When I had a heart attack and needed a heart transplant, I didn't contact my husband, who is a doctor in a cardiac surgery department. Instead, I asked my mother-in-law to call an ambulance. In my last life, when he accompanied me to go through the hospitalization procedures, he missed a call from his first love, who died suddenly at home. My husband cared for me so much after my surgery. When I thought he had put aside that relationship, he stabbed my mother-in-law and me to death. "If it weren't for you, how could Tingting die? You would all have to be buried with her!" When I opened my eyes again, I went back to the day of my heart attack. This time my husband got his wish and found his first love. But why did he still regret it?
