After my period went MIA for two solid months, my mom got it in her head that I was pregnant. So, she dragged me to the doctor. And who was sitting in the exam room? My ex-boyfriend, the one I’d dumped two months ago. His face was a blank mask, his voice colder than a morgue. "Get on the bed. Top up, pants down." When I didn't comply fast enough for his liking, he took matters into his own hands and started pulling my pants down himself. But the second the privacy curtain was drawn, he took off his glasses, leaned over me, and whispered, "We never went all the way. So why haven't you had your period in two months?" 1 I never thought I’d run into my ex at my absolute lowest. To be fair, I should have seen it coming. When I saw the name ‘Dr. Cole Jacobs’ on the digital directory in the lobby, my brain short-circuited for a second. It can’t be… I clung to a sliver of hope. It's a big city, lots of hospitals. Coincidences happen. But the moment I walked into the room and our eyes met, that hope died a swift and merciless death. He was impeccably dressed in a crisp, reassuring white coat. He had the title of Deputy Chief Physician at one of the top hospitals in the country. The hand holding the pen was elegant, with perfectly defined knuckles. Who else could it be? His tone was all business. "Ashley Price, is it? What seems to be the problem?" Great. It had only been two months, and he was already pretending he didn't know me. Cold. Though, to be fair, the things I'd said when I broke up with him were a thousand times colder. My exact words were: "Cole Jacobs, after today, the only way you'll ever see me again is if you're on your deathbed, begging for one last look. And even then, I might not grace you with my presence." Well, karma's a bitch. Here we were, reunited in a hospital. Only the tables had turned. He was the doctor, and I was the patient, awaiting my sentence. And as for me "gracing him with my presence"? His appointments were so sought-after that I couldn't get one. My mom had to resort to her superpower—money—and pay double the price to a scalper just to get me in. I’d overheard some girls in the waiting room gushing about how hot the doctor was, how the online reviews weren't lying. They said you didn't even need medicine; just getting his number was enough. His face was so devastatingly handsome it could make you want to live for another fifty years. At the time, I'd wondered if all guys with that name were that good-looking. I was curious to see for myself. And now I have. Devastatingly handsome, indeed. Except the devastation was all mine. 2 I'm usually quick with a comeback, but from the moment I stepped into that room, it was like my tongue had been possessed by a particularly stupid ghost. My mom, however, was completely oblivious to the undercurrent of tension between me and Cole. She launched into a loud, detailed account of my symptoms. "Dr. Jacobs, she hasn't had her period in two months! It’s either pregnancy or some terrible disease. You have to give our Ashley a thorough check-up!" The sheer awkwardness of the situation was enough to build a new wonder of the world. "Of course, ma'am. We'll take it one step at a time," Cole said, his voice the epitome of calm professionalism. He had that perfect bedside manner that made patients feel completely at ease. But I saw it. As he lowered his head to write in my chart, I saw the words he was actually scrawling: "Patient possibly pregnant. Missed period. Not only moved on without missing a beat, but got knocked up by someone else in two months…" Hey, hey, is that last part really medically relevant? "Do you have a boyfriend?" It was a standard OB-GYN question, especially when it came to missed periods. Before I could open my mouth, my mom jumped in. "Oh, yes! And our Ashley and her boyfriend are just so in love. Practically inseparable!" "Have you taken a pregnancy test?" "Not yet! The second I found out she'd missed her period, I rushed her right over. It’s so hard to get an appointment these days," my mom chirped. "I see." On the surface, Cole's expression was placid. But my danger senses were tingling, and I could see the knuckles of the hand gripping the ballpoint pen turning white. The tip of the pen was bent at a seventy-degree angle, pressing so hard it had torn through three layers of paper. Dude, that's my medical chart, not your burn book! "So, is it likely she’s pregnant?" my mom asked, her voice filled with hopeful anticipation. I shot to my feet. "You know, I think I feel fine now! I actually feel like my period is about to start." I knew Cole's possessive streak. If I stayed in this room any longer, I was toast. But my mom shoved me back down into the chair. "What are you talking about, dear? This appointment was so hard to get! Now that we're here, you need to tell the doctor everything that's wrong." I was on pins and needles, a nervous wreck. Cole finally adopted a more sympathetic tone. "With you here, ma'am, Ashley might be a little embarrassed to talk." My mom had a lightbulb moment. "Oh, of course! What's there to be shy about? I've seen it all," she said as she walked out. Do you have any idea who this Dr. Jacobs really is? I wanted to scream. In bed, he's a complete animal! He only looks like a saint. 3 If my life were a movie, it would be a disaster film, and this would be the long, slow-motion shot of my impending doom. As the clinic door clicked shut, it felt like a guillotine dropping. With the sole audience member—my mom—gone, Cole finally dropped the act. He put down the pen he hadn't been using to write my chart. The cool, aloof doctor, with his smoldering eyes hidden behind silver-rimmed glasses, let out a cold laugh. "Well, well, Ashley. You've really outdone yourself. Who’s the father?" "It's only been two months, and you're already pregnant." "That person who texted me was right. You really are a…" He stopped himself. "Forget it. From now on, we go our separate ways. You're just a patient. It has nothing to do with me." His voice was laced with ice. I was completely lost. What text? What was he talking about? Had Cole fallen for a phishing scam? As God is my witness, my heart belonged to Cole and Cole alone! Okay, so maybe I was a little wild before I met him. Our first meeting was hardly the stuff of romance novels. I’d just finished a hellish project for a client and decided to celebrate by hitting a male stripper club with some friends. But our GPS, in its infinite wisdom, led us to a classy, quiet cocktail bar instead. We didn't bother checking the sign and just went in. The place had style, I'll give it that. But my tastes are a little less… refined. After a quick scan of the menu, I ordered a Jägerbomb. As luck would have it, Cole was one of the bar’s investors and happened to be there that night. When he brought our drinks, he offered a friendly warning: "Mixing caffeine and alcohol isn't a great idea. It can cause heart palpitations…" By then, my friends had already plied me with several rounds. I was seeing double. All I registered was a ridiculously hot guy standing in front of me. I grabbed his hand. "Whoa, the talent in this place is top-notch! How much for a night?" "Damn, look at these hands, these abs… premium quality." I don't remember much, but my friends later told me I didn't just grope him; I tried to wrap my arms around his waist and kiss him. They were so mortified they wanted to crawl into a hole and pretend they didn’t know me. The next day, when I sobered up and learned of my transgressions, I was mortified too. But I couldn't get his face out of my head. So, I shamelessly went back to the bar to "apologize," which mostly consisted of me tugging on his sleeve and trying to get another look at his pecs. After I'd stalked him for ten days straight, Cole finally had enough. He cornered me in an alley behind the bar. "Ashley, are you here to apologize or to harass me?" I just giggled. "If you're with me, no more male strippers," he said, laying down his terms. "And no ogling other guys. Can you do that?" "Of course! From now on, my heart is all yours," I vowed. Honestly, that night was the first and only time I'd ever considered going to a male stripper club. It was just a whim. But then I stumbled upon the man of my dreams, and I hadn't looked at another guy since. I was the one who said the harsh words, but Cole was the one who initiated the breakup. His reason was: "I'm too busy with work at the hospital. I don't have enough time for you. I don't want to hold you back." What a load of crap. Of course, I had to fire back with something equally cutting. I had to win the breakup. But now, he was accusing me of cheating, and it had something to do with a text message? There was definitely more to this story. 4 The reason I hadn’t tried to get Cole back these past two months was because I wanted my freedom. It wasn't until after we started dating that he told me his real job was a doctor. The biggest problem with having a doctor for a boyfriend is the constant health policing. Other couples hold hands and sip iced milk tea on a hot day. Cole would stop me, explain how cold drinks on a hot day were a direct invasion of the lungs, and hand me a thermos of ginger-date tea instead. When I ordered takeout, I craved spicy, greasy things like Sichuan hot pot and barbecue skewers. He would calmly list all the ways those foods increased my risk of various diseases until I guiltily cancelled my order. So, when he broke up with me, as baffling as it was, a part of me was relieved. I was finally free to indulge in a paradise of fried chicken, late-night street food, ice-cold beer, and spicy crawfish. No more pinching my nose and choking down the "health tonics" he brought home from the hospital pharmacy. The harsh words were just a front, a way to keep him from coming back and finding me binge-watching shows at 3 a.m. with a pile of takeout containers. For the past two months, my social media has been a curated gallery of heartbreak. I posted angsty song lyrics, stuff like "How Could You Bear to Hurt Me" and "Thinking of You All Night." But in reality, without his watchful eye, I was living my best, unhealthiest life. I'd tried every single pre-packaged meal from the convenience store near my apartment. I ate everything—icy, scalding, greasy—and stayed up until all hours. And now, here I was. My plan had been to eat my fill and then go crawling back to him. But of course, fate had other plans. Seriously, if I’d known I was going to run into my ex, I would not have worn my My Melody pajama set underneath my clothes. The cartoon rabbit’s big, innocent eyes were staring up from my chest, giving it a ridiculously comical look. I was going for a quirky vibe. But! Every time I saw Cole before, I dressed to kill. I wanted his eyes glued to me. Lace, ribbons, silk that clung to every curve, g-strings with pearl embellishments—you name it, I wore it. If he found out this was my actual taste in underwear, I would die of shame. 5 While I was having a full-blown panic attack, Cole's voice cut through the air, cold and clinical. "Get on the bed. Top up, pants down." I clutched my shirt, refusing to budge. "I've seen every inch of you. What's there to be shy about?" When that didn't work, he just reached for my clothes himself. No, you can't! I squirmed like a worm on a hook. The commotion brought my mom back into the room. She saw me writhing on the exam table, trying to escape his grasp. "What is wrong with you?" she boomed. "There's nothing to be ashamed of! To a doctor, there's no such thing as male or female. He's just trying to help you." She rushed over and pinned me down. "Dr. Jacobs, please, just examine her." "I want a different doctor!" I croaked. "This hospital is impossible to get into! I spent three days refreshing the app just to get this slot. You think we can just walk out?" my mom said, crushing my last hope. "Besides, didn't you say you wanted to marry your boyfriend and live happily ever after? Do you want to drag this out and make him worry? He's so busy, do you really want to add to his stress? Don't you love him?" In my mind, Cole and I were on a break, so I hadn't told my mom we'd "broken up." The beautiful future she was describing was the one I'd imagined with him. These vows of a life together, so touching and sweet, were now turning the air sour. The more she talked, the darker both our faces became. He thought she was talking about the guy who'd supposedly knocked me up. And I was getting a headache just thinking about how I was going to explain this whole mess to him. Suddenly, a jarring ringtone shattered the tension: “We should break up with dignity…” It was Cole's phone. His ringtone was that one line, on repeat. Wow, talk about holding a grudge. If he was really over it, would he still have that as his ringtone? He silenced the call without a word. In that brief moment, I caught a glimpse of his phone screen. His wallpaper was still a photo of us. Except it was in black and white. Was he mourning our dead relationship? It hit me then. The breakup, for him, was real. 6 My Melody pajamas didn't seem so important anymore. Just then, Cole finally cut my mom off. "We're about to begin the examination. I'll have to ask you to step outside, ma'am." Seeing that I had finally resigned myself to my fate, my mom gave me a few stern warnings, drew the privacy curtain, and went out to wait. As my shirt was slowly lifted, My Melody’s big, innocent eyes popped into view. I am a C-cup, for the record. Cole barely glanced at them. "Your new boyfriend has terrible taste." With my mom gone, I seized the opportunity. "He's not my new boyfriend! There's no one else. It's only ever been you!" Cole just snorted and ignored me. He squeezed a cold gel onto my stomach, and the transducer glided across my skin. My mouth was the only part of me that could move, so I decided to play the nostalgia card. "Cole, maybe it is your baby. I've missed two periods." "And the timing fits, right? That night we were together…" "Is that so?" There was no warmth in his eyes. "As I recall, we didn't go all the way that night." The doctor in the white coat suddenly leaned in close, his lips brushing my ear. His warm breath sent shivers down my spine. My stupid heart started pounding. He was so close. It felt like he was flirting. Was he going to… right here? A montage of R-rated scenes flashed through my mind.
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