— You wouldn’t actually go through with this, — my husband said with a cold smirk.
— You know I will. And honestly, Eleanor, you’re a smart woman. You should understand that when a man is in love, he’ll do whatever it takes.
Eleanor turned to face him, her voice steady despite the betrayal:
— Love? Do you really think a twenty-four-year-old girl wants a man pushing fifty for his personality?
— That’s not your concern. I want you gone. Chloe is going to take your place as Head of Surgery. She’s the future of this hospital.
— Fine. I’ll transfer to the Mayo Clinic or somewhere out of state.
— No, you don’t understand. You’re done practicing medicine. Period. I suggest you find a quiet place in the middle of nowhere where the boards can’t find you. Otherwise, in ten minutes, I’m filing a report stating that the patient’s death last night was entirely your surgical error.
— You mean the patient Chloe killed because she didn’t check the vitals?
— Everyone makes mistakes. It turns out he had very influential relatives. I’m not letting Chloe take the fall for a learning curve. It’s going to be you. If you leave now, the paperwork won’t hit the desk for a few days. If you stay, the police will be here in an hour. Consider it a professional courtesy.
Eleanor leaned against the desk, her world tilting:
