain clothes, having shed his protective suit. Rising from my seat, I intercepted him.

"Is Leander saved?" I asked, my voice even but laced with curiosity.