Chapter 5

Margaret didn't waste any time. In less than twenty-four hours, the legal documents were ready.

Jonathan's legal team showed up at my office, carrying a stack of documents.

Margaret sat across from me, her expression still sour, but she didn't say a single unnecessary word.

I flipped through every page, making sure to read every clause.

After double-checking everything, I signed my name at the end.

Claire Evans.

I pressed the pen down hard.

From the moment the ink dried, I was no longer Mrs. Grant. I was just Claire Evans.

The lawyer organized my copy of the paperwork and handed it over respectfully. "Dr. Evans, all formalities are complete and effective immediately."

Hearing him use my professional title made it feel like a lifetime had passed. I put the documents away and stood up.

"The surgery is scheduled for nine tomorrow morning," I told Margaret. "He needs to be NPO, no food or water for eight hours prior.

"Also, I don't want any irrelevant people lingering outside the OR."

I let my gaze drift pointedly toward the VIP ward.

Sophie had practically been living there these past few days.

Margaret nodded. "I'll handle it."

With that, she left with her legal team.

Silence returned to my office.

Looking at the divorce settlement, I felt like I was waking up from a three-year nightmare.

*****

Early the next morning, I arrived at the hospital an hour ahead of schedule. I changed into my scrubs and walked into the surgical prep room.

After changing into my scrubs, I walked into the lead surgeon's prep room.

William Adams, my mentor, and a few other department heads were already waiting.

They looked at me with complicated expressions.

William let out a heavy sigh.

"Claire, are you absolutely sure about this?" he asked. "The risks involved in this procedure..."

"Dr. Adams, I'm not standing here as his wife," I cut him off. "I am a doctor. My only job is to save a life."

My absolute calm silenced the room. We began our final pre-op briefing.

Jonathan's brain scan was projected onto the big screen.

The lethal piece of shrapnel was clearly visible.

Its position was far more dangerous than it had been three years ago.

It was resting right against a vital nerve plexus.

One wrong move, and he could end up in a vegetative state, assuming he survived at all.

The atmosphere in the conference room was heavy.

Holding a laser pointer, I gestured at the imaging and broke down the surgical plan.

"We'll do a craniotomy through the left temporal bone," I explained. "We bypass the main nerve plexus and use microneurosurgical techniques to gradually detach the tissue.

"This requires absolute precision. The margin of error is less than zero point one millimeters."

Everyone in the room was a top expert, and they instantly understood just how difficult this surgery would be.

This was microscopic sculpting inside a brain where a man's life hung by a thread.

Once the briefing ended, I walked out to scrub in.

At the corner of the hallway, I ran into Sophie.

She wore a pristine white Chanel suit, her makeup flawless.

But she couldn't hide the exhaustion and sheer venom in her eyes.

She blocked my path.

"Don't look so smug, Claire," she gritted out, keeping her voice dangerously low. "Think you've won? Even if you save his life, I will always be the one he loves.

"When he wakes up, he's only going to hate you more for taking advantage of him while he was dying."

I looked at her like she was a clown performing a cheap trick.

I couldn't even be bothered to argue. I just stared calmly into her eyes.

"Miss Lane," I said, my voice cool and steady. "First, as the lead surgeon, I am ordering you to step away from the surgical area immediately. Your emotional outbursts are a distraction.

"Second, you are absolutely right. Who he loves or hates is none of my business anymore. We are officially divorced.

"Now move aside. Your man is waiting for me to save his life."

Sophie's face went completely pale.

She definitely didn't see me being this ruthless coming.

She stumbled back a step, staring at me in utter disbelief.

I didn't spare her another glance and walked straight toward the operating room.

Behind me, I heard her break into uncontrollable sobs.

So annoying.

I pushed open the heavy double doors.

Inside lay my battlefield. A battlefield meant for one.