He refused to fund his wife’s operation, bought her a plot in a graveyard and then fled to the coast with his lover.
In a quiet wing of a pricey private hospital in London, a young woman lay fading. The doctors moved around her gingerly, as if they feared disturbing death itself. Every now and then they glanced at the monitors, where the vital signs flickered weakly. They all understood that even a fortune could not always pull a person back from the beyond.
Behind the chief surgeons office a tense meeting was under way. In the dimly lit conference room doctors in pristine white coats sat around a polished table. Beside them was her husband, a neatly groomed businessman in an expensive suit, a stylish haircut and a goldlink watch. The junior surgeon, Connor, was especially animated; he pressed hard for the operation.
This ointment costs next to nothing, but it will have her on her feet in a week! he shouted, thumping his pen on the tabletop. We can still save her! he cried, his voice cracking.
Then David, the husband, took the floor. Im not a doctor, he began with theatrical sorrow, but I am the person closest to Emily. He paused, his eyes shining. Therefore I am absolutely opposed to any surgery. Why subject her to more pain? It will only prolong her agony, he said, moving even the most cynical observers to a single tear.
The chief surgeon muttered uncertainly, You may be wrong.
Connor sprang from his seat, his voice trembling with anger. Do you realise youre taking away her last chance?!
David remained as immovable as a stone. He had his own way of influencing decisions and used it without hesitation. The operation will not be performed, he declared. I will sign any refusal.
With a swift flourish of his pen, the womans fate was sealed.
Only a few understood the cruelty behind his choice, though the motive was glaring. David had become rich thanks to Emilyher contacts, her money, her intellect. Now, with her hanging between life and death, he anticipated the moment he could take control of the empire she had built. Her death was a profit to him, and he kept that fact hidden from anyone who might expose him.
He handed the chief surgeon a gift that could not be refuseda payment to keep the operation off the table. Then he selected a burial plot for his living wife.
A fine spot, he mused while strolling among the tombstones, speaking like a property expert. Dry ground, a slight rise. From there Emilys spirit will watch the town.
The cemetery keeper, an elderly man with deep-set eyes, stared at him, puzzled. When do you plan to bring the body?
Im not sure yet, David replied indifferently. Shes still in the hospital, hanging on.
The keeper swallowed. So youve chosen a place for a living person?
No, Im not going to bury her alive, the keeper snorted. Im just sure she wont hold out much longer.
There was no point in arguing. David hurriedan overseas business trip and a longlegged lover awaited him. He imagined the perfect end to his scheme.
What a tidy calculation, he thought, sliding into his Mercedes. Fly back, the funeral is ready, and Im free.
The keeper raised no objections. All paperwork was completed, the money paidno questions, no complaints.
Meanwhile, in the ward Emily fought for her life. She felt her strength ebb, but she refused to surrender. Young, beautiful, eager to livehow could she simply give up? The doctors kept their heads down, eyes averted. To them she was already a dead leaf.
The only one who stayed on her side was Connor, the determined junior surgeon. He persisted despite constant friction with the department head. The chief surgeon, keen to preserve relationships, usually sided with the head, who was rumored to be like a son to him.
Unexpectedly, a new defender appeared: the cemetery keeper, Ian Whitaker. Something about the plot purchase set off alarms. While reviewing the documents, he frozeEmilys maiden name was familiar.
It was the surname of his former pupil, the brightest student he ever taught. He remembered how, years ago, her parents had died in an accident and how she had risen to become a successful businesswoman. Now her name was on a burial deed
This parasite wants to bury her while shes still alive, Ian thought, recalling Davids smug grin. The husband had never shown any real talent; his wealth was built on Emilys shoulders.
Without hesitation, Ian headed for the hospital, hoping at least to say goodbye or intervene. He never got the chance to speak with Emily.
Dont bother talking to her, a tired nurse brushed him off. Shes in a druginduced coma. Better this wayshes not suffering.
Is she receiving proper care? Ian asked, concern edging his voice. Shes still so young
He tried the department head, then the chief surgeon; everywhere he heard the same line: The patient is hopeless, but were doing everything we can. Realising he would not get the truth, Ian left, fighting back tears as the pale memory of his former student flashed before him.
At the exit, Connor caught up with him. I cant believe shes being written off, the surgeon said. Her husband wants her dead.
I agree completely! Connor shouted. She can be saved, but we need decisive action!
For Emily Id do anything, Ian replied.
A solution surfaced suddenly. Ian recalled a former student who had risen to a senior position in the NHS. He contacted the official, detailing Emilys plight.
Do you understand, Mr. Whitaker? Her life now rests on you, the official said. Im grateful for your lessons; they brought me here. He dialed the chief surgeon at once.
The call changed everything. The operation was approved, and Emily was pulled back from the brink.
Across the country, David lounged on a sunny Cornwall beach, smug at his machinations. Perfect, he thought, Ive married a wealthy heiress while her parents were gone, helped with the funeral, played the loyal friend and now Im cashing in.
But his dependence on Emily still weighed on him. She began to suspect his affairs, to question his motives. Then her illness arriveda gift of fate that would free him from her.
No more marrying clever women, he mused, stroking his lovers thigh. Better a pretty fool you can lead around.
His reverie was shattered by a phone call. Early too early. Ill have to cut the holiday short, a nurse warned.
David Archer! the voice trembled. Your wifes operation succeededshes out of danger.
What do you mean out of danger? David roared, drawing puzzled looks from the sunbathers.
Realising his own peril, David packed hastily. His lover looked bewildered. Where are you going?
Vacations over. I have to deal with this, he snapped.
At home he demanded answers from the chief surgeon. He had paid to have Emily die, yet she lived. The doctors merely shrugged. We arent alone. Someone higher up ordered this.
Who could that be? Who wants her? David shouted.
The surgeon pointed to Connor, casting the blame. That was enough for David. Connor was dismissed, his reputation ruined, his medical career in ruins.
Connor nearly hit rock bottom until Ian Whitaker offered him a job at the cemetery. Dont look at it as a step downyou saved a life; thats worth something. With no other options, Connor accepted.
Emilys health gradually returned. Each day brought more strength. Death retreated, and she began to rebuild her life.
She started investigating. Her husband was distant, rarely visiting, showing no joy at her recovery. Colleagues acted oddly, keeping secrets. The chief accountant finally broke down, tears streaming, and confessed:
Emily, the companys in trouble. David has taken over, installed his people, and now everything depends on you. If you dont recover, we have no hope.
Emily was upset but still too weak to act. She tried to reassure the accountant: Dont worry, Ill get better and things will be as they were. For now, hold on and dont let him see any cracks.
It was easier to soothe others than herself. Only two people stood by her: Ian Whitaker, the former teacher turned cemetery keeper, and Connor, the surgeon who had fought for her operation. She awaited their support, craving any human presence.
Then they vanished. David, faster than ever, bribed the doctors again, demanding that visits from Ian and Connor be barred. He saw them as threats to his plans.
When Ian and Connor realized they were no longer welcome at the hospital, Ian recalled his influential former pupil. He dismissed the thought: It would be awkward to ask again. Lets wait. Im sure things will change once Emily regains strength.
Or it could be too late, Connor muttered gloomily. Shes surrounded by enemies now. Its dangerous for her.
Emily felt the same dread. Lying in her bed she sensed her powerlessness. David appeared ready to declare her incompetent, to file paperwork making her legally incapable. If that happened, everything would be over.
She could hardly speak to David; after their last encounter, when she asked uncomfortable questions, he replied coldly, Looks like youre still getting too much medication.
The game is already in motion, Emily realized. He wanted to portray her as unable to manage her own life.
The medical staff stayed silent, shrugging at every query. Emily, still too weak to fight back, found no allies.
Connor, now working as a gravedigger after his dismissal, helped Ian at the cemetery, his heart breaking for Emily.
One day, at a funeral for an elderly businessman, a sudden incident turned everything upside down. The crowd murmured, mourners wept, when Connor, stepping away from the graves, noticed the deceased blinking.
He lunged, grabbing the mans hand. A faint pulse throbbed.
Clear the area! a young widow screamed. Whats he doing?
Connor shouted, Make space! Call an ambulance now! The paramedics arrived, saved the mans life. It emerged that his new wife had tried to poison him for inheritance, but the attempt failed.
That man turned out to be the principal shareholder of Emilys company. Grateful for his rescue, he immediately contacted Connor, asking about Emily.
Emily? Shes my best partner! the businessman exclaimed.
He took control, restored the company to Emilys hands, and exposed Davids schemes. David, stripped of influence, vanished with his lover as if he had never existed.
The chief surgeon and the department head were dismissed, their licences revoked. Trust in them evaporated.
Connor was offered a chance to return to medicine. He rejoined the hospital briefly, then Emily invited him to lead a new private medical centre she was opening. Their professional respect blossomed into genuine affection. Six months later they married, with Ian Whitakernow the cemeterys caretaker and their cherished mentorstanding proudly as best man.
Soon they announced that a child was on the way.
I hope Granddad wont spoil the baby, Ian joked, smiling at the happy couple.
The story ends with a simple truth: wealth and power mean little when compassion is absent, and the greatest strength lies in standing up for those who cannot defend themselves.
