He Broke My Hand, Then Begged Me to Save His Mother

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I had just finished my last specialist consultation of the day when a pregnant woman barged in.

My medical assistant reminded her she needed to check in at the front desk. She rolled her eyes.

Check in, my ass! I'm carrying the CEO of Farley Group's baby. That's all the appointment I need!

But the CEO of Farley Group, Malcolm Farley, was my husband. Seven years married. Devoted, or so I'd believed.

She must have noticed my face drain of color, because her lips curled and she tugged her collar low, eyes brimming with triumph and provocation.

Malcolm is insatiable, honestly. I'm already pregnant and he still can't keep his hands off me. Hickeys all over, and I've been running a low fever from all the excitement. Hurry up and examine me, would you?

I stared at her for a long time. Then I spoke. Let's start with a blood test.

The woman gave me an unreadable smile.

A blood test? You want to check the sex, don't you. You're even more desperate than I am to know whether this baby will be the Farley heir. Isn't that right, Mrs. Farley? Seven years and you couldn't produce a single child.

I shook my head, expression ice.

A low-grade fever, paired with a rash that no amount of hickeys could disguise.

All I wanted to confirm was whether she had HIV.

Fever? Looks more like you're in heat.

A patient's family member who knew me happened to be passing by and couldn't hold back.

You're pregnant, so I wasn't going to say anything, but that delusion of yours needs medical attention too! Everyone knows how much Mr. Farley adores Dr. Thomas.

I've only had a handful of appointments here, and every single time there's been a fresh bouquet of rare flowers flown in by Mr. Farley's people. A different arrangement every day, just to keep Dr. Thomas smiling.

When Dr. Thomas had a stomachache, he canceled a hundred-million-dollar deal to bring her soup himself and give her a massage.

Even Mrs. Farley says Amanda Thomas is the only daughter-in-law she'll ever accept. You should salvage what's left of your dignity and stop making things up!

Those words steadied the panic spiraling through my chest.

I should trust Malcolm.

Making things up?!

The pregnant woman, Vivian Chambers, looked like her face might twist clean off.

Open your damn eyes and wait. I'll bring him here myself!

She pulled up a chat and sent a voice message. Malcolm, baby, I'm at the hospital. Come quick, okay?

A reply pinged back instantly. Vivian lifted her chin. Mr. Farley says he's on his way!

The commotion had drawn a crowd of onlookers in the hallway.

I didn't leave either, though I was only waiting for her blood work. That was my duty as a physician.

Malcolm, baby, I'm over here!

Vivian's face broke into a victorious grin as she waved toward the far end of the corridor.

I turned, disbelieving. And there he was. Malcolm Farley, walking toward us.

He cut through the crowd in long strides, slid his hand around her waist, and spoke in a tone that was indulgent and faintly exasperated.

Why didn't you stay home like I told you? What are you doing here?

Vivian pouted, playing coy. It's your fault for wearing me out! I was worried about the baby, so I came to get checked. And then these people accused me of making up stories about you. Malcolm, baby, tell them. Tell them the baby's yours.

Malcolm's gaze turned frigid. He swept the room. Who has a death wish? Who dared question my woman?

My woman.

Two words. They crushed every skeptical glance in the room into silence.

And they crushed the last shred of hope inside my chest along with them.

Malcolm finally noticed me in the corner, my eyes burning red.

A flicker of something crossed his face. It vanished almost before it registered, and he composed himself and walked toward me.

Honey, I wasn't planning to hide this from you forever. After all, Vivian's baby will need to be raised by you eventually. You can't have children, so I had no choice but to find someone to have one for you. Everything I did, I did with you in mind. Be good. Be the bigger person.

He spoke low enough that only I could hear. Every word landed like a fist against my ribs.

I dug my nails into my palms until they ached, my eyes burning redDo you even remember why I can't have children?

Seven years ago, right before our wedding, one of Malcolm's defeated business rivals came looking for revenge. He'd wanted to kill Rosalie to make Malcolm pay.

I'd been having afternoon tea with her at the time. I didn't hesitate. I threw myself in front of her.

The knife meant for her heart plunged into my uterus instead.

That single stab cost me my ability to ever bear children.

I knew a family like the Farleys needed an heir. So I swallowed my pain and offered to break things off.

Malcolm fought to keep me. He stood outside my apartment in a downpour all night long.

Even after he collapsed with pneumonia and slipped into delirium, he kept murmuring that he'd never need children, that all he needed was me.

That same man who'd once sworn the world to me now stood before me, his voice as calm and cold as a stranger's.

Why bring up the past? Let's talk about the present and the future.

The present is that Vivian is carrying my child, and she's keeping it. As for the future, you'll raise the child. That's your duty as Mrs. Farley.

His tone was flat, unbothered, as though this weren't betrayal at all but a business negotiation.

Something inside my chest tore open, raw and bone-deep.

Then my assistant came hurrying over, her expression conflicted, and placed Vivian's blood work report in my hands.

Positive. Just as I'd suspected.

I drew a long breath and looked Malcolm dead in the eye.

Fine. Then let's only talk about the present and the future.

Right now, I'm telling you that Vivian has an STD. Your grand plans for the future? You might want to rethink those.

Malcolm snatched the report from my hand. His face went dark.

He strode straight to Vivian, barely contained fury flickering behind his eyesExplain.

Is it the gender results

Vivian's gaze landed on the report. Her breath caught.

A flash of panic crossed her face before she threw herself into Malcolm's arms, her eyes reddening on cue.

She's framing me! You know I was a virgin when we got together! I'm carrying your baby, and you'd believe her over me?

Tears spilled down Vivian's cheeks in an unbroken stream, landing on the sharp ridges of Malcolm's knuckles, dousing his anger and suspicion in one stroke.

Malcolm wiped her tears away with his thumb, his voice dropping to a gentle murmurHey, don't be such a crybaby. I believe you. Stop crying, alright?

No! No!

Vivian refused to let it go. One hand pressed protectively over her belly, the other jabbed a finger at me.

This isn't over! My stomach hurts from the stress. She started this, so she gets on her knees and apologizes!

Malcolm's gaze faltered for a moment, but in the end, he turned to me and gave the order.

I know you're upset, and that's why you forged the test results to scare Vivian.

But she's carrying my child. She can't handle that kind of shock, and she shouldn't have to suffer.

Just apologize.

A deafening buzz filled my skull, and the murmurs around us erupted all at once.

Isn't Mr. Farley supposed to be famous for doting on his wife? He actually cheated?

And now he wants the wife to kneel to the mistress? The world's gone upside down.

So what if she hasn't gotten pregnant in seven years? Dr. Thomas is still young, and she's the Miracle Surgeon. Why couldn't he just wait?

A taste of rust flooded the back of my throat. I'd bitten clean through my lip.

I stretched my mouth into a smile and walked toward Vivian.

You're right, it is my fault

Slap!

My palm cracked across her smug face.

You slept with another woman's husband, got knocked up with a bastard child, and had the nerve to flaunt it in my face. My only mistake was not slapping you sooner. I should've put you in your place the second you walked in.

Smack!

I backhanded Malcolm across the face.

My real mistake was believing your promises. Seven wasted years.

It's over, Malcolm. I want a divorce.

I swallowed the swarming ache in my chest and turned to leave.

Without warning, a shove from behind sent me crashing stomach-first into the edge of the wall.

The old wound, the one I'd gotten shielding his mother from a knife, screamed to life. The pain buckled my legs and I crumpled to the floor, cold sweat soaking through the back of my shirt.

Seems I've spoiled you too much. That's why you act like a lunatic, slapping me and my woman. You

His tirade cut off the moment he saw the state I was in. He crouched down, something uncertain flickering across his face.

I just wanted you to get on your knees. I didn't mean to hurt you. Is it your stomach?

His palm settled over my abdomen on instinct, fingers kneading with a gentleness that was practiced, familiar.

Every time the weather turned gray and wet, the scar that had once cut down to bone would throb without mercy.

Malcolm had taught himself massage therapy just to ease my pain, because he couldn't stand to watch me suffer.

The same tenderness that once gave me warmth now made my skin crawl.

I shoved his hand awayWorry about yourself first. I'd suggest you get a blood test too, because there's a good chance you're already infected.

Enough!

Malcolm's gaze went darkWhether Vivian is clean or not, I know better than anyone. Shut your mouth.

Ugh, babe, don't waste your breath on that old hag. Vivian clung to his arm, all doe-eyed and pouting. If she wants a divorce, let her have it. She's the one who can't have kids. She's the one at fault. Make her leave the marriage with nothing!

I caught the greedy spark lighting up Vivian's eyes and let out a cold laugh.

Oh, someone's leaving with nothing, alright. According to the prenuptial agreement, the party at fault is the one who cheated. That's Malcolm. And he's the one who walks away empty-handed.

You wouldn't dare.

Malcolm glared at me.

I glared right backTry me.

His answer was a kick driven by pure rage.

I hit the floor, arms curling around my stomach, face drained of color. Not a trace of pity remained on his. He only snarledI never knew you were this calculating. Have you been scheming to take my assets this whole time?

A bitter, broken laugh scraped out of my throatYou're the one who insisted on signing the prenup. You said it was my safety net. If you hadn't cheated, who could have used it against you?

Time really was a cruel magician, twisting love beyond recognition.

Vivian seized the moment, stepping forward and raising her stiletto over my lower abdomen, ready to bring it down.

At the last possible second, a figure threw herself toward me.

A sharp voice rang outAll of you, stop! Nobody lays a hand on a member of the Farley family!

It was my mother-in-law. The woman who had loved me like her own daughter.

Vivian yanked her foot back in fright.

The wire-taut tension inside me snapped, and the tears I'd been holding back for so long finally fell.

But Rosalie Farley didn't so much as glance at me. She stepped right over my body, took Vivian's hands in hers.

Vivian, sweetheart, you texted me that someone was bullying you, so I rushed right over to back you up. Now, who's the one with a death wish?

Vivian's smugness returned in an instant. She pointed down at me, crumpled on the floorHer!

I lifted my head, a wrecked mess, and through the blur of tears met my mother-in-law's ice-cold stare.

That was when it hit me. Malcolm's affair. She'd known all along.

The "Farley family member" she meant was Vivian.

It felt like cotton had been stuffed down my throat. When I finally spoke, my voice was barely a raspWhy?

I had saved Rosalie's life twice.

The first time, it was late-stage recurrent ovarian cancer. The surgery was so high-risk that I was the only surgeon in the world who could perform it. I stood at that operating table for sixteen straight hours before I pulled her back from the brink.

That was how Malcolm and I met. He fell for me at first sight, pursued me relentlessly, and his mother pushed for us at every turn.

I didn't say yes just because he was handsome, polished, and magnetic. I said yes because from the very beginning, Rosalie treated me like her own daughter.

I was an orphan. Having a family was something I'd dreamed about my entire life.

After I saved her the second time and lost my fertility in the process, Rosalie cried until she nearly passed out. She held my hands and told me I was her daughter-in-law, her daughter, and her savior.

As long as she had breath in her body, she swore, no one would ever hurt me.

She even worried that people might gossip, so she quietly spread the story that the reason we had no children was Malcolm's problem, not mine.

But now, the only thing left in her eyes when she looked at me was disgust.

What are you glaring at me for? I never asked you to save me! If I hadn't been afraid my condition would relapse and needed to keep the only surgeon who could operate on me close, do you think an orphan like you could've set foot in the Farley family? Seven years have passed. I'm fully recovered. And you, sitting on the wife's throne, can't even produce an heir. The Farley family has no room for you anymore!

So all the love Rosalie had given me was nothing but a mirage.

So I had never truly had a family at all.

With my medical assistant propping me up, I stood on legs that barely heldA two-faced mother-in-law, a husband riddled with disease, and his infected mistress. You're right. I don't belong in a family like this!

What disease? Rosalie's eyes went wide, her voice shrill.

But a calculating gleam flickered through Malcolm's gaze. He turned to meI'll take the blood test. But let's raise the stakes. If I come back clean, then you're the liar, and you leave this marriage with nothing. Do you dare take that bet?

As a doctor, I knew perfectly well that Malcolm and Vivian had been sleeping together constantly. The odds of him being infected were almost certain.

But almost wasn't absolute.

My hesitation gave Malcolm all the confidence he needed. He declared, brazen as a street hustlerSilence means consent. The bet takes effect immediately!

He handed the vial of blood he'd had drawn to his assistant and ordered him to personally oversee every step of the testing.

Everyone waited, curious about the result. But Vivian couldn't sit still.

Ow, it hurts!

She clutched her stomach, her voice breaking into a whimperEarlier, when that old hag was examining me, she pressed on my belly a couple of times. I felt uncomfortable right then, and now it's getting worse and worse!

That's a lie! my medical assistant shot back. You started provoking us the moment you walked in. Dr. Thomas never even touched you!

Vivian rolled her eyesYou're her lackey, of course you'd cover for her. Liars get what's coming to them, you know. Better watch yourself out there. Wouldn't want to get hit by a car.

Watching her twist the truth so shamelessly, so viciously, my assistant was shaking with rage.

I patted her hand to steady her and spoke calmlySince we can't agree on what happened, let's check the security cameras.

I pointed to the camera in the corner, still running.

Three years ago, after a patient harassed me, Malcolm had stepped in immediately. He'd handled everything, and then he'd insisted on having cameras installed.

He'd told me that this way, I'd never again be stuck in a situation where my word was all I had.

Malcolm clearly remembered too. Something uncertain passed through his eyes.

Fine, let's check

Sure, go ahead and check!

Vivian cut him off with a piercing wail.

I've been falsely accused of having some disgusting disease, my stomach is killing me and I'm being blamed for that too, and you don't even believe me?

Malcolm, I've suffered so much, and all I wanted was an apology. Is that really so hard? Forget it. I was blind to fall for the wrong man. I deserve this. I don't want to live anymore!

Vivian clutched her stomach and lunged toward the wall.

Rosalie scrambled to catch her, then whipped around and snappedMalcolm, what are you still hesitating for? Some worthless woman or your own flesh and blood. How is this even a choice?

Malcolm nodded, his gaze frozen over as he looked at meNo need to check. I believe Vivian.

He seized my right arm without warning, and twisted. Crack. The sound of bone snapping filled the air.

Blinding pain tore through me, wave after wave, and with it came his voice, cold and merciless.

You're a doctor. You should know that if the bone is set within three minutes, your hand can still be saved.

Get on your knees right now and apologize to Vivian sincerely. Do that, and we move on. Refuse, and you'll live with the consequences.

My heart clenched with a hatred so fierce it nearly bled.

Malcolm!

The scream ripped out of me, raw and ragged.

I will not apologize for something I didn't do! I have spent years saving lives. Even if I despise the other woman, I would never sabotage my own reputation for a personal vendetta!

The crowd stirred, moved by my words.

She's right. Dr. Thomas has always put her patients first. We've all seen it.

My wife had the umbilical cord wrapped around the baby's neck three times. Dr. Thomas performed the C-section and pulled both of them back from the brink.

Same here! My wife couldn't conceive. Dr. Thomas spent a whole year working with her, and she finally got pregnant.

Malcolm faltered for a moment, but then his gaze drifted to Vivian, who was still doubled over clutching her stomach in the distance. His eyes hardened.

And why couldn't you have done it out of spite?

You lost the ability to have children. It twisted you. You can't stand seeing Vivian pregnant, so you smeared her and tried to hurt her. Someone like you doesn't deserve to be called the Miracle Surgeon.

His words hit the crowd like a match dropped in gasoline. The murmuring exploded.

Wait, I heard the fertility problem was on Mr. Farley's side. So it was actually Dr. Thomas all along? Did she start those rumors herself?

The very same people who had just thanked me now turned on me, jabbing fingers in my face.

No wonder my wife was perfectly fine, then after one ultrasound you suddenly insisted on a C-section! You were jealous. You wanted her to go under the knife on purpose! Disgusting!

Spit landed on my face. Before I could wipe it away, a hand cracked across my other cheek.

You can't even have kids yourself, and you had the nerve to treat my wife for infertility? No wonder you charged so much. You were scamming us the whole time! Trash!

The mob shoved me to my knees and forced my head down, slamming my forehead against the floor.

My ears rang from the blows. Blood streamed down my face from my split forehead.

Inside, there was nothing left but despair.

Too late. The three minutes had long passed. My hand would never be the same.

After what felt like an eternity, Malcolm stopped them. He pulled me to my feet, battered and broken, and leaned close to whisper in my ear.

Sweetheart, I never actually wanted to leave you. But that temper of yours really does need fixing. Now that your hand is ruined, you'll never practice medicine again.

Once my blood work comes back, you won't have a cent to your name either. From now on, I'm all you've got.

But as long as you behave, I'll take care of you for the rest of your life. After all, you've always been the one I love most.

My right hand hung limp at my side. My eyes burned crimson.

He had broken my wings and built a cage around me, and he still dared speak of love?

Disgusting. Vile.

I stared at them, word by word, my gaze bleedingYou will pay for this.

The words had barely left my mouth when Director Morrison walked over, his face grave.

Mrs. Farley, your test results are in. I'm sorry to say your condition has relapsed. But don't worry. Your daughter-in-law is the Miracle Surgeon. With her performing the operation, the odds of success are very good.

At the same time, Malcolm's assistant rushed over holding a lab reportMr. Farley, the results are back