Cruel Love Back in His Hands

"Babe, wear something nice tonight. I'm taking you somewhere special."

Kristine read George's text and her heart did a little flip. Two years together and he still gave her butterflies. She was only eighteen, fresh out of high school, but George made her feel like the most important person in the world. He was twenty-five, brilliant, finishing his medical residency at the top of his program, and somehow he had chosen her.

"Where are we going?" she texted back.

"It's a surprise. Just trust me. I love you."

She spent two hours getting ready, changing outfits four times before settling on the blue dress he loved. Her hands shook as she applied mascara. Something felt different about tonight. Bigger. Her mother had given her a knowing smile when she came downstairs, like she could sense what was coming.

George picked her up at seven, looking handsome in dark jeans and a button-down shirt. He was nervous. She could tell by the way he kept adjusting his watch, the way his knee bounced as he drove.

"You're making me anxious," Kristine laughed, reaching for his hand. "Where are we going?"

"You'll see." He kissed her knuckles. "Just a few more minutes."

They pulled up to Harborview Rooftop, an upscale restaurant overlooking the Boston Harbor. Kristine had mentioned wanting to come here once, months ago, and he had remembered. The host led them through the crowded dining room and out onto the rooftop terrace. String lights hung overhead, and the city sparkled below them.

"George, this is beautiful."

"Only the best for you." He pulled out her chair, and they settled in. Dinner was perfect. The food, the wine, the conversation. George kept looking at her with this intensity that made her skin warm. Like he was memorizing her face.

"I need to use the restroom," Kristine said after they finished dessert. "Don't go anywhere."

"I'll be right here."

She wound her way back inside, past the bar area toward the restrooms. The hallway was narrow and dim. As she rounded the corner, she froze.

George stood pressed against the wall. And Claire Townsend, the resident he worked with, had him cornered, her body flush against his, her mouth on his.

Kristine could not breathe. She just stood there, ten feet away, watching her boyfriend kiss another woman in the hallway of the restaurant where he had just taken her for their special night.

Then George's hands came up to Claire's shoulders and he shoved her backward hard.

"What the hell are you doing?" His voice was sharp, angry.

But it was too late. Kristine had already seen everything she needed to see. The fact that they were here, in this hallway, while Kristine had been sitting alone at their table.

Claire's eyes slid past George and landed on Kristine. A slow, satisfied smile spread across her face. "Oh. Sorry. Did we interrupt something?"

George spun around. His face went white. "Kristine, wait, this isn't what it looks like."

"Really?" Kristine's voice shook. "Because it looks like you brought me to a nice restaurant so you could sneak off and make out with your coworker in the bathroom hallway."

"She kissed me! I was walking back from the bar and she just grabbed me and I was pushing her off when you—"

"I saw enough." Kristine turned and walked back toward the dining room, her vision blurring with tears.

"Kristine, please!" George followed her. "She's lying, she's been trying to break us up for months, I swear to God I didn't kiss her back!"

Claire appeared behind them, her face a picture of false concern. "George, you don't have to lie to her anymore. We've been seeing each other for weeks. Just tell her the truth so we can all move on."

"That's bullshit!" George's voice rose, drawing stares from nearby tables. "Kristine, you know me. You know I would never do this to you. Please, just listen to me for one second."

But Kristine was already grabbing her purse from their table. She could not listen to this. And stand here and let him make excuses while Claire stood there smirking like she had won some kind of prize.

"Don't follow me. Don't call me. We're done."

"Kristine!" George reached for her arm but she jerked away.

"I said don't touch me!"

She ran. Through the restaurant, down the stairs, out onto the street. The cool night air hit her face and she kept running until her feet hurt, When she finally stopped, gasping for breath on some random corner blocks away, she pulled out her phone with shaking hands and blocked his number. Then she deleted every photo, every text, every trace of him from her phone.

George stood on the rooftop terrace, his hands in his hair, his chest heaving. Claire had disappeared. The other diners were staring. The small velvet box was still in his pocket, the ring he had spent three months saving for, the proposal he had planned down to every detail.

And the woman he loved had just walked out of his life thinking he had betrayed her.

"Sir?" The waiter approached cautiously. "Is everything alright?"

"No." George's voice was hollow. "Everything is not alright."

He called her seventeen times that night. Every call went straight to voicemail. He texted until his fingers cramped. Nothing went through. She had blocked him. He drove to her apartment and her mother answered the door with red eyes.

"She doesn't want to see you, George. I think you should go."

"Please, just let me explain what happened."

"She told me what she saw. I think you've done enough."

The door closed in his face.

For weeks, he tried everything. He showed up at her work. He sent letters. He asked mutual friends to talk to her. But Kristine Davis had vanished from his life as completely as if she had never existed. Eventually, after months of silence, George stopped trying. The hurt turned into something bitter. She had not even given him a chance to defend himself. Probably she had not trusted him enough to hear his side. Maybe she had never really loved him at all.

Five years later, everything had changed.

"Miss Davis? Miss Davis, the doctor is ready for you now."

Kristine looked up from her phone in the waiting room, wincing as another cramp seized her lower abdomen. "Sorry, yes, I'm coming."

She followed the nurse down a sterile hallway into examination room three. The pain had been getting worse for weeks now, bad enough that she had finally dragged herself to see a gynecologist. Her regular doctor had retired and referred her here, to some specialist everyone raved about.

"Just change into the gown and the doctor will be right in," the nurse said cheerfully.

Kristine changed quickly, the paper gown crinkling as she climbed onto the examination table. God, she hated these appointments. So awkward and vulnerable. At least it would be over soon.

The door opened.

"Good afternoon, I'm Dr. George and I'll be..." The voice stopped abruptly.

Kristine looked up......My Ex?