My Marriage Died in the Operating Room1
On the day Bryson Lundeberg and I were supposed to celebrate our anniversary, my mother went into surgery.
I thought everything was under control. But I never imagined that a procedure with a ninety percent success rate would fail.
That left mom comatose.
At first, I wanted to call it an accident. But when I came home late that night, I overheard the truth.
“Bryson, what you did for me… I’m really grateful. If it weren’t for you, I might already be in jail. But I swear I never meant for Hedy’s mom to be in danger…” Debbii Parmelee murmured.
Her voice sounded a little flirty, her body leaning against Bryson.
Without any restraint, he pulled her into his arms.
“What happened was not your fault, to begin with. You had good intentions in giving Hedy’s mom that medicine. She ran into trouble in surgery because her body couldn’t hold up. It’s not on you, okay?” he replied, patting her head to soothe her.
I froze in place, listening as they bantered about my mom like it was entertainment.
Only after hearing everything did I understand why my mom had fallen into a coma.
Debbii had given my mom a large dose of experimental, unapproved drugs before the surgery—that drug sabotaged the surgery!
Worse, Bryson had known it all along!
I wiped away my tears, pulled out the divorce agreement we’d signed before the wedding, and took out my phone.
“Take back all assets and funding we’ve granted Lundeberg Corporation. At the upcoming project bid next week, disqualify them. Use my shares in their company; make sure their stock falls!” I ordered.
“In seven days,” I swore, “Bryson won’t have anything left!”
1
Hedy’s POV
I made up my mind. I handed the evidence over to my brother, choosing instead to stay behind at the hospital to take care of Mom.
What I hadn’t expected was that, later that very night, I would lose all contact with him.
Just as my panic reached its peak, Bryson appeared before me—dressed impeccably in a tailored suit, radiating an untouchable air of superiority.
“The evidence your brother submitted to the cops,” he began coldly, “I’ve already suppressed it. Now, you will write a letter of forgiveness. State that Debbii never intended harm, that you understand her.”
As he spoke, he placed my mom’s hospital bill right in front of me.
“If the machines are removed, your mom won’t last long, Hedy. Think carefully about your next move.”