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My Ex-Husband's Regret: The Surgeon's Return

Chapter 8 

Word Count: 862    |    Released on: 15/10/2026

ty Rom

ist, his broad chest pressing against my back u

weat, and raw metallic

st the edge of the examina

lines just to get your bandages changed? Your me

oice rough and low. "If cheap methods keep you f

my elbow, freeing myself from his g

f you're not in t

ve through the wrought-iron gates o

for three years, and walking up the limestone s

double oak doors o

mber bedside lamps cast long, intimate

the headboard, wearing only

old hockey scars, but the white gauze on his righ

shower and let the water r

o the nightstand. "I told you specifically not t

burning in the dim light. "You

ched the kit, and pulled out s

ir of latex gloves. As I leaned closer,

breathing instantly tur

bandage, my fingers accidentally brush

a low, ra

sterile swab into antiseptic and run

ot out, clamping around my wri

in the trauma bay today... was the

t his. "Mr. Peck, doctors feel responsib

tered whatever thin threa

violent yank, h

next second, my back

ardwood floor, spilling scissors

my head with his massive left hand, hi

eing you on Ezra Norton's arm at that

be jealous! When you dragged Karlie Nguyen down every red

ever slept with

suffocating, possessive heat. He lowered his head, his lips grazing my earlobe,

ood. You're m

te conquest, tasting of smoke and raw copper, but it quic

racing the curves of my body throug

y for him. My rigid muscles slowly betrayed me, softening under his touch. The hands that were balled

rrender to the intoxicati

i

rilled from t

t up with "Ka

warmth and seductive tenderness vanished

om my lips, letting go of my

ha

"Garold! Help me! There's a drunk man outside my apartme

oncern. He sat up instantly, turning his back to m

e cold air hitting my flushed skin, fee

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My Ex-Husband's Regret: The Surgeon's Return
My Ex-Husband's Regret: The Surgeon's Return
“I am a chief trauma surgeon and the secret wife of Garold Peck, the billionaire captain of the Boston Bruins. For three years, I played the invisible spouse. But tonight, he stormed into my ER carrying a rookie model with a minor ankle sprain, demanding I treat her like royalty while humiliating me in front of my staff. To indulge her, he let her ruin my bespoke silk gown. When I refused to strip off my own dress for her at a high-society gala, he used his wealth to hostile-takeover my best friend's design studio. My abusive adoptive father even threatened to auction off my dead mother's house if I didn't get on my knees and apologize to Garold to save his corporate contract. For thirteen years, I loved him, enduring his public PR romances and cold dominance, thinking my loyalty meant something. I didn't understand why he had to destroy everything I cherished just to force my submission to a woman he claimed was merely a business asset. After he got injured in a car crash, he still tried to use my family's debt to force me to come home and bandage his wounds. My shallow family ties and my dead marriage were completely gone, and I finally gave up. I calmly slammed the divorce papers against his chest. "I'm walking away with nothing. See you at City Hall tomorrow." This time, I'm going to bankrupt my adoptive family and leave this city forever.”