I had just finished my last specialist consultation of the day when a pregnant woman barged in.
My medical assistant reminded her she needed to check in at the front desk. She rolled her eyes.
“Check in, my ass! I'm carrying the CEO of Farley Group's baby. That's all the appointment I need!”
But the CEO of Farley Group, Malcolm Farley, was my husband. Seven years married. Devoted, or so I'd believed.
She must have noticed my face drain of color, because her lips curled and she tugged her collar low, eyes brimming with triumph and provocation.
“Malcolm is insatiable, honestly. I'm already pregnant and he still can't keep his hands off me. Hickeys all over, and I've been running a low fever from all the excitement. Hurry up and examine me, would you?”
I stared at her for a long time. Then I spoke. ：“Let's start with a blood test.”
The woman gave me an unreadable smile.
“A blood test? You want to check the sex, don't you. You're even more desperate than I am to know whether this baby will be the Farley heir. Isn't that right, Mrs. Farley? Seven years and you couldn't produce a single child.”
I shook my head, expression ice.
A low-grade fever, paired with a rash that no amount of hickeys could disguise.
All I wanted to confirm was whether she had HIV.
——
“Fever? Looks more like you're in heat.”
A patient's family member who knew me happened to be passing by and couldn't hold back.
“You're pregnant, so I wasn't going to say anything, but that delusion of yours needs medical attention too! Everyone knows how much Mr. Farley adores Dr. Thomas.”
“I've only had a handful of appointments here, and every single time there's been a fresh bouquet of rare flowers flown in by Mr. Farley's people. A different arrangement every day, just to keep Dr. Thomas smiling.”
“When Dr. Thomas had a stomachache, he canceled a hundred-million-dollar deal to bring her soup himself and give her a massage.”
“Even Mrs. Farley says Amanda Thomas is the only daughter-in-law she'll ever accept. You should salvage what's left of your dignity and stop making things up!”
Those words steadied the panic spiraling through my chest.
I should trust Malcolm.
“Making things up?!”
The pregnant woman, Vivian Chambers, looked like her face might twist clean off.
“Open your damn eyes and wait. I'll bring him here myself!”
She pulled up a chat and sent a voice message. ：“Malcolm, baby, I'm at the hospital. Come quick, okay?”
A reply pinged back instantly. Vivian lifted her chin. ：“Mr. Farley says he's on his way!”
The commotion had drawn a crowd of onlookers in the hallway.
I didn't leave either, though I was only waiting for her blood work. That was my duty as a physician.
“Malcolm, baby, I'm over here!”
Vivian's face broke into a victorious grin as she waved toward the far end of the corridor.
I turned, disbelieving. And there he was. Malcolm Farley, walking toward us.
He cut through the crowd in long strides, slid his hand around her waist, and spoke in a tone that was indulgent and faintly exasperated.
“Why didn't you stay home like I told you? What are you doing here?”
Vivian pouted, playing coy. ：“It's your fault for wearing me out! I was worried about the baby, so I came to get checked. And then these people accused me of making up stories about you. Malcolm, baby, tell them. Tell them the baby's yours.”
Malcolm's gaze turned frigid. He swept the room. ：“Who has a death wish? Who dared question my woman?”
My woman.
Two words. They crushed every skeptical glance in the room into silence.
And they crushed the last shred of hope inside my chest along with them.
Malcolm finally noticed me in the corner, my eyes burning red.
A flicker of something crossed his face. It vanished almost before it registered, and he composed himself and walked toward me.
“Honey, I wasn't planning to hide this from you forever. After all, Vivian's baby will need to be raised by you eventually. You can't have children, so I had no choice but to find someone to have one for you. Everything I did, I did with you in mind. Be good. Be the bigger person.”
He spoke low enough that only I could hear. Every word landed like a fist against my ribs.
