My Boyfriend is My Doctor

Episode 70 Michael Bans Marnie from Doing Literally Everything

The moment Marnie woke up the next morning, she knew she was under strict orders. Michael had transformed into a forcefield of overprotectiveness overnight, and nothing—nothing—was going to escape his notice.

She blinked at the sunlight spilling through the curtains, the condo eerily quiet except for the faint hum of the city outside. The twins were already awake—she could feel them shifting against her belly—but even their gentle kicks were enough to trigger Michael’s inner alarm system.

“Good morning, Mrs. Co,” he said from the doorway, clipboard in hand, a slight crease on his brow as he observed her. “How are you feeling?”

“I… I feel okay,” she replied hesitantly, sitting up.

“Okay is not good enough,” he said immediately, striding toward the bed. “You’re carrying twins. You are not doing anything strenuous today.”

Marnie raised an eyebrow. “Strenuous? I was just going to get some coffee and maybe feed the fish.”

“No.” His voice was final, leaving no room for negotiation. “I will make the coffee. You will not touch a kettle. The fish will be fed after breakfast by me. Or, better yet, by someone else.”

Marnie groaned, throwing the blanket over her face for a moment. “Michael…”

He crouched in front of her, taking her hand gently but firmly. “No excuses. You are not bending, lifting, reaching, or anything that requires muscle strain today—or any day for that matter until the twins are born. You understand?”

“I… yes, Michael,” she said with a small laugh, realizing she was already smiling despite herself. He was serious, but the intensity of his worry was almost… adorable.

“Good.” He pulled out his phone, opening a spreadsheet. “I have made a list. It starts with breakfast preparation, followed by laundry, window cleaning, and ends with vacuuming. None of these are allowed for you to do today.”

“Michael!” she exclaimed, sitting up straighter. “I can help myself! I don’t need you to do everything.”

“You do not understand!” he said, voice rising slightly. “Every time you do even a little thing, it stresses the twins! You’re carrying two tiny humans! Your body is the only home they have! They cannot protect themselves, and neither can you fully. That’s why I will take care of you.”

Marnie blinked, astonished at his fervor. “Take care of me… or take over the condo?”

“You heard me correctly.” He leaned closer, lowering his voice to a dangerous whisper. “From this moment on, you will do nothing that requires lifting, bending, reaching… anything that risks either your health or theirs. Understand?”

“I… understand.” Her voice was quiet, almost resigned, but the corners of her mouth threatened a smile.

Michael’s face softened, though only slightly. He took her hand in both of his and pressed a kiss to it. “Good. That’s settled.”

Marnie sighed and leaned back against the pillows, already imagining how this would play out. The man had gone full-on protective mode—something she had thought would have faded after the early labor scare, but clearly, this was only the beginning.

Breakfast Debacle

Breakfast was an entirely new experience that morning. Michael insisted on preparing everything, carefully measuring portions, blending fresh fruit smoothies, and even arranging the plate so it was visually appealing.

“You’re doing too much,” Marnie said, watching him carefully slice the strawberries into perfect halves.

“I am protecting you and the twins,” he said, snapping his head toward her, tone sharp but not unkind. “If you do even a fraction of the work, they might misbehave, and then I’ll blame you.”

Marnie laughed, the sound mingling with the soft drizzle outside. “Michael… you’re impossible.”

“I’m also right,” he countered, sitting down across from her with a small bowl of fruit. “You will eat. You will not lift anything. You will enjoy your breakfast while I ensure the environment is completely safe for the twins’ development. That includes making sure no sharp objects, slippery surfaces, or heavy plates are within your reach.”

Marnie watched as he hovered over her like a guardian angel—if angels had clipboards and obsessive attention to detail.

“Do you realize you’re micromanaging my life now?” she asked, attempting a teasing tone.

“I’m not micromanaging,” he replied with deadly seriousness. “I’m ensuring survival.”

She couldn’t help but smile, shaking her head. “You’re going to kill me with overprotectiveness before the twins even arrive.”

“You will thank me later,” he said simply. “And you will obey me.”

The Living Room Takeover

By mid-morning, Michael had effectively banned Marnie from touching anything heavier than a teacup. Laundry baskets were whisked away by him before she could protest. Her attempt to fluff the pillows on the couch was met with him appearing instantly behind her.

“Stop!” he said. “The twins might hear you lifting them! Or worse, you might strain your back!”

Marnie froze, hands mid-air. “I… I wasn’t lifting anything heavy!”

“Everything counts!” he said, pointing to the couch cushions as if they were dangerous objects. “Your back, your belly, your circulation! I cannot risk it!”

She blinked at him. “Michael… you’re serious.”

“I have never been more serious in my life.”

By noon, Marnie realized she had not done a single thing with her own hands that morning. Even small tasks—fetching a glass of water, adjusting the curtains—were blocked by Michael’s constant presence. He followed her wherever she went, constantly reminding her of potential hazards, from slipping on wet tiles to lifting a grocery bag heavier than a teaspoon.

Marnie was torn between amusement and exhaustion. The man had gone completely overboard, yet she couldn’t deny a strange warmth in the pit of her stomach. This was love… fierce, unyielding, slightly suffocating, but undeniably protective love.

The Panic Moments

By mid-afternoon, Marnie decided to sneak into the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea. She carefully avoided Michael, who was engrossed in reorganizing the pantry—again. She reached for the kettle.

“Marnie!” Michael’s voice bellowed from the doorway, making her jump.

He strode toward her, grabbing the kettle with a firm grip before her hands could even touch it. “This is heavy. Do not lift it!”

“It’s just tea!” she protested.

“For you, it’s heavy! For me, it’s perfectly manageable.” He handed her a cup already filled with hot water. “Here. Sit. Drink. Survive. Enjoy.”

Marnie took the cup, laughing despite herself. “You’re impossible.”

“I’m protective,” he corrected, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. “And this is love. You will remember this when the twins kick for the first time and I’m not there.”

She rested her head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. “I can’t believe you’ve banned me from doing literally everything.”

“I haven’t banned you,” he said. “I’ve legally prohibited you from doing anything that could harm you or the twins. There’s a difference.”

Evening Restrictions

By evening, Michael had introduced a new rule: no cooking, no laundry, no bending, no lifting, no vacuuming, no reaching, no household chores—essentially, Marnie was relegated to lounging, eating, and taking care of the twins’ moral development by talking or singing to them.

“You’re turning our condo into a maternity fortress,” she said as he adjusted a blanket over her legs while she read a book.

“And it’s working,” he replied, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You are safe. They are safe. You are not allowed to argue about it.”

Marnie laughed softly, shaking her head. The man had taken over her life completely—but she could feel his love in every word, every gesture, every obsessive precaution.

“You’re like a controlling father, a soldier, and a knight rolled into one,” she teased.

“And I am your husband,” he said firmly. “The twins’ father. The protector. And, until they arrive, the person making all decisions for your survival.”

Her heart fluttered. “I feel… loved.”

“Good,” he said, smiling faintly. “Because I’m not stopping. Not for a second. Not for a day. Not for anything.”

Marnie buried her face in his chest, the warmth, the security, the obsession—it was suffocating, but in a way that made her feel completely safe.

Michael wrapped her in his arms, the twins shifting inside her as if acknowledging their father’s vow.

“You are forbidden from doing anything besides existing peacefully,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her temple.

And for the first time that day, Marnie allowed herself to completely relax—knowing she was utterly, completely, unconditionally under Michael’s watchful eye.