Her Perfect Life after Divorce

Gemma Kelestine never imagined the day she'd come face-to-face with her husband's mistress would be in her role as an attending physician.

The patient list was just another series of names—until she saw HIS. For a moment, she dismissed it as coincidence.

But as she approached the hospital room, voices within froze her steps.

“Maya, this family photo is perfect. I want to hang it in our home,” said a child’s voice, laced with excitement.

Mabel Johnson’s weak response was almost a coo. “You’re such a good boy.”

And then, the familiar baritone of Marcus Wilson, her husband, sealed her fate. “Ali, don’t bother Ms. Mabel. She needs rest.”

Gemma gripped the clipboard tighter. According to the chart, Marcus and their son, Alijah, had suffered minor injuries in a car accident. But Mabel Johnson? A fractured wrist would keep her hospitalized for at least a week.

A junior doctor passing by had marveled, “Mr. Wilson arranged for two extra beds in her private room. Must be love. Rumor has it, Mabel’s his first love, and that little boy… well, he’s hers. Marcus waited six years for her. It’s like a movie romance.”

A movie where Gemma was cast as the tragic extra.

She had been his wife for six years, living in the shadows, their marriage hidden, without a ring or ceremony. She had cooked, cleaned, and sacrificed her career for them.

In the end, her reward was learning her husband had “waited” six years for another woman.

She leaned against the wall, listening to the voices inside.

“Mom’s no fun. She makes me do all this boring stuff. You’re the best, Maya. I wish you were my mom!”

“Ali, you shouldn’t say that,” Mabel said softly, a smile evident in her tone. "Max, don't just sit there and listen."

Marcus’s voice was unreadable. “Kids say the darndest things. I can’t control his heart, only his mouth.”

The double meaning in his words stung, but it also woke Gemma from her daze.

Taking a deep breath, she opened the door, silently accepting the truth that she'd lost her husband and son in that moment.

Her son Alijah stood near the bed, clutching a framed photo.

In the photo, it was Mabel Johnson who stood beside her husband and cradled her son.

A portrait of a "perfect family".

"Gemma."

Marcus’s expression immediately hardened, his tone frigid. “What are you doing here?”

Alijah took a step forward, shielding Mabel. “Mom, what do you want?”

The way they looked at her like she's the intruder here.

Fine, she's the evil dragon in the Wonderland.

Her chest felt like it had been ripped open, the pain so visceral she could taste blood in every breath.

So, this is what it feels like to sever years of love and family ties.

"I’m your attending physician."

She forced herself to tamp down every turbulent emotion, clinging to reason by a thread.

Marcus’s wariness didn’t waver. His tone, cold and dismissive.

"I’ll request a different doctor."

Then, as if struck by an afterthought, his brows furrowed, and he added.

"Don’t make a scene. I’m just worried you’re too busy to get home and cook for Ali."

Since being promoted to attending, her workload had doubled. Late-night surgeries and constant overtime were her new norm.

Sometimes, she’d come home to find Mabel had already brought food—takeout drenched in oil and salt.

But Marcus and Alijah loved it.

“Mom, even dog food tastes better than your cooking,” Alijah had once declared.

That had been the breaking point after a grueling 10-hour surgery that ended in a patient’s death. On the verge of collapse, her emotions unraveled in a full-blown outburst.

Mabel, with her saccharine tears, had been quick to deflect blame."It’s all my fault. I just thought Gemma was too busy, so I brought dinner. I didn’t mean for her to misunderstand. I’m so sorry, I really am."

The fallout? Her husband and son had scolded her and whisked Mabel off on a little outing to "clear their minds."

Gemma's heart had frozen solid that day. Now, she spoke with a quiet detachment."Alright, request it soon. Otherwise, I’ll need to issue medical orders."

Her composure threw Marcus off. A flicker of surprise crossed his face, followed by unease.

Alijah, too young to catch the undertones, clutched the family photo tighter to his chest.

“Mom, you’re not allowed to touch my picture. I’m putting it up at home!”

Mabel chimed in, her voice breezy. "Gemma, don’t misunderstand. That’s just a picture from the amusement park—something the staff took randomly."

Alijah, mistrustful even of her, clutched the frame as though his life depended on it.

Gemma’s face was pale, but her voice remained steady. "Alright."

"If you don’t let me hang it, I’ll—"

Alijah stopped mid-sentence, stunned by her sudden acquiescence. His little face froze in confusion before breaking into pure, unrestrained joy.

"You mean it? You won’t go back on your word?"

She nodded. "Don’t worry. I promise."

The shift in her demeanor set Marcus on edge. As if sensing an impending storm, he opened his mouth to speak, but she glanced at her watch and cut him off. "I’m finishing my shift. Please file that doctor change request as soon as possible."

She paused, then met Marcus’s gaze. "Are you coming home tonight? I need to discuss something with you."

Marcus almost said yes but then reconsidered, suspicious of her unnerving calmness. "We’ll see."

She was unfazed. "I'll wait for you at home until 10 p.m."

Before he could respond, she turned on her heel and left.

Behind her, Marcus spoke in a tone that was almost condescending. “The driver’s in the parking lot; he can take you home.”

“No need. I’ve got my bike.”

As she closed the door, Mabel’s unapologetic voice drifted out.

“It’s all my fault. Gemma must’ve misunderstood. Max, you should go comfort her.”

“Don’t bother. She’ll be fine by tomorrow,” Marcus replied casually.

A faint bitterness tugged at Gemma’s heart. Yes, over the years, her anger had never lasted more than three hours.

But this time, it wasn’t anger. It was resolution.

Back home, Gemma packed her belongings. Her marriage to Marcus had been a transaction—she was a “good luck charm” to his ailing health, their relationship solidified by a drunken night that resulted in Alijah.

She had once believed she’d melted his icy heart, but now she saw the truth.

Now that the dream has shattered, all that’s left is utter disgrace.

The divorce papers were placed neatly on the dining table. At 10 p.m., suitcase in hand, she left the house.

When Marcus and Alijah returned hours later, they were too tired and went straight to bed.

In the darkness, Marcus did not even notice that a person was missing from the bed.

By morning, when Marcus finally emerged from his room, the aroma of breakfast greeted him.

Smirking, he thought, "She’s back to normal."

After washing up, Marcus came downstairs and saw the dishes neatly arranged on the dining table. Without a second thought, he glanced toward the kitchen and casually instructed, "Prepare an extra portion. I’ll take it to Mabel."

But as he sat down to eat, the housekeeper Gina peeked out from the kitchen. “Sorry, Mr. Wilson. If I’d known you needed an extra portion for Miss Mabel, I’d have made more.”

Marcus took a few bites of breakfast but frowned.

It wasn’t bad—just not to his taste.

Alijah shuffled in, rubbing his eyes. When he saw the clock, his face crumpled in panic. “I’m going to be late for school! Why didn’t Mom wake me up?”

Silence greeted him.

His little face puffed up with frustration, and his short legs hurried toward the kitchen. He bumped into Gina, who was busy at the counter.

“Oh dear, young master Alijah, be careful! It’s fine if I fall, but what if I hurt you?”

“Where’s mom?”

“She’s probably gone to work.”

“Oh, awesome! If she’s not here, being late doesn’t matter. Gina, I want a pork floss sandwich!”

“Of course, dear. Let me sprinkle on the pork floss.”

“This pork floss tastes weird!”

“Impossible! I just bought it from the store this morning.”

“I want the kind we used to have!”

“But we ran out of that kind. Madam used to make it herself. I don’t know how to.”

"Alijah, are you full?"

Gina watched as the boy stomped off angrily without touching the sandwich.

Confused, she turned to Marcus, who had put down his chopsticks and was getting ready to leave.

“Mr. Wilson, wait!”

Gina slapped her forehead, suddenly remembering. “There was a document for you on the dining table earlier.”

She opened a nearby drawer and pulled out a file folder.

As the housekeeper, she hadn’t dared to peek inside and had no idea what it contained.

Marcus frowned. He rarely left important documents outside his study.

Could it be Gemma’s?

He took it without a word, opened it, and scanned the contents.

A bold title jumped out at him: Divorce Agreement.

......

For the first time since her marriage, Gemma woke up naturally.

When she opened her bedroom door, she saw her best friend Cali had already prepared breakfast. Beside the plate was a note:

"Sweetheart, this too shall pass. Brighter days are ahead."

Next to the note, a sandwich smiled back at her with a face drawn in ketchup.

Gemma's heart warmed, and tears almost spilled over.

She and Cali had grown up as two small-town strivers. Gemma had been roped into becoming Mrs. Wilson, while Cali soared in her career, now a corporate executive earning millions annually.

Despite their different paths, their bond had remained steadfast.

After finishing breakfast, Gemma’s phone rang.

“Mrs. Wilson, may I ask why Ali was late today? You didn’t drop him off, so I wanted to check.”

“Ms, Ali’s father and I are in the process of divorcing. Please direct these concerns to him from now on. My apologies.”

“But you’re still Ali’s mother…”

“He’ll probably have a new mom soon.”

The teacher fell silent, awkwardly ending the call.

Gemma didn’t care. She’d already resolved to let go and was ready to face whatever consequences came her way.

She hopped on her bike and headed to work. It wasn’t about saving money—her house was close to the hospital, and traffic jams made cycling faster.

After the morning meeting, as she left her office, someone suddenly grabbed her arm and pulled her into a stairwell.

Panic rose in her chest, and she almost screamed for help until the familiar scent of cedar calmed her.

“What are you doing?” she asked sharply, yanking her arm free from Marcus’s grip.

Marcus’s expression was as dark as a storm cloud. “The divorce papers!”

"Ah. So you'd gone home last night."

A flicker of discomfort crossed his face.

She had said she’d wait until ten, but he hadn’t taken her seriously.

In the past, no matter how late he returned, she would always wait. If he’d been drinking, she’d stay up to prepare him hangover soup.

“You want a divorce? Why?”

“You really don’t know?”

Her words left Marcus momentarily speechless before he sneered. “All because of that photo?”

Gemma froze.

So in his mind, the cracks in their marriage boiled down to a single photograph?

Her tone turned colder.

“Yes, just because of that damn photo.”

Marcus clenched his jaw, clearly frustrated.

“That’s ridiculous. Mabel only took Ali to relax after his classes. She was doing it for his good. That photo was just a mistake by the photographer—what’s there to make a fuss about?”

Gemma felt a wave of exhaustion.

She’d discussed this with him countless times—Ali could relax, but only after completing his schoolwork.

And yet, in the past few years, every time she took Ali out to play, Marcus had never joined them.

At first, he’d offer half-hearted excuses. Later, it just led to arguments.

“Admit it,” Marcus said, voice sharp. “You just don’t want Ali spending time with Mabel.”

Gemma took a deep breath. “That’s why I included it in the divorce agreement—I won’t fight for custody. I’ll let you have your little family of three.”

Her decision hadn’t been impulsive. She’d made up her mind a week ago.

That day, it was her mother-in-law’s birthday. The Wilson family mansion had invited half the city’s elites. Gemma’s colleague had been injured and couldn’t perform a critical surgery, so she’d stepped in.

The operation lasted eight hours. By the time she arrived home, utterly drained, the party was already in full swing.

Barbara’s face darkened the moment she walked in. “Why are you here?”

Gemma didn’t even know how to respond.

After enduring six or seven years of cold treatment, she’d long since stopped resisting.

She quietly handed over the pearl necklace she had carefully prepared.

Barbara’s expression grew colder. “I’ve already received a Tahitian pearl necklace of much better quality. You might as well keep this one.”

Mabel appeared then, linking arms with Barbara, her face full of regret.

“I’m so sorry, Gemma. I didn’t know you were planning to give pearls too.”

Gemma was used to being treated poorly, but Mabel’s words made it seem like she was the one causing trouble, turning her into the villain.

Marcus intervened, his voice harsh. “What does this have to do with you? She kept her gift a secret—how could anyone know?”

Gemma’s face turned pale as the scolding humiliated her in front of the crowd.

Mabel immediately teared up. “I shouldn’t have come. I’m ruining your family’s evening.”

Barbara waved her off. “Nonsense! You’re like a daughter to me—closer even. If you didn’t come, I’d be heartbroken!”

“But I’m afraid Gemma might feel upset…”

Marcus’s glare darkened as he looked at Gemma.

“If you’re feeling unwell, you should’ve stayed at the hospital. Why come back at all?”

Gemma wanted to explain, but Alijah suddenly ran over, wrapping himself around Mabel’s leg.

“Maya, don’t go! Let Mom leave instead. She’s awful!”

At that moment, Gemma felt as though her heart had been pierced. She was in agony but completely numb, unable to react.

She had done nothing wrong. She hadn’t said a word.

And yet, she was treated like a villain—a stain everyone wished would disappear.

For a long moment, she stood frozen.

But this time, she didn’t cry or beg for Marcus’s understanding. She didn’t plead for fairness.

Instead, she clenched her fists and spoke coldly. “Ms. Johnson, don’t leave. If anyone needs to go, it should be me.”