Chapter 7

"It won't damage your professional reputation too much. Once this blows over, the credit for the project will still be yours."

She spoke with remarkable composure, as if she were offering me a dignified way out.

But the one who truly walked away with dignity was never me.

I didn't even look at the draft. I just kept my eyes fixed on Andrew. "Do you think it was me?"

The moment those words left my mouth, the conference room grew even quieter.

Everyone waited for his answer.

Andrew looked at me, his eyes darkening.

He didn't say yes. He didn't say no, either. That was the cruelest part.

After a few seconds, he spoke. "Vivian. Now isn't the time to argue over this. Just take one for the team for now. Once this blows over, I'll make it up to you."

There it was. Always the same line.

Three years ago, on the day we registered our marriage, he told me to hold out for a bit and that we'd have a wedding later. Later never came.

During the financing round, he told me to bear with it for now and that we'd announce our marriage once the company stabilized.

The company stabilized, but he never brought it up again.

Yesterday, my place setting was taken away at the family dinner.

The day before, I was asked to step aside during the meeting.

Last night, when his condition flared up, I was the first person he called.

Yet the moment he cleared his head, someone else was the first person he protected.

Now, with the entire company, the board, the media, and his family watching, he knew something was off. But he still chose the path of least resistance.

He wanted me to step back. He wanted me to take the blame. He wanted me to just deal with it again.

Suddenly, I had no desire to keep asking.

I didn't even care enough to be angry anymore.

It was as if a string that had been pulled taut for years had finally snapped completely.

I looked down and folded the report neatly into quarters before placing it back on the table. "Andrew, you've promised to make things up to me so many times.

"But every time you pay me back, it's just a down payment on the next thing you owe me."

A muscle in his brow twitched, as if he finally realized something was terribly wrong. "Vivian—"

I stood up. "I'm not signing this statement. If you want to suppress the backlash, do it yourself."

Someone on the board immediately scowled, and Victoria slammed her hand on the table. "What is that supposed to mean? The company is facing a crisis, and you're throwing a tantrum?"

I didn't even glance at her. I just kept looking at Andrew.

He stood up as well, lowering his voice. "Vivian, don't make a scene."

I nodded. "Don't worry. It won't get any bigger than this."

I turned and walked out. Behind me, voices called my name, hands slammed against the table, and someone muttered that I had lost my mind.

I didn't look back once.

When the elevator reached the first floor, my phone buzzed.When the elevator reached the first floor, my phone buzzed.

It was a final confirmation notice from the hospital's memory clinic:

[Dr. Lane, your final pre-surgery signature window closes today at 17:30.]

I checked the time. 4:08 PM. Plenty of time.

I didn't head back to my office, nor did I return to the company to offer any explanations. Instead, I drove straight back to the hospital.

I hung my white coat back in the locker and scanned my ID badge to enter the pre-op archives.

When Emily saw me, she blinked in surprise. "Dr. Lane, are you signing now?"

"Now," I said.