How Did His Doctor Wife Die In House MD?

Shantelle Scott has been in love with Evan Thompson since she was young. When Evan's father arranged for her to be his wife, she willingly agreed, despite knowing it was against Evan's will. She devoted her life to him in their two-year marriage, forgetting her aspirations. She hoped her husband would love her back. Sadly, one day, Evan coldly said, "I want a divorce! I want you out of my life, Shantelle!" Years passed, Shantelle became a famous surgeon. When her ex-husband came to see her, he asked, "Doctor Shant, I need your expertise." "What is wrong with you, Mister Thompson?" She asked. Yearning reflected in the man's eyes as he suggested, "My heart is broken, and only you can mend it." Shantelle laughed and replied, "Mister Thompson, I am a doctor. I'm not God." *** There are two versions of the book. Old readers can access the old version in your library. Please scroll down. If you don't find it, kindly contact goodnovel (contact@goodnovel.com).

Sold off into marriage to save her mother, Liora thought life would eventually be kind to her, but life threw a dagger at her in the hands of the man she had grown to love. Five years later, Liora Adams returns to New York, no longer the broken girl she once was but a famous doctor, determined to make everyone pay. Nothing prepared her when Travis Ashford looked her in the eyes and said, ‘I need a fix, doctor.’ ‘Mr. Ashford, you’ve got the money; why not get one? ” Liora asked. ‘Only you can fix me, Liora," Travis answered. Liora’s lip curved in amusement as she answered, ‘Oh, Mr. Ashford, fixing exes is not a part of my specialty.’

On Olivia's 24th birthday, the Hilton family announced her marriage to Clayton Bradford, four years her senior, the most sought-after bachelor in town, and the man she had secretly loved from afar. She thought he could learn to love her too. But four years later, he still couldn't forget Caroline. Just as Olivia discovered she was pregnant, Caroline returned, shattering any chance she had of Clayton truly loving her. Faced with the painful reality that she could never compete with his first love, Olivia asked for a divorce and left her husband.

To save her first love, who suffered from uremia, my wife, who was a judge, used her influence to pressure the hospital into awarding one of my kidneys to him. I explained to my wife that I had kidney failure. Transplanting another kidney would mean certain death for me. However, my wife yelled at me in disgust, “His illness is serious, and you’re still acting jealous and competing for my attention? Do you even have a heart?” With the lawyer she hired, she won a court ruling that sent me to the hospital for the kidney transplant. In the end, my kidney failure worsened. I died alone in a forgotten corner of the hospital.

My husband, a surgeon, committed a fatal error during surgery. In despair at the loss of his patient's life, he chose the ultimate escape via sleeping pills on the very same night. By the time I reached his side, his ice-cold body was already being carted into the morgue. His death set the beginning of my tragedy. The patient's family, consumed by grief and rage, turned their wrath on me. Their cruel vengeance eventually took my life. As my spirit left me, I came to witness a shocking revelation. My supposedly dead husband was, in truth, alive and well! While I suffered, he enjoyed a life of luxury with his mistress and his new family. He had it all—sleek fancy cars, a stately mansion, and a mountain of wealth. The discovery burned me with rage. So furious I was, I couldn't rest in peace. When I opened my eyes again, I awoke not in the afterlife, but on the day my husband faked his death. I had returned…

In the late stages of her pregnancy, my wife slipped away into the mountains with her childhood sweetheart, seeking some reckless thrill under the open sky. Fate, however, had other plans. She suffered a massive hemorrhage, and the two were rushed to the hospital. As a doctor, I took one glance at her condition and instructed the nurse to prepare for the cremation. In my previous life, I had risked everything to save her. On that very operating table, she and the child inside her perished together. Her childhood sweetheart, overcome with grief and fury, rallied others to accuse me of seeking personal revenge. Their rage was relentless, and they broke my hands. "A butcher like you, without medical ethics, deserves nothing less than eternal damnation!" they shouted, their words burning like brands on my soul. Yet I distinctly remembered—the surgery had been a success. Her vital signs had stabilized. Clinging to hope, I begged my in-laws to conduct an autopsy, to uncover the truth buried beneath the accusations. Instead, they called the police, who swiftly charged me with performing surgery under the influence of alcohol. Stripped of my rights, I was thrown into prison, where suffering became my only companion. Years later, upon release, I stumbled across a sight that tore what was left of my heart to shreds—my wife, alive and well, behind the wheel of a luxury car, accompanied by her childhood sweetheart and their child, living off the fortune I had worked tirelessly to build. Their betrayal didn't end there. Coldly and methodically, they lured me into a trap, casting me into a cement mixer to erase every trace of my existence. When I next opened my eyes, time had rewound itself. I was back on that fateful day, the one when her hemorrhage began.