ManyWriters

Thirty days into the silent treatment with my husband, he proposed a trip to mend our relationship. As soon as we landed, he snapped my ID card in half, smashed my phone, and abandoned me on a deserted island to fend for myself.
When someone asked if he was being too harsh, he was accompanying his childhood sweetheart to her prenatal checkup, sneering contemptuously:
"It's her own fault for being so petty. I was just using IVF to fulfill Faye's wish of becoming a mother, and she threw a fit demanding a divorce."
"The baby will be born in eight months. There's fresh water and food on that island, so she won't starve to death. I'm just teaching her a lesson."
Eight months later, holding his newborn son contentedly, my husband unusually asked his assistant:
"It's been so long, hasn't she made a fuss about coming back to the States yet?"
He didn't know that I had died on the very first day I arrived on that lonely island.

My Husband Banished Me to a Deserted Island

Because there was only one case of an artificial heart in the country, and that was Faye.


And people who had undergone artificial heart transplants had to take medication daily. If they didn't, they would quickly die of heart failure.


Clearly, in his memory, Faye had always acted well, taking her medicine on time to increase his guilt.


He frantically grabbed the doctor and demanded:


The doctor, confused, thought he was a patient wanting to try this technology, and immediately advised:


"Artificial heart surgery carries great risks. That patient donated her own heart to her husband and had an artificial heart implanted herself. But she hasn't come back for a check-up or medication in eight months. I'm afraid... Well, if you can wait, it's better to wait for another heart donor."


Caelan felt as if he'd been hit hard on the back of the head, his expression dazed.


Chapter 9