Finley insisted their relationship was purely brotherly, but I could see it—it was more than that. He cared for Ashley in ways he never did for me, his fiancée. He began working late, claiming it was for surgeries, but when I checked with his colleagues, I found out the truth: he was spending that time with Ashley.
They stayed in the hospital together until late at night, working side by side—running experiments, analyzing cases, collaborating in ways that slowly shut me out. And the final blow? During my own surgery, the one meant to secure our future, he entrusted Ashley to take the lead.
Yes, surgeries carry risks. And, yes, Ashley’s previous results were flawless—every exam she took, she passed. All the evidence pointed to a freak medical accident.
But I can’t forgive her. No matter how logical it seems, she’s the reason I ended up like this.