Chapter 9: Is It Really That Hard to Guess?
1447 Words
That evening, after her shower, Willow didn't find Adrian in the bedroom. But she caught the faint scent of cigarette smoke.
She walked out to the balcony.
"Why are you smoking?" she asked, leaning against the balcony door with a frown.
Adrian never smoked at home.
"A bit stressed." He stubbed out the cigarette.
A bit stressed... because of her?
"Sorry." He looked at her.
Willow had always hated the smell of smoke. Even though he'd immediately put it out, she still felt a wave of nausea.
She quickly walked to the bedside, picked up a glass, and gulped down water, pressing a hand to her chest to suppress the urge to retch.
Her phone chimed. She picked it up. It was a message from Dr. Harrington? Willow was surprised.
[Are you asleep?]
[Not yet. Did you need something, Dr. Harrington?]
[Nothing. I just suddenly remembered the question you asked me before. Do you have an answer?]
[Yes... I want to keep it.]
A brief pause.
[Congratulations. Feel free to reach out anytime you want to talk.]
[Thank you, Dr. Harrington. Would tomorrow work? I'd like to chat.]
[Of course.]
"Who are you talking to?" Adrian asked casually.
Willow jumped and quickly locked her phone.
"No one." She shook her head.
Honestly, Willow was a terrible liar.
Adrian stared at her phone.
"I'm going to dry my hair." Wanting to escape, Willow left her phone on the nightstand and went to the bathroom.
Adrian had to admit***** was the first time he'd ever checked someone's phone.
So he held his breath and picked up Willow's phone.
For ten years, Willow's passcode had been his birthday.
He tried his birthday.
Incorrect.
He thought for a moment and tried their wedding anniversary.
Also incorrect.
After several attempts, the phone was about to lock.
Adrian thought carefully.
Unlocked.
The corner of Adrian's mouth twitched.
The most dangerous password is the safest password.
It was exactly the kind of passcode Willow would come up with.
The screen opened to a chat with [Dr. Harrington].
Before he could read anything*?
Willow rushed over and snatched her phone back.
"How did you guess my password?!" Willow glared at him, her face flushed red, sputtering with indignation.
Wait. Was that really what she should be angry about?
"Is it really that hard to guess?" Adrian raised an eyebrow.
That insufferable, arrogant, damnably smug look.
As if to say, he knew her one hundred percent.
You'll never escape my grasp.
As if!
Willow's face burned.
"No! The point is**** could you be so low? Snooping through my phone!"
Only then did Adrian finally look somewhat caught. He touched his nose and coughed.
"Who is Dr. Harrington?" he asked.
Willow's entire body went rigid. He'd seen?
"You saw?" she asked.
That sentence alone made Adrian's face drop.
He hadn't even had a chance to look before she grabbed it. What had he seen? And that question*****'t that practically a confession?
"I didn't get a chance to see anything before you snatched it," Adrian said, his face dark.
Willow exhaled in relief.
Please! Did he think she was stupid?!
"So who is he?" Adrian waited for her answer.
"You saw, didn't you? Dr. Harrington." Willow turned away and gave him a cold smile.
Adrian nearly choked on his own blood. He hadn't seen anything, not because he couldn't read! He knew it said Dr. Harrington! So who the hell was this Dr. Harrington, messaging her at night?!
Willow went to the bed and grabbed her pillow.
"Where are you going?" Adrian asked.
"I'm not sleeping in the same bed as someone this low-class!" Willow walked out without looking back, heading to the guest room.
Adrian watched her leave without a backward glance, his jaw clenching with frustration.
Very good, little Willow. You've grown some backbone.
And so, on this day, Willow officially began her plan to sleep in separate rooms.
The guest room had already been cleaned and made up with Willow's favorite bedding. Though it was still difficult for her to fall asleep at first.
But at least it was a good start.
Willow nodded, giving herself encouragement.
So... the next day, she showed up to see Dr. Harrington with dark circles under her eyes.
"While I want to congratulate you, but... you didn't sleep well again last night?" Lucas looked at the massive dark circles still under her eyes and couldn't help but ask.
"Um... yes. It's because I slept in a new room, so it was a bit hard to fall asleep. But I'll get used to it in a few days." Willow touched her eye area, embarrassed.
Lucas handed her a glass of warm water.
"Tell me. We have plenty of time today," Lucas said.
Willow nodded.
"I actually made it into the operating room yesterday. But when the moment truly came, I knew I wanted to keep it! I'm so lonely. After the divorce, I'll be all alone... I want the baby to keep me company. And although it's strange to say this, it's like I already started loving it before it's even born." Willow's eyes grew moist.
"As I said, you need an emotional outlet. Perhaps a child is a good idea. Since you want to keep it, as your doctor, I support you," Lucas said.
"Thank you, Dr. Harrington." Willow said gratefully.
"No need to be so formal. We've talked so many times. Actually, you can think of me as a friend," Lucas said.
"Okay!"
Dr. Harrington was practically the perfect warm gentleman.
That entire afternoon, Lucas gave Willow his full attention. They talked for a long time, and Willow truly found the outlet she needed to open up.
Soon, it was time for Lucas to get off work.
"Ah, it's so late. Sorry for taking up so much of your time," Willow said apologetically.
"How could that be? You're paying me, after all," Lucas joked perfectly.
As Willow was about to leave, she "accidentally" spotted a photo on Lucas's desk.
Well, the photo was placed so conspicuously it was impossible not to see.
"Huh?" Willow seemed to have discovered something incredible.
"Dr. Harrington, you went to St. Anne's Prep?!" Willow's eyes went wide as she looked at the graduation photo from St. Anne's Prep on the desk.
Clearly, Willow didn't find it strange at all that someone would keep a high school graduation photo on their desk.
"Yes." Lucas nodded.
"So did I! And we're only one year apart! We might have seen each other in high school! What a coincidence!" Willow never imagined she'd run into a high school senior.
Lucas looked much calmer than Willow.
"Really? Then... it's quite possible," Lucas said, smiling at the Willow who seemed to have discovered a new continent.
"Since it's such a coincidence, how about I buy you dinner?" Lucas checked his watch. It was just about dinner time, so he asked naturally.
"Sure, I'll treat!" Willow was just getting hungry.
"How could I let a lady pay?" Lucas removed his white coat and gestured for her to go.
Since he was taking Willow's pregnancy into account, Lucas found a healthy restaurant near the clinic.
"Dr. Harrington, the world is truly small. We're actually alumni," Willow said, eating a light salad.
"Yes, what a coincidence." Lucas added a bit of dressing for her.
"Were you in the arts or sciences track in high school?" Willow asked.
"Arts," Lucas said.
"So was I! Then we definitely saw each other in high school!" Willow said.
"Yes." Lucas poured water for her, a hint of a smile in his eyes.
The dinner was very pleasant.
After dinner, Lucas insisted on escorting Willow home.
Willow looked at her still-flat stomach and couldn't help but laugh. Dr. Harrington was being a bit overly cautious.
"Thank you for today, Dr. Harrington. And sorry for the trouble of driving me back," Willow said.
"No trouble at all. You're my junior, after all." Lucas considerately opened the car door for her.
"Bye!" Willow waved at Lucas.
Lucas stood by the car, watching Willow walk toward the house. But he also saw someone leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, clearly in a foul mood.
Well, now the roles were completely reversed. Adrian was the one waiting at home every day for his wife to return.
But who could tell him who this man was?
"Goodbye, Willow." Lucas saw that Adrian hadn't left and called out to Willow for a response.
Adrian squinted, sizing up the man's general figure.
Fair skin, delicate features, wearing glasses, the scholarly, bookish type.
(It clearly wasn't like that!!)
Adrian was in a terrible mood.
- Writer
