Charles Bovary was a real mess in medical school. He barely managed to scrape by, his grades hanging on by a thread. It was like watching a guy try to climb a greased pole - painful, slow, and you're not sure if he'll make it to the top. But somehow, against all odds, Charles did graduate. Not as a full-fledged doctor, mind you, but as a health officer.So there he was, fresh out of school with his shiny new qualification, ready to take on the world. Or at least, ready to take on the sleepy little town of Tostes. Charles packed up his meager belongings and set off, his head full of dreams about starting a successful career and making something of himself.Now, you'd think Charles would be calling the shots in his own life, right? Wrong. Enter Mama Bovary, a real piece of work. This woman was like a puppet master, pulling strings behind the scenes.Next thing Charles knew, he was standing at the altar, saying "I do" to Heloise Dubuc. Now, Heloise wasn't exactly the blushing bride you might imagine. She was a wealthy widow, old enough to be Charles' mom, with a personality as warm and cuddly as a cactus in winter.Heloise ran their household like a drill sergeant. She kept an iron grip on the purse strings and made sure Charles knew who was wearing the pants in the family.Meanwhile, Charles was trying his best to get his medical practice off the ground. But let me tell you, it was like watching a penguin try to fly. The poor guy fumbled through diagnoses, mixed up prescriptions, and generally left his patients wondering if they'd be better off asking the local butcher for medical advice.At home, things were no picnic either. Heloise was always on his case, nagging and criticizing like it was going out of style. Their house felt more like a pressure cooker than a home, with tension so thick you could cut it with a knife.And get this - despite Charles being about as unfaithful as a golden retriever, Heloise was consumed by jealousy. She'd convince herself that Charles was off gallivanting with other women, when in reality, the poor guy could barely muster the courage to talk to the baker's wife without turning redder than a tomato.Years crawled by like this, each day feeling longer than the last. Charles and Heloise's relationship was like a wilting plant that no amount of care could revive.Just when it seemed like this miserable merry-go-round would never stop, life threw a curveball. Out of the blue, Heloise fell ill. It was sudden and severe, catching everyone off guard. Despite his bumbling ways as a doctor, Charles did his best to care for her. He was like a fish out of water, floundering around, trying to do right by his wife. But in the end, it wasn't enough.As Heloise's coffin was lowered into the ground, Charles stood there, a mix of grief and relief washing over him like conflicting tides. He was free from the suffocating marriage, but now faced an uncertain future. The town gossips were already buzzing, their whispers carried on the wind like dandelion seeds.Charles, still young but worn down by years of criticism and failure, looked out at the horizon. The sun was setting, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink. It was beautiful, but Charles couldn't shake the feeling that something was coming.Just then, as if on cue, Charles' phone rang. He fumbled in his pocket, nearly dropping it in his haste to answer. The voice on the other end was urgent, talking about some farmer named Rouault who'd gone and broken his leg.