Help, My Gynecologist Is Obsessed With Me
I had to go see a gynecologist. My period was late again.
I booked a specialist whose name sounded very feminine, Jessie Lloyd.
Jessie seemed pretty popular. I was number 35.
On the day of the appointment, I sat in the waiting area, scrolling my phone screen now and then, occasionally glancing up to check the queue.
Then, I noticed something strange.
Why did every woman coming out of the consultation room look so radiant, no matter her age?
Jessie had to be insanely good. That was what I thought.