My Boyfriend’s Dad Is My Gynecologist のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 161 - チャプター 170

BethA couple of weeks had passed since Stacy’s “dream,” and things had settled into something resembling normal again. He’d been sleeping better, more relaxed, and only occasionally checked to make sure his pants were zipped before walking into a room—so, progress.I’d asked him a few days ago if we should tell Levi we didn’t need him anymore. Not because I didn’t like having him around—honestly, it was kind of nice having a live-in bodyguard who doubled as an extra pair of hands—but because I did feel safe again. Tommy was gone. Madison was locked away. Our baby was healthy.But Stacy just said Levi seemed a little lost since coming back, and he didn’t want to toss him into more instability. So Levi stayed. On payroll. On call. And… in a weird way, part of the family now.Which is how I ended up with a personal chauffeur again for this morning’s appointment.I waited by the window, sipping my smoothie and tapping my foot like a restless teenager waiting on an Uber.Levi pulled up rig

StacyBeth’s perfume still lingered in the hall when I stepped back into my office. I hadn’t even shut the door behind me before Whitney slid in like a damn shadow with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.“We need to talk,” she said, closing the door herself.I didn’t sit. “Make it quick.”She folded her arms. “I’m pregnant.”I blinked. “Congratulations.”“It’s yours.”Silence. Thick. Instant. My spine stiffened.“I’m sorry,” I said slowly, “did you just say your baby is mine?”Whitney’s expression didn’t change. “That’s exactly what I said.”I exhaled through my nose. “Right. For one—I’ve never touched you. And for two—I have a wife I love deeply, and I wouldn’t touch another woman even if you were the last warm body on earth. Especially not one that works for me.”She tilted her head. “That’s not what I’ve heard. Word around the clinic is you already crossed that line—with Beth. Didn’t she used to work for you?”I braced both palms on my desk. “She worked for a separate marketing fir

BethThe clinic was dark by the time we pulled up. No cars in the lot. No lights on except the low hallway strips.It should’ve felt eerie.But all I felt was ready.Stacy unlocked the side door with his badge and let me in first. He didn’t speak. Neither did I. There was nothing to say that wouldn’t spill over. Nothing that could soften what we were walking into.He led me to his office, flipped on the monitor near the corner cabinet, and typed in his credentials. The security app loaded with a quiet ping, bringing up a week’s worth of timestamped thumbnails.His fingers hovered over the keyboard.“What day was it?” I asked.He didn’t look at me. “Wednesday. Two weeks ago. The day I came home and told you about the dream.”The one I’d tucked away.The one I’d believed.He clicked into the folder and scrubbed through until he found the afternoon window. 2:14 p.m.“There,” I said. “Start it there.”The video opened full screen. Wide angle. Slight fisheye distortion. No audio.Fast forw

Beth“I swear to God, Beth. One more detail and I’m gonna rip this napkin in half like it’s her weave.”Rachel had already downed half her mimosa and was practically vibrating in the booth across from me.I, on the other hand, was as calm as the iced decaf in my hand.“She drugged him?” Rachel hissed again. “Drugged. Him. And had the audacity to record herself giving discount porn star energy while he was unconscious?”I sipped my coffee.Rachel slammed her hand down on the table. “HOW are you this calm right now? I’m ready to drive over there, snatch her up by her weave—because you know that hair ain’t real—and stomp her ass right through the tile.”I raised an eyebrow. “You can take the girl out of the hood…”She smirked and leaned in. “But you can’t take the hood out of the girl.”“You know that’s right.”I smiled into my coffee and stirred it gently. “But listen. Losing our minds about this is exactly what makes things go sideways. She thinks she’s playing chess? She doesn’t even

 BethThe day dragged like a Sunday sermon in heels.Merge Dragons got me through the morning. Thank the gods for puzzle-based dopamine loops. I nested on Stacy’s office couch with a pillow behind my lower back, one under my knees, and a fleece throw I found in his cabinet that absolutely belonged to a menopausal patient from 2009.But around noon, I hit the wall—ran out of energy in the game and patience in my body. I switched over to YouTube, volume low, subtitles on. Watched a random video about this woman who built her dream chicken coop from a pile of discarded pallets and sheer spite. Honestly? Inspiring.The world outside Stacy’s office didn’t matter much.Inside, I was just… waiting. Still. Sharp. Ready.Around one, the DoorDash driver texted that our order was dropped off. Adam beat me to the front—probably had the app open with radar precision. He came back with a b