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I was an OB-GYN, but I nearly died on my own delivery table. I struggled with everything I had to give my husband, Jack Carter, a child, believing it would be the perfect proof of our seven-year marriage. Lying on my operating table, bleeding out, I was in a daze when I heard the nurse urgently shout, "Let her family sign the consent form, now!" But Jack was outside the delivery room, speaking softly on the phone. "Alright, don't be upset. I just transferred 150 grand to you. Buy whatever you like." That call was from his first love, Stella Moon, the one he'd never gotten over. When I was wheeled out of the delivery room, he was nervously staring at his phone, waiting for a reply from his first love. He didn't even spare me or the baby a glance.