Second Cut

Second Cut

rabbit

5.0
Comment(s)
5.4K
View
17
Chapters

In my past life, I gave up my chance to become a top surgeon to support my husband Kyson Mason's career. I willingly stood in his shadow as his devoted wife. After he achieved fame and success, he draped his arm around a younger colleague and said to me, "You're no longer good enough for me." Divorced and left with nothing, my skills rusted, and I succumbed to depression, dying alone. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day Kyson first urged me to quit my job. He held my hand, his eyes brimming with affection. "Once I become department head, I'll make sure you live a good life." I smiled and gently pulled my hand away. "No need, Dr. Mason. Also, let's get divorced." My scalpel was itching to see the light of day again.

Chapter 1

In my past life, I gave up my chance to become a top surgeon to support my husband Kyson Mason's career. I willingly stood in his shadow as his devoted wife.

After he achieved fame and success, he draped his arm around a younger colleague and said to me, "You're no longer good enough for me."

Divorced and left with nothing, my skills rusted, and I succumbed to depression, dying alone.

When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day Kyson first urged me to quit my job.

He held my hand, his eyes brimming with affection. "Once I become department head, I'll make sure you live a good life."

I smiled and gently pulled my hand away. "No need, Dr. Mason. Also, let's get divorced."

My scalpel was itching to see the light of day again.

...

Kyson's tender expression froze into shock.

He grabbed my wrist, his grip so tight it felt like he might crush my bones. "Eleanor, what's gotten into you?"

I looked at him calmly, each word deliberate. "I'm not throwing a tantrum, Kyson. I want a divorce."

In my previous life, in this same cramped rented apartment, he used the same honeyed words to paint a vague, glittering future. I willingly gave up my position in the surgical department at Hopkins Hospital and handed over my scalpel.

I became the woman behind him, washing his clothes, cooking his meals, managing his life, and handling every mundane detail so he could focus on his career without distraction.

He succeeded, becoming the youngest head of the cardiac surgery department.

Meanwhile, I wasted away in the grind of daily chores, my youth and talent drained until I lost the courage to even pick up a scalpel.

In the end, he stood with his arm around Lexie Knight, a younger, prettier new hire at the hospital. He used the luxury tie I bought him to wipe cream from her lips.

Then, with an icy stare, he said to me, "Eleanor, look at yourself. You're like a washed-up housewife. How could you possibly be worthy of me?"

I spiraled into depression and died on a rainy day no one cared about.

Now, staring at his familiar face, my heart felt nothing but cold, lifeless calm.

"Why?" Kyson's brows furrowed, his eyes filled with confusion and a hint of irritation at being defied. "Just because I asked you to quit? I was thinking of you! Hospital work is exhausting, and you don't need to push yourself so hard as a woman."

"My career isn't yours to define." I shook off his hand and pulled the divorce papers I had prepared from the nightstand. "I've already signed. I'll pack your things tomorrow and send them to the hospital."

Kyson stared at the neat signature on the papers, his face darkening completely.

He thought I was just throwing a fit, trying to manipulate him into giving in.

He tore the papers to shreds in a sudden burst.

"I won't agree to this!" His voice was a low growl. "Eleanor, don't push me too far!"

I ignored his outburst, turned, and walked into the bedroom, locking the door behind me.

Outside, his furious curses and the sound of him pounding on the door echoed.

I tuned it out and dialed the number for Hopkins Hospital director's office. "Director Thompson, this is Eleanor. I'd like to apply for reinstatement."

Continue Reading

Other books by rabbit

More

You'll also like

The Billionaire's Secret Twins: Her Revenge

The Billionaire's Secret Twins: Her Revenge

Shearwater
4.4

I was four months pregnant, weighing over two hundred pounds, and my heart was failing from experimental treatments forced on me as a child. My doctor looked at me with clinical detachment and told me I was in a death sentence: if I kept the baby, I would die, and if I tried to remove it, I would die. Desperate for a lifeline, I called my father, Francis Acosta, to tell him I was sick and pregnant. I expected a father's love, but all I got was a cold, sharp blade of a voice. "Then do it quietly," he said. "Don't embarrass Candi. Her debutante ball is coming up." He didn't just reject me; he erased me. My trust fund was frozen, and I was told I was no longer an Acosta. My fiancé, Auston, had already discarded me, calling me a "bloated whale" while he looked for a thinner, wealthier replacement. I left New York on a Greyhound bus, weeping into a bag of chips, a broken woman the world considered a mistake. I couldn't understand how my own father could tell me to die "quietly" just to save face for a party. I didn't know why I had been a lab rat for my family’s pharmaceutical ambitions, or how they could sleep at night while I was left to rot in the gray drizzle of the city. Five years later, the doors of JFK International Airport slid open. I stepped onto the marble floor in red-soled stilettos, my body lean, lethal, and carved from years of blood and sweat. I wasn't the "whale" anymore; I was a ghost coming back to haunt them. With my daughter by my side and a medical reputation that terrified the global elite, I was ready to dismantle the Acosta empire piece by piece. "Tell Francis to wash his neck," I whispered to the skyline. "I'm home."

He Thought I Was A Doormat, Until I Ruined Him

He Thought I Was A Doormat, Until I Ruined Him

SHANA GRAY
4.5

The sterile white of the operating room blurred, then sharpened, as Skye Sterling felt the cold clawing its way up her body. The heart monitor flatlined, a steady, high-pitched whine announcing her end. Her uterus had been removed, a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding, but the blood wouldn't clot. It just kept flowing, warm and sticky, pooling beneath her. Through heavy eyes, she saw a trembling nurse holding a phone on speaker. "Mr. Kensington," the nurse's voice cracked, "your wife... she's critical." A pause, then a sweet, poisonous giggle. Seraphina Miller. "Liam is in the shower," Seraphina's voice purred. "Stop calling, Skye. It's pathetic. Faking a medical emergency on our anniversary? Even for you, that's low." Then, Liam's bored voice: "If she dies, call the funeral home. I have a meeting in the morning." Click. The line went dead. A second later, so did Skye. The darkness that followed was absolute, suffocating, a black ocean crushing her lungs. She screamed into the void, a silent, agonizing wail of regret for loving a man who saw her as a nuisance, for dying without ever truly living. Until she died, she didn't understand. Why was her life so tragically wasted? Why did her husband, the man she loved, abandon her so cruelly? The injustice of it all burned hotter than the fever in her body. Then, the air rushed back in. Skye gasped, her body convulsing violently on the mattress. Her eyes flew open, wide and terrified, staring blindly into the darkness. Her trembling hand reached for her phone. May 12th. Five years ago. She was back.

Chapters
Read Now
Download Book