Back in New York, my first surgery was on a young woman with fibroids. While signing the consent form, she was still whining to her boyfriend on the phone. “It’s literally a minor procedure. Did you really ditch a huge deal and fly back from London for this?” “And stop buying me bags and jewelry. I seriously have no room left.” She handed me the form. My eyes landed on the emergency contact line. Ethan Hayes. Same name as my boyfriend. I smiled politely. “What a coincidence.” She took my hand, looking utterly innocent. “Doctor, are all guys named Ethan this obsessed?” “I swear he did this to me. He’s so clingy. Like… scary levels of energy.” “I just wanted a few quiet days, but he found out and flew back anyway.” I froze, almost saying my Ethan wasn’t like that. My Ethan was composed. Polished. Married to work. An untouchable tech elite with a cold, almost ascetic edge. She held up her phone and showed me her lovesick boyfriend. My heart stopped. On the screen was my boyfriend of three years. Ethan Hayes. Smiling at her like she was his whole world. … But my Ethan was never clingy. Never the lovesick type. Even at our most intimate, he always held something back. Tiffany kept bragging. “Okay, Dr. Reed, consent form’s done. Do you need anything else?” I kept a professional smile. “I still need your allergy history before we can finalize the surgical plan and date.” She tapped her forehead and wrinkled her nose. “Oh no. I left my file at home after my premarital checkup. Looks like the surgery has to wait again.” I looked up and blinked it back. “You’re married? You look barely out of college.” She smiled at me innocently. “Yep. We got married on May 9 last year. It was my birthday.” “You have no idea how scared he was I’d run. I was still at Columbia—hadn’t even graduated yet—and he dragged me to the City Clerk’s office, like I’d marry someone else if he waited another second.” “Back in college, he bought a place right by campus to look after me. He’s so clingy it’s suffocating.” She flicked her wrist, looking mock-annoyed. Under the desk, my hand wouldn’t stop trembling. May 9th. The day my mother died.
I’ll never forget that date. That day, I called him over and over. Just wanted to tell him how shattered I was. How badly I needed him there. Even just one hug. What I got instead was a cold text. “Clara, I’m sorry. The company’s at a critical stage right now. I really can’t get away.” “Don’t worry. Once things calm down, I’ll make time to visit your mom’s grave.” So he wasn’t too busy. He was busy marrying someone else. “Doctor? Dr. Reed?” Tiffany’s voice pulled me out of it. She stood up and gave me an awkward smile. “So… should I go home and get the file?” I stood too. “I’ll come with you.” She blinked. “Wouldn’t that be too much trouble?” “Not at all. The sooner we do the surgery, the better. Delaying it won’t be good for your health.” We went downstairs together and got into her car. It was a custom-modified Mercedes-Benz G-Class. Luxury everywhere, but with soft, girly touches in every detail. On the drive, she just kept talking. She told me about the Caribbean islands they’d visited, the Michelin-starred restaurants they’d gone to, and the first night they crossed the line… Her smile was sweet. And unbearable. I stared out the window as the city blurred by, thinking about the future Ethan and I used to plan together. Then the car stopped in front of a luxury high-rise. Sutton Tower. One of the most exclusive buildings in New York. We used to say that after we got married, we’d buy the penthouse there. Turns out, before I ever got a wedding, someone else became the lady of the house. The second I stepped inside the apartment, I froze. The interior layout. The design style. Every single detail. It was exactly like the floor plans I had once sent Ethan.
“This place is gorgeous. Did you design it?” I thought maybe we simply had similar taste. She handed me a glass of water and laughed. “Really? Thanks. But Ethan designed it.” “He said he based it entirely on what I like. Guess he knows me pretty well.” “Look, he even added that little ledge next to the toilet so I can put my phone there.” I went still. That ledge was my idea. One winter night, I was curled up in our tiny rental, eating takeout and sketching our future home on my tablet. I pointed at the screen and walked him through every little idea I had. I thought he was listening because he was building our future. Turned out, I designed someone else’s love nest. Tiffany dragged me around to show me her “castle.” Another woman was living in the home I had designed. It felt like swallowing broken glass. On the second floor, a door swung open and a white poodle ran straight into Tiffany’s arms. “My baby!” she squealed, kneeling to pick it up. “Why are you always this excited to see Mommy? You sweet thing.” Then the dog turned. And ran straight at me. Its tail went wild. It rubbed its head against my leg and leapt up at me. My whole body locked up. The fur. The way it moved…
Tiffany walked over, laughing. “Dr. Reed, wow. Casper really likes you.” “At this rate, he likes you more than me.” My throat tightened. “His name is Casper?” “Yeah. He’s five.” She petted his head and said casually, “I’ve only had him for two years, though. Ethan got him from a friend.” “He said he didn’t want me getting lonely at home, so he found a sweet, gentle dog to keep me company.” I let out this awful smile. Of course it felt familiar. My grandmother gave me that dog before she died. I raised him for three years. Then one day he vanished. I thought I had lost him. I cried for a week straight. Ethan held me while I fell apart and said, “Don’t cry, Clara. I’ll always be with you.” He wasn’t lost after all. Ethan had given him away—just a gift to please his new girlfriend. Tiffany pushed open the bedroom door and started looking for her medical records. But my eyes got stuck on something mounted to the wall. A handwritten weekly schedule. It was Ethan’s handwriting. Clean. Sharp. Monday through Sunday, every day was packed with chores. Laundry. Vacuuming. Tidying up. “What is this?” I asked, and my voice shook. Tiffany glanced over and smiled. “Oh, that’s Ethan’s daily checklist.” “I’m kind of a clean freak, and I don’t like strangers in the house, so I have him handle all the chores.” She rested her chin on her hand, her eyes shining with happiness. “And honestly? He’s pretty good at it.” I stood there, a chill running through me.
When Ethan and I lived together, we had a cleaner. Sometimes I couldn’t even stand looking at the mess, so I washed his shirts and socks myself. Now he was happily doing all of it for someone else. “Found it!” Tiffany said, pulling out a file folder and handing it to me. “Doctor, is this the one?” I opened it numbly. Every signature line for spouse or family contact said the same name. Ethan Hayes. I knew his handwriting better than my own. I swallowed the pain in my chest and said evenly, “Yes. This is fine. I’ll let you know the surgery date.” I turned to leave. Tiffany grabbed my arm. “Doctor, don’t rush off.” “It looks like it’s about to rain, and it’s almost dinner time.” “Weirdly enough, I feel like we really clicked. Stay and eat with us.” “Ethan makes an amazing Beef Wellington.” He cooked? We were together for years, and that man barely stepped into a kitchen. Before I could refuse, she had already pushed me onto the couch. Then she called him. Her voice turned instantly soft and spoiled. “Ethan, where are you? Hurry home and cook.” The voice on the other end was familiar. And completely foreign. Gone was the cold distance I knew. In its place was warm, indulgent affection. “My little troublemaker, I was waiting outside the hospital with a thousand roses for you, and you just slipped away without a word.” A thousand roses. In five years, the most he ever sent me was a dozen. On my birthday. And his assistant bought them. Tiffany pouted into the phone. “That’s what you get for wasting money. Just get home. We have a guest, and she’s waiting to taste your famous cooking.” He laughed. A full, open laugh I had never heard in my life. “Okay, okay. Yes, Your Majesty. I’m on my way.”
I sat there on the couch, barely breathing. My nails dug into my palm until the pain turned sharp. A thousand roses. Picking her up at the hospital himself. Calling her little troublemaker. Laughing like that. None of that was ever mine. I couldn’t even picture the Ethan I knew in an apron, standing in a kitchen. I was still trying to come up with an excuse to leave when lightning split the sky outside. A second later came the low roll of thunder. I covered my ears on instinct. But the violent crash I braced for never came. I slowly lowered my hands. Tiffany smiled at me. “Doctor, are you scared of thunder too?” I nodded. It wasn’t fear so much as trauma-driven terror. She pointed proudly at the windows. “You’re fine in this apartment.” “Honestly, even if a bomb went off outside the door, you wouldn’t hear a thing.” “When Ethan found out I’m scared of thunder, he had the whole place upgraded with top-tier soundproofing.” “The thunder barely gets through.” I just stood there. And the way I’d covered my ears seconds earlier felt pathetic. When I was a kid, I survived a major car accident in a thunderstorm. After that, heavy rain and loud thunder always triggered me. I shake, break out in cold sweats, and want to curl into a ball. I told Ethan about it once over text. He just laughed it off. “Come on, Clara. It’s not that bad. You just miss me, don’t you?” “Baby, I’m about to jump into an international meeting. Get some sleep. Goodnight.” That was it. On those stormy nights, I wrapped myself in blankets and shook through it alone. Sweat soaking the pillow. Biting my hand so I wouldn’t cry out. So no, he did believe me. He just didn’t care. Because I wasn’t the one he cared about. Dazed, I reached for the glass on the coffee table. My hand slipped. Water spilled onto a stack of papers nearby. A title flashed across the page. Accident Investigation Report.
Watch👉 https://cps-front.novelix.live/app-api/ext/new/20260623g9oeD8D9AX 🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “Novelix” app 🔍 search for “ni608280”, and watch the full series ✨! #Novelix
Leave a Reply