My Wife Caught Me With Her 18-Year-Old Self

A sharp, indescribable bitterness rose in my chest. My footsteps faltered, and I stayed frozen in the doorway.

A few minutes later, Selena emerged, supporting Preston as they walked out. I did a quick examination and confirmed his condition had indeed worsened. I directed Selena to help him into the ambulance I'd arranged on the way over.

Before we wheeled him into the operating room, Preston suddenly grabbed my hand. "Dr. Holt, you're the best surgeon in the state. Could you please perform my surgery?"

The medical staff nearby knew bits and pieces about my personal life. Seeing this situation unfold, one of them immediately stepped forward.

"Mr. Jones, Dr. Holt hasn't treated you before and isn't familiar with your case history. Perhaps another doctor should handle this. All of our orthopedic surgeons are highly qualified—"

But no matter how much they tried to persuade him, Preston clung stubbornly to my hand. "My injury is serious, and Lena is really worried about me. I don't trust anyone else. Please, Dr. Holt. Just this once."

He lifted his head toward Selena with a pitiful, pleading look. Selena hesitated, then turned to me. "Zacky, could you please?"

She probably didn't even realize she'd called me Zacky. Since things fell apart between us, I hadn't heard that name from her lips in two years. Now I was hearing it again, and only because of Preston.

I lowered my head, forcing myself to stay steady. "What if I said no?"

Selena fell silent for a moment. Then she reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper.

It was a wish coupon I'd written for her when we first started dating as teenagers. In still-clumsy handwriting, it read, "Use this wish coupon, and Zack Holt will unconditionally grant Selena Sloane any one request."

"What if I use this?"

No matter how badly we'd fought before, no matter how many arguments or divorce threats we'd thrown around, I'd never felt afraid—because I knew Selena had this coupon. She could use it as a get-out-of-jail-free card for our marriage, a way to keep us from truly falling apart.

But now, for Preston's sake, she was using up this final chance.

"Fine, Selena. Don't say I didn't warn you."

I snatched the paper from her hand and walked into the operating room without looking back, afraid I'd lose it if I stayed any longer.

Preston's condition was genuinely critical. The internal bone structure had shifted, and the wire from the previous fixation had gone off-course. After 16 straight hours in surgery, I managed to save his lower back and legs.

When I finally stepped out of the operating room, dizziness washed over me. I could barely walk straight. Passing by the break room, I overheard the nurses huddled together, whispering.

"Dr. Holt is so pathetic. He actually operated on his wife's boy toy. I can't believe he'd put up with that!"

"He probably can't bear to lose his wife's money. But after this, he'll definitely be replaced."

"I heard the guy hurt his back in his wife's bed, if you know what I mean."

I stopped walking. Through the glass window, I saw Selena sitting at Preston's bedside, laughing and chatting with him. They looked so intimate and harmonious, like a real married couple.

A sharp, piercing pain tore through my chest. Suddenly, everything went black, and I felt myself collapsing.

Startled cries erupted around me. Selena finally looked in my direction. But by the time she rushed toward me in panic, I'd already fallen into a familiar embrace.

In that moment, Selena froze in place, her face deathly pale.