It started with a night shift at the ER. I was doing rounds, exhausted, when I saw her. A stunning woman fighting to stay awake next to her daughter’s IV drip. She looked wrecked—messy bun, sweatpants, no makeup—but I still couldn't take my eyes off her. As I approached, the little girl blinked at me. She recognized me from her checkup a few days ago. "Dr. Ethan!" she chirped. The mom snapped awake, smoothing her hair frantically. "Oh, God. Sorry. We’re back again." The patient was Lily, a sweet kid I’d treated for bronchitis earlier that week. Maybe I’d given them a little extra attention because, well, the mom looked like she needed a break. "Where’s Dad tonight?" I asked, checking Lily’s vitals. The second the words left my mouth, I wanted to punch myself. Way to be professional, Ethan. The woman didn’t get mad. She just gave a tired, polite smile. "Oh, he’s... busy." "Right. Well, I’m on call all night," I said, trying to sound doctorly and not like a guy whose heart was hammering against his ribs. "If you need anything, page me." "Dr. Ethan, can I get your number?" Lily asked innocently. "Lily! That’s rude," her mom hushed her. "It’s totally fine. Actually, it’s better for follow-ups," I lied smoothly. I’m a pediatrician; I know how to charm kids. But let’s be real—I was charming the mom. Lily looked exactly like her. The mom sighed and pulled out her iPhone. "She doesn’t have a phone. You can add me, if that’s okay." My hands were shaking as I typed in my number. I walked back to the nurses' station sweating like I’d just run a marathon. A minute later, a text popped up: “Hi Dr. Ethan, it’s Maya. Thanks for everything.” I typed and deleted three different responses before settling on: “Call me Ethan. No problem.” I wanted to say, “Call me anytime. You look like you’re carrying the weight of the world alone.” But I didn’t have the guts. Because unlike me—a single guy approaching his mid-thirties—she had a family. Or so I thought. She didn’t recognize me. Maya. Maya Sterling. The Campus Queen of UCLA. 1. Back in college, Maya was the girl every guy dreamed about. She was effortlessly beautiful and famously unattainable. She rejected the captain of the football team. Rumor had it she turned down a guy because he didn’t play the cello. Seriously. The cello. Everyone said she was waiting for Brad, our class president—the golden boy who transferred to London after freshman year. People said she never dated because she was saving herself for him. I watched her from the sidelines for four years. We only spoke once, at the graduation party. I was the MC; she sang a ballad that made half the room cry. Liquid courage in my veins, I cornered her afterward with a cheap bouquet. "You were amazing," I stammered. "People say I kinda look like Brad, you know? Ha. Ha." I was an idiot. She just smiled that polite, distant smile. "Thanks. But the rumors about me and Brad? They aren't true." Then she vanished. Ten years later, I was still that idiot. Seeing her name on my phone made my palms sweat. I checked her Instagram—private. Of course. 2. New York is a massive city, but sometimes it feels like a small town. A week later, I walked into a Starbucks near my apartment, and there they were. "Dr. Ethan!" Lily shouted. Sitting across from Maya and Lily was another woman. "Ethan, this is my best friend, Chloe," Maya introduced us. "And Lily’s godmother." Chloe squinted at me. "Ethan? Wait. Did you go to UCLA?" "Yeah," I said, bracing for impact. "I knew it!" Chloe slammed her hand on the table. "Maya, how do you not know this? This is Ethan! The MC from graduation! One of the 'Med School Hotties'!" Maya looked at me, confused. "You were the host?" She remembered the MC. She definitely didn't remember the guy who awkwardly hit on her. "Wait," Chloe continued, loud enough for the whole café to hear. "Ethan, you don't remember Maya? How is that possible?" Maya grabbed Chloe’s arm. "Ethan, ignore her. She has zero filter. Are you meeting someone? Don't let us keep you." "Actually, I’m free," I said. "Lily, do you want to see Disney on Ice? I have extra tickets." Total lie. I would pay a scalper triple the price in the parking lot if I had to. "Yes! Can Dr. Ethan come, Mom?" Lily begged. Maya hesitated. "You should probably call him 'Uncle Ethan'." "If he comes, I'll call him whatever he wants!" And that’s how I ended up on a date with my dream girl and her daughter. We had an amazing day. Maya wore a red dress that knocked the wind out of me. We ate gelato, walked through Central Park, and for a few hours, I pretended we were a family. When I got home to my empty apartment, the loneliness hit me like a truck. I knew I was playing with fire. She had a husband somewhere. I was just the nice doctor entertaining her kid. 3. But things kept progressing. Lily started FaceTime-ing me to ask for "playdates." One weekend, Lily dropped a bomb while Maya was in the restroom. "Mom likes you," she whispered. "Don't make things up, kiddo," I laughed nervously. "I'm serious! She only wears black or white clothes. But every time we see you, she wears colors. Like that red dress." I froze. I thought back. She was right. Later that night, I dropped a sleeping Lily off at their apartment. It was the first time I’d been inside. It was stylish but cold. No family photos. No men’s shoes by the door. Just a picture of young Maya and... Brad. I couldn't take it anymore. I had to know. "Maya," I asked, standing in her kitchen. "Where is he? Lily’s dad. Why is he never around?" I expected a slap. Or to be kicked out. "He’s dead," she said quietly. My stomach dropped. "I... I’m so sorry." "It was a long time ago." Suddenly, the lack of photos, the sadness in her eyes—it all made sense. She was a widow holding onto a ghost. I did the only thing I could think of. I hugged her. And to my surprise, she melted into me. "Can I... can I pursue you?" I whispered into her hair. "We can take it slow. As long as you need." "I'm not..." she started to protest. "Shh. I don't care if you're not over him. Let me take care of you." "Why?" she asked, pulling back to look at me. "Because I’ve been in love with you for fourteen years." She stared at me. Then, she kissed me. 4. We fell into a rhythm. I was the happiest I’d ever been, but deep down, I felt like a fraud. I looked like Brad. I knew I did. Was I just a placeholder? A body double for the dead husband she couldn't forget? One night, after we’d been dating for over a year, I took her to meet my parents. My dad, blunt as ever, laughed over dinner. "I never thought Ethan would settle down. He told us years ago he’d stay single forever if he couldn't have 'The One'." "Why did you say that?" Maya asked me on the drive home. "Because of me?" "Yeah." She looked at me with that familiar expression—guilt. Whenever she looked at me like that, she would initiate sex. And she did, that very night. Passionate, desperate, like she was trying to make up for something. "You don't have to," I told her afterward. "I know you still love him. It's okay. I'm okay with being the second choice." "You think you're the second choice?" She looked confused. "I'm just happy to be here." I decided to propose. I bought a ring. I planned a surprise party for her birthday with Chloe. I was ready to lock this down, even if I was just the consolation prize. 5. Two days before her birthday, I went to pick her up from work. And I saw him. Brad. The Golden Boy. He was standing outside her office building. Maya ran to him, laughing, and hugged him tight. They looked so... right.
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