Chapter 2
558 Words
The next afternoon, I stood outside Brian's private consultation room, my palms drenched in sweat. His assistant recognized me and took me straight inside.
The room was large, with an entire wall of bookshelves behind the desk. The exam area was behind a screen, already prepared with a pale blue disposable sheet.
Brian sat at his desk in a white coat over a black shirt, sleeves rolled up to his forearms, flipping through a stack of medical files. When he noticed me, he paused for a second.
"Wendy? What's wrong?" His tone stayed even.
I pressed my lips together and repeated the line I had practiced more than 20 times at home.
"Ryan sent me. He said I hadn't recovered properly after giving birth and needed you to check me."
I watched his eyes as I finished. He didn't answer right away. His gaze flicked over my face, then he lowered his head and kept going through the files. "Go behind the screen. Take off your lower clothes. Lie on the exam bed and put your legs on the supports."
Every word was medically normal. But coming from him, my ears still burned. I walked behind the screen, took off my pants and underwear, lay down, and placed my feet on the supports on either side.
A soft click sounded as he put on rubber gloves. The screen was pushed aside, and Brian stood between my legs. He wore a mask, only his eyes visible.
"Relax. Open your legs a bit more."
His voice carried no emotion at all. His gloved fingers pressed inside me gently, examining. Just that one touch. My body jerked up, then slowly settled back.
It had been exactly 92 days since a man last touched me.
Brian's hand stopped. I opened my eyes. He was looking down, his mask hiding most of his expression, nothing readable left.
He removed the gloves, crushed them, and dropped them into the bin. Then he reached over and switched off the exam light.
"Get dressed."
Tears slipped out of my eyes.
"Can it be fixed?" I sat up in panic, tugging my nightdress down, my face burning red. "Ryan said I was too loose."
"Wendy," Brian's voice turned softer.
He leaned down, planting his hands on the bed on either side of me, boxing me in.
A faint cigar scent brushed past me. His face was too close.
"Your body isn't the issue," he said, his breath grazing my collarbone. "In fact, you're tight."
My mind went completely blank. Brian straightened and walked back to his desk, pulled out a file, and handed it to me. "On the day you gave birth, Ryan checked into the ER infectious disease department. Blood tests came back positive for Treponema pallidum antibodies. Secondary stage."
I stared at the report. Three months ago, I was hemorrhaging in the delivery room while he was receiving penicillin in the ER.
Brian slid his hands into his coat pockets. "He was afraid of infecting you, so he used your so-called looseness as an excuse to push you into a divorce without assets."
A chill ran through me. "Who was it?"
"His former assistant, Tina Jones. The marital assets are already in motion—offshore trusts, with her as the beneficiary," Brian said flatly.
I clutched the report tightly. "What am I supposed to do?"
- Writer
