Too Late for Regrets I'm Marrying the Soldier Who Saved Me

Everyone said Ethan Vance, the prodigy cardiothoracic surgeon, suffered from emotional detachment disorder.

But during the most desperate year of my life, he paid for my mother’s treatment out of his own pocket and personally performed the surgery that saved her life.

I fell head over heels for him. Ethan said he loved me too, but he needed proof. "Go serve as a combat medic in the war zone for three years, and I'll believe your heart is real.

When you get back, I'll marry you." So, for three years, I lived a life where bullets grazed my eyelashes daily, and I had to perform surgeries on rebel leaders with rifles pressed against my temple.

Every time I stared death in the face, I thought: It's worth it.

Once I go back, I get to marry Ethan. Until the day I returned home early due to a shrapnel injury, and overheard him arguing with a colleague in his office. "Vivian almost died on that battlefield for you!

And you’ve been lying to her and using her from the very beginning?" Ethan’s expression was icecold. "So what?

From the moment I paid for her mother's surgery, this was exactly the day I was waiting for." "Chloe needs the sole credit for that overseas humanitarian mission to secure her permanent residency at this hospital.

Vivian is driven enough, and dumb enough." "When she returns, I’ll convince her to hand over the mission credit to Chloe. In exchange, I'll marry her.

It's a fair trade." Furious, his colleague slammed the door on his way out, nearly running right into me. Ethan looked up and saw me. His pupils contracted instantly.

I touched the bloodstained gauze on my face, my tears falling silently. "Ethan, we're done.

Let's break up." Hearing this, Ethan frowned, his face tight with displeasure. "Vivian, eavesdropping is incredibly rude." "But since you heard it anyway, it saves me the trouble of making up an excuse.

Come to the Chief of Medicine's office with me this afternoon to sign the transfer papers. Give Chloe the credit for the mission.

Tomorrow, we’ll go to the courthouse and get married." I stood frozen, staring deep into Ethan's eyes. There was no warmth there. Just a cold, barren wasteland.

He didn't even show a shred of panic or guilt for being caught in his lie. In that moment, I saw him clearly.

Ethan wasn't afraid of losing me because he never loved me. "Ethan, let me say it again.

We are over." "I am not giving my credit to Chloe, and I am definitely not marrying you." With that, I turned to walk away.

Only then did Ethan stand up, grabbing my wrist with a sudden, tense grip.

He tried to suppress his rising anger. "Vivian, stop acting like a child." "You survived three years on the battlefield, and I’m marrying you as promised.

Wasn’t this the deal we agreed on? Why are you backing out now?" A deal? So the love I risked my life to prove was nothing more than a transaction to him.

I looked back at Ethan and let out a bitter, hollow laugh. "Because you lied to me." Ethan froze, looking genuinely confused. "You lied and said you loved me.

I would never have risked my life on a battlefield for someone who was just using me as a stepping stone." Ethan blinked blankly.

Because of his emotional detachment, he couldn't comprehend what I meant by "love." Yet, hearing my words, a sudden, heavy tightness gripped his chest.

Especially when his eyes drifted to the fresh scar on my cheek and my tearstained eyes. The suffocating tightness made it hard for him to breathe.

Ethan thought that maybe he really did need to see his therapist again. He felt sick. Taking advantage of his hesitation, I yanked my hand free and walked away.

But just as I rounded the corner, a chaotic commotion broke out near the emergency clinic.

Before I could react, I saw a frantic, middleaged woman holding a knife to a nurse's throat. She yanked the nurse's hair, screaming hysterically: "You bitch!

You gave my baby the wrong medication and killed him! Give me back my son's life!" The nurse looked familiar. It was Chloe.

Driven by my instincts as a doctor, I stepped forward to try and calm the woman down. "Ma'am, please, calm down." "Do you know me? I’m Vivian Mercer, a combat medic.

You might have seen me on the news. Please, put the knife down. We can talk about this." The woman stared at me for a few seconds, as if recognizing me.

She slowly pulled the blade away from Chloe's neck, waving it wildly in the air.

Her voice cracked as she shrieked: "What is there to talk about?!" "Do you know how many rounds of IVF I had to go through to get pregnant?

Because of this bitch's wrong prescription, my baby is gone!

And she had the nerve to tell me it was just my bad luck, that I deserved the miscarriage!" I took a deep breath, stepping closer while keeping my voice soothing. "Please don't think that.

I have a former classmate who is a top fertility specialist. She is incredible. I can introduce you to her. You are still young.

There is still a lot of hope for you to have a baby." The woman’s eyes flickered. Her hand holding the knife began to tremble. Just as she was about to drop it...

A sudden, violent force shoved me forward from behind. Slash— The sharp blade plunged deep into my abdomen.

Agonizing pain exploded through my body as screams erupted all around us. The woman was petrified.

She let go of the knife in horror, and security guards immediately rushed in to tackle her to the ground. Warm blood gushed from my stomach, pooling on the floor.

Clutching my wound, I turned around with agonizing effort to look back. Ethan. It was Ethan who had pushed me.

I stared at him in utter disbelief.

Ethan stood in the crowd, looking down at me with a detached, analytical gaze, as if calculating whether the amount of blood I was losing was fatal.

Then, without a word or a shred of emotion on his face, he turned to shield a trembling Chloe and walked away. I collapsed into the pool of blood, completely losing consciousness.

When I woke up again, I was in a hospital ward. The sterile smell of disinfectant mixed with a faint scent of fresh apples brought me back to reality.

As soon as I opened my eyes, I saw Ethan sitting by my bedside, peeling an apple. "You're awake. I'm sorry.

My therapist said I made a mistake this time." "He said I shouldn't have simply calculated the medical risks and pushed you out.

But based on the scenario at that moment, if the woman had snapped, Chloe’s carotid artery would have been severed, causing instant death.

You, on the other hand, would only be stabbed in the abdomen, which is highly survivable." "From an analytical standpoint, I made the right call." Saying this, Ethan handed me the peeled apple. "Vivian, let's make a different deal." I didn't take it.

I just turned my face away. "Get out," I said coldly. "Don't disturb my rest." Ethan went quiet for a moment, then stubbornly pressed on: "I know you're angry.

We don't have to trade your humanitarian credit anymore. Consider this a reward for saving Chloe's life." "Let's go to the courthouse tomorrow." Another deal!

Once again, he was treating me like a piece of merchandise in a transaction! For the first time in my life, I completely lost control.

The suppressed pain and rage forced me to sit up. Slap! I slapped Ethan hard across the face.

But when I spoke, my voice was a broken sob: "Ethan, stop degrading me!" "You’re a medical genius.

You know better than anyone that even if the chance of that knife hitting my inferior vena cava was only one percent, once it happened, the mortality rate is a hundred percent!" "What if I had died right there?" Ethan froze.

For the first time, I saw a flash of fear in his eyes. He lowered his head helplessly, his voice muffled. "I'm sorry. I will work harder with my therapist to cure my detachment.

I will protect you properly from now on." "Vivian, don't die." Silence fell over the room. Seeing that I had no intention of speaking, Ethan finally stood up and left the ward.

Then, the phone on my bedside table began to vibrate. I picked it up, and a deep, comforting voice came through the speaker: "Vivian, I'm on a military flight on my way to you.

I'm almost there." "Come with me. He doesn't love you. He doesn't even know what love is." My tears streamed down uncontrollably. "But he saved my mother all those years ago, Nate.

He said he loved me.

He promised me he would protect me." "Nate... let me be stupid just this one last time." On the other end of the line, there was a heavy sigh. "What if Ethan is still lying to you?" I took a deep breath, my heart finally settling on a decision. "Then I’ll leave with you." "And Vivian Mercer will never forgive Ethan Vance again."

The next day, I accepted the apple Ethan peeled for me. We fell back into a routine.

He visited every day, sometimes bringing fruit, sometimes just sitting quietly, checking on my recovery.

He would tell me to "get some rest" and awkwardly try to make small talk to cheer me up. His therapy seemed to be working. However, his surgical schedule had been packed lately.

The afternoon we were supposed to go get our marriage license, he was called in for two emergency surgeries. So we pushed it to the following week.

But when the day finally arrived, Ethan called me again, saying another emergency had come in. "Vivian, I'm so sorry. An urgent case came in, and I can't leave. Next week.

I promise I'll clear my schedule next week." "It's fine. Do your job. Get some rest." As a doctor myself, I understood. I pushed down the familiar pang of disappointment.

It was fine. It was just one more week. I had survived three years of gunfire and explosions; I could wait a few more days. Until the hospital held an allstaff meeting.

After the Chief of Medicine finished the main agenda, he transitioned to a lighter topic: "On another note, with our HR system upgrade, we need to update our staff records." "Could all newlywed employees raise your hands?

I need a quick head count." A wave of chuckles rippled through the auditorium. This part of the meeting was always meant for a bit of playful public teasing.

I turned my head, only to see Ethan slowly raising his hand next to me. Predictably, colleagues immediately started shouting and teasing: "Ooh, Dr. Vance!

Everyone in this hospital knows you’re marrying Dr. Mercer! But if you haven't got the license yet, it doesn't count! Put your hand down!" "Exactly!

You two are flirting in the hallways every single day. We're dying of sweetness here! Come on, give us a date. When are you actually making it official?" "Dr.

Vance, is your arm tired yet? Don't worry, Dr. Mercer isn't going anywhere!" ... Friendly laughter echoed around us. Blushing, I smiled happily.

I gently tugged at Ethan’s sleeve and whispered, "Put your hand down. The Chief is asking for people who are already married." But as my eyes drifted across the room, I froze.

Not far away, Chloe had raised her hand too. She was looking at me with a smug, provocative smirk. An uneasy feeling gripped my chest.

In the next second, Chloe stood up and spoke loudly so the whole room could hear: "You all got it wrong." "The person Dr.

Vance married is me." Dead silence fell over the auditorium. Then, the room exploded into a frenzy of whispers and gasps, like cold water hitting hot oil.

Countless eyes darted between me, Ethan, and Chloe. The murmurs were deafening. The Chief on stage looked stunned. It took him a few seconds to regain his composure. "Quiet!

Everyone, quiet!" "This is a private matter. We will not discuss this in public! Meeting adjourned! Go back to your departments!" Whatever was said after that, I couldn't hear.

My mind went blank. It felt like I was back on the battlefield, my ears ringing from a nearby bomb blast, every nerve in my body screaming in pain.

I walked out of the hall numbly, merging with the crowd. Ethan caught up to me in a secluded hallway, pulling me aside.

His face was filled with guilt as he tried to explain: "Vivian, I'm so sorry." "Chloe's father was my mentor, Dr. Brooks.

He is terminally ill, and his final wish was to see Chloe settled and taken care of. We made a deal. He used his influence and past favors to demand that I marry Chloe.

But Chloe and I have an agreement." "As soon as her father passes away, I will divorce her immediately and marry you!" Looking at Ethan's face, I felt a massive, hollow hole open up in my chest.

A freezing wind howled through it.

I quietly asked him: "When did you and Chloe get married?" Ethan stiffened, slowly lowering his head. "The afternoon we were supposed to go to the courthouse for the first time." "Then why did you keep promising we’d go the following week?

Bigamy... is a crime, Ethan." Ethan kept his head low. I could clearly see the shame in his eyes. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I lied to you.

I just wanted to stall for time until her father passed." An icy chill washed over me. When I spoke, my voice was barely a whisper: "Ethan, I am never forgiving you."

I went straight to HR to request a leave of absence. The scandal had already spread like wildfire.

The HR director looked at me with deep pity and signed my paperwork without a single question. As I walked out of the hospital lobby, Chloe blocked my path.

She held her chin high, looking like a victorious general. She smirked at me: "Are you finally giving up?

If Ethan hadn't told me you'd willingly hand over your humanitarian credit to me, I would've never let you cling to him for this long! But now, Ethan and I are legally married.

If you dare to come near him again..." "You're just a pathetic, homewrecking mistress!" Her insults didn't make me angry.

I only felt a deep sense of pity. "You are truly shameless," I said quietly. "You have completely disgraced your father's legacy." "And no matter what, you should never treat the person who saved your life this way." I don't know which sentence triggered her, but Chloe suddenly lost her mind.

She pointed her finger at me and screamed: "Saved my life? You call that saving my life?! It was that crazy bitch who lost her mind and held me hostage!

She couldn't keep her baby because she’s weak and pathetic! How is that my fault?" "She even threatened suicide and sued my family!

We had to pay her every penny we had!" "Why didn't she just drop dead and save us the trouble? She's a parasite!" My expression turned icy.

The wrong prescription was entirely Chloe’s malpractice. Instead of reflecting on her lifeshattering mistake, she was standing here hurling disgusting insults at the victim.

Just as I was about to call security, a middleaged man suddenly charged from behind me, brandishing a kitchen knife. When Chloe saw him, her face went deathly pale.

She shrieked and tried to run. But the knife caught her arm.

The man chased her, swinging wildly, roaring in agony: "My wife killed herself because of you, and you’re still spit on her grave! I had a perfect family!

My baby is gone, and my wife is dead! You ruined my life, you monster!

Why do you get to stand here and live?" "Chloe, I’m taking your life today!" Terrified, Chloe scrambled toward the hospital interior.

Patients and staff in the lobby began screaming and fleeing in all directions. The scene fell into utter chaos.

I was a doctor, and I had training in basic combat selfdefense from my time in the military. If that man went on a blind rampage, innocent patients would get hurt.

I couldn't let that happen. I turned and ran back into the building, against the fleeing crowd. The man grabbed a heavy metal stand and hurled it at Chloe.

She screamed as she crashed to the floor, struggling to get back up.

The man lunged forward, grabbing her by the hair, dragging her up, and pressing the blade tightly against her neck. "Run! Keep running, you bitch!

I’ll slit your throat right now!" he roared, completely out of his mind. "Stop!" I ran up, panting, and yelled: "Don't do this!" "Do you remember me? I’m Vivian Mercer!

I was the one who signed the leniency letter for your wife after she stabbed me!" The man glared at me, his grip on the knife tightening. "Step back!

I don't want to kill an innocent person." "You’re a good doctor, but if you want to save her, forget it!" Security guards began to encircle him.

The determination in his eyes showed he was fully prepared to die today. "I’m trying to save you!" I pleaded. "You and your wife adopted a little girl, right? Lily.

She’s eight years old. I saw her when I visited your home to deliver the leniency letter. She is so bright. She already lost her mother.

She can't lose her father too!" "If you die today, she’ll be all alone! Who will protect her?" The man’s lips trembled.

He began to whisper his daughter's name over and over. "Lily... Lily..." His hand holding the knife started shaking violently.

He cried out in agony: "But there’s no turning back for me!" "Dr. Mercer, please... please send Lily back to the orphanage for me.

I’m a terrible father..." Tears filled the man's eyes, blinding him with grief. When a person cries, their vision blurs for a moment, and their reflexes drop to their lowest.

This was my chance. I could disarm him. Just a second more, now...! But a sudden, violent force shoved me forward from behind.

My hand reached for the knife, but the momentum forced my entire body weight right onto the blade. Squelch— The blade plunged deep into my abdomen once again.

It tore right through the unhealed scar of my previous wound—deeper, and far more agonizing than before. The blade went clean through me. Blood sprayed everywhere.

I looked back, and as expected...

It was Ethan. Vivian Mercer, you got fooled again. I collapsed into the rapidly expanding pool of blood and blacked out. Beep— Beep— The steady hum of the heart monitor buzzed in my ears.

Waking up was a struggle. Nate was sitting at a nearby coffee table, signing some documents with a grim expression. When he saw me open my eyes, he didn't try to hide his emotions.

He helped me sit up, looking at me with a mixture of anger and heartbreak. "You’ve been back for a month.

You survived a war zone only to almost die in a hospital lobby!" "Vivian, if you had used even a fraction of the ruthlessness you show on the battlefield on Ethan, you wouldn't be lying in the ICU with a dozen specialists arguing over how to stitch your organs back together!" I couldn't help but smile.

Hearing my weak chuckle, Nate looked up and glared at me. "You're laughing? You think this is funny?

Do you know that knife missed your inferior vena cava by two millimeters?" "Two millimeters! If it had nicked it, you would have..." Nate choked up, unable to finish his sentence.

He bowed his head. A tear, heavy with fear, fell onto the back of my hand. It was burning hot. I reached out and gently stroked Nate's hair.

His hair was thick and coarse, but his heart was so incredibly soft. He was the complete opposite of Ethan. Ethan had soft hair, but a cold, stone heart.

And so, in the sixth year of loving Ethan Vance, I finally decided to let him go. "Nate, take me away." "Submit the paperwork. Let's get married."