Semua Bab My Boyfriend’s Dad Is My Gynecologist : Bab 91 - Bab 100

BethI didn’t even realize I was doing it.One hand fluttered a piece of paper in front of my flushed face, like some old-timey southern belle trying not to swoon on a front porch swing. The other gripped my phone as I replayed the TikTok reel we’d just shot.Stacy’s slow turn to the camera. The perfectly timed smirk. That damn lab coat moving like it had no right to move.Yeah. It was too hot in here.“Is it warm in here to you?” he asked from across the room, brow raised.My heart stuttered. “Something like that,” I mumbled without thinking.And then wanted to hurl myself directly into the recycling bin.Before either of us could follow that up with something truly regrettable—or delightful—my phone buzzed.Tommy.Oh, thank God.And also… not thank God.I slid my thumb across the screen and tried to erase every trace of the look I knew I’d been wearing seconds earlier. My smile shifted into something tighter, thinner. One of those “I’m fine, everything’s fine” grimaces you give when

BethI used to care about eyeliner.Not the thick kind, just enough to make my eyes look awake. Like I’d slept more than five hours. Like I wasn’t quietly falling apart in between commutes and coffee breaks.Now? I barely remembered to brush my hair before leaving the apartment.This morning, I stood in front of the mirror and stared at the same shirt I’d worn last week—gray, a little stretched at the neckline, but clean enough. That was the bar lately. “Clean enough.” “Quiet enough.” “Calm enough to not set him off.”I didn’t even notice when Tommy started leaving more and more of his stuff here. First it was a toothbrush. Then socks in the laundry. A drawer in my dresser. One morning I opened the fridge and saw his favorite beer next to my almond milk, and it hit me—I never said yes. I never said, sure, make yourself at home, move right in, take over the space I built for myself.But here he was. Always here.And I kept telling myself it didn’t count. That because I hadn’t given him

StacyDinner started like any other.We met at a little Italian place halfway between our apartments—neutral territory, linen napkins, fake candles in glass jars. Tommy was already seated when I arrived, leaning back in the booth like he didn’t have a care in the world.He smiled when he saw me. Easy. Relaxed.Too relaxed.“Hey, old man,” he said, standing to clap me on the shoulder. “Long time.”I smiled back. “Long time.”We ordered drinks. Water for me. Beer for him. The server didn’t even ask for his ID—charm, confidence, or maybe just a habit. Tommy had always been good at pretending to belong.“So,” I said once the server left. “How’ve things been?”“Oh, great,” he replied, reaching for the bread basket. “Work’s good. Beth’s great. We actually moved in together.”My pulse ticked.“Oh really?” I asked, keeping my tone light. “That’s a big step.”“Yeah, well… it just kind of happened. I was over at her place all the time anyway. It made sense, y’know? Nothing really changed.”I no

BethThe door clicked shut.And the apartment went quiet in a way that felt unbearable.I lay there for a long time after that. Long enough for the sheets to cool. Long enough for the smell of steam and soap to fade. Long enough for the reality to sink in—not all at once, but in waves.This wasn’t an argument.This wasn’t a misunderstanding.This wasn’t “a rough patch.”This was something else.Something I didn’t have a name for yet, but my body already knew.When I finally sat up, my limbs trembled like I’d just woken from a nightmare I couldn’t remember. I pulled the blanket around myself and stared at the door, half‑expecting it to open again.It didn’t.That was somehow worse.I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood too fast, the room tilting briefly before settling. My skin felt tight. Wrong. Like it didn’t belong to me anymore.The bathroom light was too bright when I flipped it on.I turned the sink faucet all the way to hot and shoved my hands under the stream, scru

BethThe knock came soft.Not loud. Not demanding. Just firm enough to be intentional.My stomach dropped anyway.Every muscle in my body locked, breath stalling halfway in as dread rushed up my spine so fast it made me dizzy. My eyes flicked to the door, my heart already racing like it knew something I hadn’t caught up to yet.No.Not again.My first thought was stupid and immediate—I didn’t hear the lock turn.Tommy didn’t knock.Tommy never knocked.If it were him, the door would already be opening. The sound of keys. The casual invasion. The certainty that he belonged wherever he decided to be.The knock came again.Same rhythm. Controlled. Patient.I swallowed and forced my feet to move, each step toward the door feeling like I was walking into deep water. My hands were shaking when I reached it. I stood on my toes and leaned in, pressing my eye to the peephole.And there he was.Stacy.Standing just outside my door, shoulders squared, jaw tight—not angry, not rushed. Just… there