ManyWriters

I got promoted and received a raise, becoming the head of a department at the hospital.
We've had quite a few patients lately, many of them married women.
They all share one thing in common: gynecological issues.
Until one day, I received an urgent phone call.
It turned out my husband's mistress was gravely ill and desperately needed my help to save her life.
Faced with this situation, I coldly refused.
Until the mistress died on the operating table.
The killer, shockingly, was my husband.

The Lover Dies on the Operating Table, the Killer is My Husband

I clutched my phone, contemplating whether to call and confront him, but ultimately decided to wait until he returned to discuss it.


Two weeks later, I found myself waiting for Soren on the balcony.


When he came home, I calmly presented the item.


"When did you buy this? Who is it for?"


Soren's expression darkened, and he remained silent.


After a long pause, he finally spoke, "Where did you find it?"


Disappointed, I said, "If you won't explain, we should sleep in separate rooms."


Soren, visibly exhausted, replied in a hoarse voice, "Vivienne, can't you just trust me?"


That night, as I lay in bed, I felt desolate and empty.


Tossing and turning, unable to sleep, I eventually got up to get some water from the living room.


Passing by the master bedroom, all was quiet inside.


I thought to myself, he must be asleep.


Just as I reached the study door, I noticed light coming from underneath.


Chapter 8