ManyWriters

My husband is a perfectionist. To cater to his aesthetic preferences, I've undergone plastic surgery, breast augmentation, and leg lengthening surgery.
By the time my husband complained about my lack of a high forehead, I had already had 19 plastic surgeries.
For my 20th plastic surgery, I went in for forehead augmentation.
After the surgery, I overheard his conversation with the doctor.
"CEO, Miss Winters has already had 20 surgeries. Every part of her body has been altered. Any more surgeries could be life-threatening!"
"But she still doesn't compare to Melody. Natural beauty is still the best."
My husband's cold words extinguished my romantic fantasies.
It turns out it wasn't that I wasn't beautiful enough, but that I didn't look like his true love.
For my 21st surgery, I had all the implants removed.
I changed my name and started my life over.

My Husband Made Me Get Plastic Surgery 19 Times

I saw his flustered and hesitant expression, so I took the initiative to speak.


"Your Miss Melody needs you for something. You should go."


Upon hearing this, he looked up at me in surprise several times, unable to believe how calm I was.


After all, in the past, I would have thrown a fit and begged him not to leave whenever I heard that ringtone.


The phone kept ringing; the person on the other end seemed to have an urgent matter.


Dashiell glanced back at me, and seeing that I truly wasn't going to stop him, he left the hospital room.


I reached up and pressed the call button by the bed.


"I want the doctor to schedule surgery to remove the implants in my face."


The doctors called an emergency meeting, and I was wheeled back into the operating room.


By the time the surgery was finished, it was dark outside. My face was wrapped in layer upon layer of bandages.


To be honest, I don't understand how Dashiell and I ended up like this.


A fortune teller once said I'd face a brush with death at twenty, but on that day, Dashiell appeared and saved me.


He gave me a full liter of blood and pulled every string to find the best doctors to operate on me, bringing me back from the brink of death.


So after we got married, whenever he said something about me wasn't attractive, I went along with it and got plastic surgery.I thought he was a perfectionist, I thought he was obsessed with looks, demanding strict standards for appearance.


Little did I know, he was just using me to piece together his pure love.


A sudden roar of anger interrupted my reminiscence.


"Aria, no wonder you didn't stop me, you knew Melody would get hurt, didn't you!"


Before I could process what was happening, Dashiell had already charged at me, his eyes blazing with fury that could've reduced me to ashes.


"You actually arranged for someone to crash into Melody! How could you be so heartless!"


"No, I've been performing surgery here all day."


Dashiell hesitated for a moment, but his face was still full of anger and contempt.


"Stop pretending, Melody called out your name before she lost consciousness. If you're innocent, then donate blood for her!"


Anger and resentment surged within me, and I agreed almost instantly after he finished speaking.


Dashiell seemed surprised by my reaction, he thought I would be nervous or make excuses.


"Let's go then, where do I donate blood? I'll go right now."


I got up, put on my shoes and coat, and walked out of the hospital room.Seeing that I was truly going to donate blood, Dashiell hesitated as he followed behind me.


"Could it really not have been you who did it?"


Five years of marriage, seven years of knowing each other, and in his heart, am I really such a vicious woman?


I gently pulled at the corners of my mouth, my tone sarcastic.


"Yeah, I did it all. After all, in your heart, I'm just a vicious woman. Every bad thing is something I've done."


Seeing that I was genuinely angry, Dashiell gently took my hand, his tone softening.


Chapter 2