Chapter 1The Doctor and the Dress

I just finished a surgery, exhausted and drained, when my fiancé Julian's assistant, Chloe, sent me several photos of her trying on wedding dresses.

"Dr. Xin, which one do you like best?"

In the photos, Chloe was beaming, wearing a white wedding gown and clinging to Julian’s arm. They looked lovingly into each other's eyes, like a couple about to walk down the aisle.

If this were the old me, I would have called Julian immediately, demanding to know why another woman was trying on my wedding dress.

But now, I was just tired. I replied calmly:

"Whichever one you like is fine."

Not long after the message was sent, Julian called:

"Vivian, how can you be so rude? Chloe was just trying to help you out by trying on the dresses, and you have to be so sarcastic?"

"It's nothing."

I hung up before he could say anything else.

I really felt nothing this time.

* * *

"Vivian, what is wrong with you today?"

"Chloe was crying in the bridal shop after seeing your message. The poor girl was so scared she wanted to quit. It's just trying on a wedding dress, who cares who wears it?"

"I invited her over for dinner tonight. You need to prepare a good meal and apologize to her properly."

I had just gotten home from work and laid down on the bed when Julian came in from outside.

The back-to-back surgeries had left me utterly exhausted, my head throbbing.

As soon as he walked in, his face was dark as a thundercloud. He loosened his tie and threw it in front of me.

The way he spoke to me now was like a boss reprimanding a subordinate who had made a mistake.

In the past, I would always listen to Julian to avoid arguments.

But now I was really tired, and I didn't want to say a single word.

Not getting the response he expected, Julian frowned:

"It's just trying on your wedding dress, is it worth making such a fuss?"

"If it weren't for your last-minute surgery, I wouldn't have asked her to help try on the wedding dress. You should be grateful instead of scaring the little girl. You should apologize."

I had made six appointments to try on the wedding dress, but each time he had something come up and canceled, so I had to reschedule.

This time, it was me who canceled, and he replaced the bride.

I laughed angrily at Julian's words and turned my back to him:

"I don't think I need to apologize to Chloe, and I won't."

In our five years of dating, this was the first time I had gone against his decision.

A hint of anger flashed across Julian's face, and he pulled me up from the bed:

"I'm talking to you, what kind of attitude is this?"

The moment his hand touched my body, a cold sensation spread throughout my body.

He suddenly put his hand on my forehead, his tone softening:

"Why are you so hot?"

"You're a doctor, and you don't even know to take medicine when you have a fever."

With that, he turned and brought the medicine box from the living room, handing me a fever reducer.

The capsule slid down my throat, painful.

Just like after Chloe appeared, the grievances I swallowed time and time again would hurt every now and then, until I could no longer swallow them.

After taking the medicine, Julian took the water glass and placed it on the bedside table.

Before I could say thank you, he handed me his phone, which showed a physical examination report:

"Help Chloe take a look, see if there's anything wrong with her body?"

As I took it, a message popped up at the top from someone nicknamed "Little Trouble Maker."

My hand trembled and I clicked on it. In the chat box was a mirror selfie of Chloe in a maid outfit.

"Thanks for the clothes, brother, I love them~"

"Please order Daji around, master~"

Followed by three little hearts.

Seeing me frozen in place, Julian leaned over and saw the chat box on the screen.

He suddenly got angry at me and snatched the phone away:

"Have you seen enough?"

"I asked you to look at the physical examination report, and you took the opportunity to look through my phone. Vivian, you are really terrible."

I watched him blush and smirked.

Sure enough, the more guilty people are, the more eager they are to push the blame onto others.

And Julian was like a clown now.

Meeting my mocking gaze, Julian angrily picked up his jacket and walked out, still trying to justify himself:

"I'm going back to the company to work overtime. I'll come back when you've thought it through."

How ridiculous.

My husband was impatient to find another woman, but he still wanted to push the blame onto me.

"Hmm."

I responded indifferently. Perhaps sensing that I was too obedient, Julian turned around after taking two steps and explained:

"I'm really going to the company to work overtime."

My head was getting heavier and heavier. I covered my head with the quilt and didn't respond until the door slammed shut, and everything returned to tranquility.