Chapter 3

When I brought up divorce, Nathan's face twisted. He snatched the papers off the table and shredded them in one quick motion.

"Divorce? Do you think I'm an idiot? You're not getting away with this. I'm not signing a thing."

His jaw clenched as he spat out his next words. "This is just another one of your little schemes to scam me, isn't it? Newsflash—it's not happening."

I had expected this reaction, so I didn't hold back. "You won't sign because you're waiting for me to die and cash in on my inheritance. Am I wrong?"

His eyes narrowed, rage flickering across his face. Then he grabbed my suitcase and chucked it out the door. "Shut your mouth! Get out—now!"

Rainee, standing beside him, put on her best 'concerned girlfriend' act, grabbing my hand. "Liana, please. Don't upset Nathan. He's been through so much already."

I couldn't help but laugh. Pitiful? Without me, he'll finally understand the real meaning of the word.

***

After I left, I decided it was time to quit the hospital. Not to run away—more like finally saying yes to my mentor's offer to join a big medical research project overseas. I'd bring the results back one day, but for now, it felt like my chance to break free.

For years, I'd stayed put, tangled up in Nathan's mess. But now? I knew this project mattered. And I wanted in.

That afternoon, I threw on jeans and a hoodie, then headed to the hospital. Clara Finch, my friend and go-to work buddy, caught me as soon as I walked in. Her face screamed worry.

"Dr. Carter, are you serious about this? Losing you is such a blow for the hospital!"

I laid it all out for her, from Nathan's lies to my plan to move on. When I was done, she just sat there, wide-eyed, until finally, she burst out: "What a... what a piece of garbage!"

Her face shifted, her brows pinching together as she glanced over my shoulder.

I turned. And there they were—Nathan and Rainee, strolling in.

Nathan cranked up the drama, practically shouting. "I've already said I don't know you! How long are you gonna keep pretending you're my wife?

"I kicked you out this morning, and now you're stalking me at the hospital? Don't you have any shame?"

A few patients nearby started whispering.

"Wait, isn't that Dr. Carter? She's the mistress?"

"She looks so put-together—who'd have thought?"

Even though it was me they were trash-talking, Rainee played the part of the helpless victim, head down, clutching Nathan's arm like a lifeline. Her voice wavered as she mumbled, "Nathan, my stomach hurts. Can we just see the doctor?"

I stepped in front of them, blocking their path. My tone? Ice-cold. "Nathan, maybe it's time you take a good look at the name on that brain cancer report."

Nathan froze, eyes bloodshot, and shot me a glare. "Liana Carter! What does your cancer have to do with me?"

Clara had had it. She jabbed a finger in his direction. "Didn't you say you had amnesia? How come you suddenly remember Dr. Carter's name? Care to explain that?"

Nathan's smug facade cracked. His face twitched as he stammered, "It's... it's selective amnesia!"

I laughed, sharp and deliberate, flipping the report open and pointing straight to the name at the top. "Then I'm guessing you haven't forgotten your own name, have you, Nathan?"

He snatched the report out of my hands, his eyes locking onto the name. His face went ghost-white, pupils blown wide, and his body swayed like he might collapse. "No... no, this can't be real! It's fake! You forged it! You Photoshopped it! You're the one with cancer!"

I folded my arms and shot him a look. "It's always been you, Nathan Hale."