The End of Marriage Hides Hatred and Love

Today, my daughter, Aurora Courtland, passed the civil service exam and it was my twentieth wedding anniversary.

I was eager to arrange a celebratory banquet, only to discover that Aurora had inexplicably passed away at my husband's hospital.

My parents suffered a heart attack, and the only surgeon available was my husband, Hector Courtland.

I made numerous calls, but he never answered.

As I wept by the three urns of ashes, Hector finally called.

He was hosting a celebration party for his first love's son, and said nonchalantly, "Any doctor can do the surgery.