No Longer the Doctor of Her Lovers

When my wife, Celeste Harrington, sent her seventh young lover to me for a penile augmentation, her friends made bets on how quickly I would lose my mind. But even after the light over the OR door went off, nobody heard me fall apart. "Celeste, that's the seventh guy now. What if your husband is actually angry enough to stop speaking to you?" one of her friends asked. Celeste shrugged. "He can't have children with me, and I've got a family empire to pass on. Sooner or later, I'm going to have a baby with another man. Why not keep a few men around now so he gets used to it? I get to enjoy myself, too." I stepped out of the OR, my expression unreadable, and delivered the usual announcement. "Congratulations. The operation was successful." Celeste approached with a smile. "Nice work." Then she handed me a divorce agreement. "Sign it, will you? It's just for show. This guy refuses to have a baby with me unless I divorce you. Once the baby's born, we'll raise it together. Nobody will dare call you less of a man when you're raising a child." I'd played along with this humiliating routine six times before. This time, I signed without hesitation. Then I turned around and said yes to someone else's proposal. Celeste had apparently forgotten one important detail: I wasn't infertile. The problem was the genetic risk of having a child with her. All I needed was a different partner. Why had she ever assumed I'd be generous enough to raise her lover's baby? Chapter 1 Adrian's POV I'd barely handed Celeste the signed agreement when Nolan Pierce was wheeled out of surgery. Celeste shoved past me to reach him. Pain tore through my abdomen. Days earlier, I'd taken a knife to the stomach rescuing her from kidnappers, and the wounds still hadn't healed. Nobody noticed. Everyone crowded around Nolan, asking how he felt. I braced myself against the wall and made my way back to my office. The miscarriage report on my desk blurred as my eyes filled with tears. Celeste had suffered another miscarriage while sleeping with her seventh lover. That was the third child I'd lost. While I was still grieving, she had ignored my warnings and insisted on taking Nolan to an opera at the very theater where she and I had first fallen in love. Her enemies had seized the opportunity, abducting her and taking her to a remote island. I'd been stabbed three times getting her out. Yet just three days after I'd been moved out of intensive care, she had dragged me from my hospital bed at three in the morning, all so I could perform a lengthening procedure on her newest lover. With tears in her eyes, she'd pulled me toward the operating suite, her voice breaking. "Adrian, I got carried away. Nolan's so young. If he's permanently injured down there, his whole life will be ruined. "I'm begging you." So I'd changed into my scrubs without a word. No shouting. No accusations. None of the frantic, desperate fights we'd had the previous six times. I didn't sob until I could barely stand, ready to hang up my white coat and be branded an unethical doctor rather than set foot in the operating room. I simply wheeled him into the OR and treated him like any other patient. After ten years with Celeste, I knew the difference. This time, she'd actually fallen for him. My fingers drifted over the photograph on my desk. Celeste was grinning straight at the camera. Her face was bruised, one leg encased in a cast, and she somehow looked happier than anyone I'd ever seen. I slid the picture out of its frame with shaking hands. On the back, in her wild, slanting handwriting, she'd written, "Celeste Harrington and Adrian Vale. Together forever." It was the day I'd turned eighteen. My gambling-addicted mother had tricked me into going to a private club. Celeste had come to rescue me and been beaten so badly that she broke her leg. She never got back into the kickboxing she loved. And yet, in the hospital, she'd insisted on taking that photograph with me to celebrate my birthday. "I saved your life," she'd teased. "So now you have to marry me." I ran my thumb across her smiling face. "You saved me once, Celeste, and I've lost three children," I murmured. "We're even." I tore the photograph into pieces and dropped them into the trash. Someone knocked. Celeste came in and immediately noticed the empty frame. "Where's our picture?" Before I could answer, she thrust her phone toward me, practically glowing with excitement. "Adrian, what do you think Nolan and I should name our baby?" The names on her screen made my chest seize. She'd spent night after night searching through baby-name books to choose them for our first child. One of those names was now engraved beside a perpetual memorial candle in a chapel. She'd even forgotten the name of our baby. I studied her face: the tender smile, the warmth in her eyes, the unmistakable joy at the thought of becoming a mother again. Only then did I understand that she had truly forgotten. Our son had been with us for only thirty-seven days. He'd been born fragile because of an inherited genetic illness, and he hadn't survived his first winter. "Adrian?" Celeste's smile faded when I didn't respond. "I thought you'd finally come to your senses. I've explained this a hundred times. My position means I need an heir. If you love me, you should understand that..." "Use this one," I interrupted quietly. I pointed to a name on her screen. Celeste froze. She opened her mouth, but a noise from the doorway cut her off. Chapter 2 Celeste's assistant, Owen Brooks, stood awkwardly in the doorway. "Ms. Harrington, Mr. Pierce is asking for you." Celeste snatched back her phone. "Oh, and I only changed my profile picture to keep Nolan happy," she added hurriedly. "It's temporary. I'll change it back. Don't make a big deal out of it." Then she was gone. I watched the doorway long after she'd disappeared. I changed the matching profile picture I'd used for ten years and unpinned Celeste's chat. What she didn't know was that I'd already given the signed divorce papers to my attorney to file with the court. In a month, the divorce would be final. There wouldn't be a "later" for us. After arranging for a colleague to take over my cases, I returned to my hospital room. A bowl of seafood chowder sat on the bedside table. The nursing aide smiled when she saw me. "Your wife really does love you. She sends you chowder every single day, without fail." I looked at the unfamiliar woman and smiled back. "You're new here, aren't you?" Everyone else in the hospital knew that I'd operated on one lover after another for my wife. My marriage had become their favorite subject of gossip. And this was supposed to be love? It wasn't even Celeste who brought the food. She had Owen bring it. That was Celeste all over: efficient, considerate, attentive to every detail. She always remembered to send her husband something comforting while she spent the day with another man. Before the aide could answer, I handed her the bowl. "Please throw it away. I'm allergic to seafood." Her expression changed. She took it and hurried out. Almost immediately, a message arrived from Celeste. "Did you have the chowder? I ordered it especially for you." My fingers stilled over the screen. I remembered the first time she'd cooked for me. She'd clumsily written down everything I liked in a little notebook. When she brought out dinner, her hands were covered in small cuts and burns. I'd been heartbroken to see them, but she'd laughed it off. "Well? I told you I'd learn to cook for you. You thought I was bluffing?" I'd seen what Celeste was like when she loved me, so I knew better than anyone how little effort she bothered to make now. For years I'd clung to her anyway, forcing myself to watch her go from one man to the next because I couldn't bear to let her go. I was done. If she wanted to have a child with somebody else, she could. It no longer had anything to do with me. I didn't reply. For once, I fell asleep without lying awake for hours, though nightmares still followed me. When I woke that afternoon, Celeste was sitting beside my bed, frowning at my phone. "Why did you change your passcode?" "Why are you here?" I asked instead. A heavy cloud of another man's cologne clung to her. I instinctively turned my head away. Celeste noticed and frowned, but she restrained herself. "You didn't answer my message." She almost sounded hurt. I remembered the promise we'd made years ago: whenever one of us saw the other's message, we'd reply right away if we could. At some point, our conversations had become nothing but my unanswered messages. The last time she'd replied to me was a month ago, and she'd done it from a secondary account. "I was asleep," I said. "Didn't see it." She hesitated, then finally spoke. "Nolan wants a wedding." I turned toward her. "Adrian, could you give him the wedding you've been planning?" For a moment, I could only stare. We'd been married seven years, but her family had never supported our relationship, so we'd never had a wedding ceremony. She'd promised that, no matter what happened, we'd finally celebrate on our seventh anniversary. I'd spent so long preparing for it. Our anniversary had come and gone. The wedding had been postponed again and again. The first time, she'd claimed she had to travel for business. In truth, she'd taken her first lover abroad on vacation. It had been only three months since our first child died. Around the same time, the doctors had warned us that our genetic combination put any child we conceived at risk of a devastating inherited condition. That was when Celeste started cheating. Chapter 3 The second wedding date had fallen apart when three younger men Celeste was keeping showed up together and made a scene, turning me into the laughingstock of our entire social circle. Before the third, she'd forced me to perform procedures on the men she kept on the side, indulging another of her humiliating whims. After that, one lover followed another through my operating room. Arguments and screaming matches became ordinary parts of our life. Eventually, without ever discussing it, we stopped mentioning the wedding at all. I'd waited ten years for a ceremony I never got. Nolan had asked once, and it was his. Suddenly, every year I'd spent fighting for Celeste, hesitating, forgiving, and refusing to walk away felt like one enormous joke. My eyes burned, but I managed a small smile. "Sure. He can have it." Celeste looked stunned. She obviously hadn't expected me to agree. She took my hand gently. "Adrian, I know this isn't fair. I promise we'll have the perfect wedding someday." I slipped my hand free. "I'm tired." I closed my eyes and stopped responding. Perhaps out of guilt, she didn't get angry. Instead, she tucked the blanket around me. "Get some sleep. I'll stay with you tonight. The whole night." I said nothing. Five minutes later, her phone rang. She rose almost before the first ring ended. "Nolan? What's wrong?" she murmured. I felt the air shift as she walked away. Opening my eyes, I watched her disappear. Then I looked down at the texts Nolan had sent me. "You're divorced. Pack your things and get out. Stop freeloading in the house Celeste and I share." "You're too old for this pathetic innocent-act routine. Still trying to seduce somebody else's wife?" "Want to bet I can snap my fingers and make Celeste come running?" I glanced toward the door and gave a humorless smile. Of course she wasn't coming back tonight. Nolan had updated his social media account. In the photo, Celeste knelt on one knee, washing his feet. His caption read, "Can't move after surgery. Good thing I've got the CEO herself to take care of me." He'd tagged me deliberately. Underneath, Celeste's friends were calling him her future husband as if they already welcomed him into the family. I recognized every person who'd liked or commented on the post. Celeste had introduced Nolan to her relatives and friends a long time ago. I was the only one left out. In the past, I would have stormed into an argument over it. This time, I simply liked the post and turned off my phone. I didn't care about Celeste anymore. Why would I care whose feet she stooped to wash? The next morning, Nolan barged into my hospital room. He threw a copy of the divorce settlement at my face. "What gives you the right to take half of Celeste's assets?" His face twisted with fury. "She promised everything she owns would belong to our son! You're not stealing a cent of my money!" I took my time picking up the pages and looking them over. "I'm afraid you're going to be disappointed." I met his glare. "The apartment you're living in is in my name, too." Then I added, "I forgot to answer your message last night. You're the one who needs to move out." Nolan's face went scarlet. "You bastard!" He pointed a finger inches from my nose. "You can't even give her a baby, you sad excuse for a man! You're a jinx. You've buried three kids, and you still think you deserve her money? Maybe your kids died because you were such a greedy piece of trash!" Blood roared in my ears. Before I knew it, I'd punched him in the face. A split second later, someone slapped me hard enough to fill my mouth with the taste of blood. Celeste pulled Nolan into her arms, her eyes blazing. "How dare you touch him?" Chapter 4 But when Celeste saw the blood at the corner of my mouth, she instinctively released Nolan. Panic flashed in her eyes. "Adrian, are you all right? I didn't mean to..." She took a step toward me, but Nolan clung to her arm, looking devastated. "Celeste, I only came to thank Adrian for doing my surgery. "I didn't expect him to wave your divorce papers in my face and call me a home-wrecking bastard." He covered the side of his face and pretended to shrink away. "I told him we really love each other. That's when he hit me. He even said I had to get out of his apartment." Celeste's expression darkened. Nolan lifted his chin just enough to give me a smug, challenging look. Without hesitation, Celeste grabbed me and dragged me out of bed. "Apologize to Nolan, Adrian." I landed on the floor and looked up at her. And then I laughed. "What did he say that wasn't true? Why should I apologize? "Oh, wait. One thing was wrong. Nolan doesn't even rank as the other man. He's more like the seventh." "You...!" Nolan clutched his groin and groaned dramatically. I struggled to my feet, gave Celeste a cold look, and started limping toward the door. Nolan's wailing grew louder. "If Adrian won't even apologize, what happens when people call our baby illegitimate? "I might as well be dead!" A hand clamped around my wrist. Celeste looked at me with open disgust, as if I were her enemy. "Apologize," she said flatly. Then, in a rapid whisper, she delivered her threat. "Don't forget that your grandmother is still in a private hospital suite. My medical connections are the only thing keeping her alive." She took out her phone and called her assistant, Owen. "Suspend production of the specialty medication. Effective immediately." I stared at her. She knew Grandma was the only family I had left in the world, and she was still holding her life over me just to appease Nolan. Celeste checked her watch impatiently. "If I remember correctly, without that medication, her condition will deteriorate within three days." My legs felt like lead. Slowly, I turned back. I forced the words through clenched teeth. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that." Nolan leaned against her, looking timid. "He doesn't sound sorry. Does he mean it? "He hit me, and that's it? No punishment? My face still hurts." At some point, Celeste had called in her security guards. One kicked the back of my leg. My knees slammed against the floor, and cold sweat broke out across my forehead. Celeste looked down at me. "Kneel and apologize to Nolan. Slap yourself a hundred times. You can get up when he's satisfied." I stayed still. She immediately made another call. Grandma's voice came through the speaker. "Celeste, is that you? Where's Adrian?" "Don't!" I lunged forward, seized the phone, and ended the call. "Please don't tell Grandma. Her heart can't take it. "I'll apologize. I'll do it." So I knelt outside the hospital room and struck my own face again and again. "I'm sorry," I repeated, over and over. People passed along the corridor, stopping with delighted curiosity to watch the spectacle. I lost count of the blows. My cheeks swelled until I could barely feel them. Nolan covered his mouth in an exaggerated yawn. "Celeste, I'm sleepy." She instantly took his hand. As they walked past me, she said coldly, "Consider this a lesson. Stop picking on Nolan." I collapsed onto the floor. I don't know how long I lay there before someone poured urine over me. "That's the unethical doctor who slapped a patient three days after surgery!" "Wait, isn't he the doctor whose CEO wife cheated on him seven times?" "He's even on TV! I didn't realize he was this awful." I heard the television inside a nearby room. My blood turned to ice. I forced myself upright and ran for Grandma's suite. Doctors and nurses were rushing around her bed. On the television, a recording showed me kneeling in the corridor and slapping myself. Grandma opened her eyes when she saw me. She gripped my hand with surprising strength. "Adrian. You should never have to kneel for anyone. Leave her, sweetheart. Don't let me be a burden anymore." Her eyes widened. Then her breathing stopped. I held her motionless body against me, unable to let go. Eventually, a shadow fell across us. "I'm sorry," a familiar voice said. "I got here too late." My own voice came out raw. "My grandmother is dead. None of them gets to walk away from this." I looked up, my eyes burning, and smiled. "How would you like a stake in Harrington Holdings?" ... Third-Person POV Elsewhere in the hospital, Celeste had finally coaxed Nolan to sleep, but the unease in her chest wouldn't fade. She called Owen. "How is Adrian?" Owen sounded frantic. "Ms. Harrington, we have a crisis! Your husband dumped all his shares in the company at a steep discount. The stock price is collapsing..." At that moment, Celeste glanced at the monitor by the nurses' station, where the morgue's release list was scrolling past. One of the names was Ruth Vale.