He Claimed He Was Single

The clip of Austin knocking back drinks on Piper’s behalf at the gala went viral overnight. The comment section was drowning in romantic frenzy: "The way he looks at her in a crowded room… that’s pure, unspoken devotion!" "God, he’s gorgeous. That protective energy is off the charts! My new favorite couple." Unable to swallow the bitter knot in my throat, I left a comment under the post: "The man in the video is my boyfriend. The woman is just a childhood friend." The internet wasted no time tearing me to shreds. "Where did this bitter woman crawl out from? If I were him, I’d choose the pretty girl too." "It’s just an atmospheric video. Why are you so possessive and insecure?" "It’s because of women like you that men have to cut off lifelong female friends!" My brow furrowed as I watched the notifications pile up. Just as I went to swipe out of the app, a fresh notification flashed across the screen. It was Austin’s profile picture. "I am currently single." The words struck me like a physical blow. A cold numbness spread from my chest straight to my fingertips. I lifted my head, my neck stiff, and looked across the table at Austin. His expression was dark with irritation. "Leaving a petty comment like that makes people think Piper is a homewrecker. How many times do I have to tell you to stop making a fuss over everything she does?" I lowered my gaze, staring at the condensation dripping down my water glass. "I won’t make a fuss anymore," I thought. "Never again." … Piper bounded over with her phone in hand, smacking Austin playfully across the shoulder. "What’s with the single bachelor persona, Austin? Not satisfied with the girlfriend I set you up with?" She tossed her hair, flashing a teasing smile. "Let me tell you, plenty of men are lining up for Dr. Leah. If you don’t treasure her, someone else will happily take her off your hands!" Hearing her playful scolding, Austin’s scowl melted into an affectionate laugh. "All right, all right, my mistake," he coaxed, pulling out a chair for her. "Go grab something to eat first so your stomach doesn’t flare up again later." Piper hummed a smug little note and turned toward the dessert station. The moment she walked away, the warmth in Austin’s eyes vanished, replaced by a chilling frost. "Even Piper goes out of her way to stand up for you," he said, his voice dropping into a sharp whisper. "You’re her therapist, yet you spend every waking second keeping score against her. Don’t you feel ashamed?" Before I could open my mouth, a few of Austin’s friends walked over, clinking their glasses and calling him over. "It’s the grand opening of your girlfriend’s private therapy practice! As the proud boyfriend, aren’t you going to down a few rounds with us?" Another chimed in with a smirk, "If you don’t drink, we’re dragging Piper into the circle instead." Even his friends knew the exact leverage to use. The threat wasn't losing me; it was inconveniencing Piper. Austin chuckled, but the next second, his hand pressed firmly against the small of my back, giving me a sudden push forward. "Let Leah drink with you guys! Her tolerance is incredible. She’ll drink the whole table under the floor!" I stumbled, catching myself against the edge of the linen-draped table. A sudden, uninvited memory flickered through my mind. When we first started dating, Austin had landed a major promotion. At his celebratory dinner, people had tried to pour drinks down his throat, and I had offered to step in and take a glass for him. Back then, Austin had gently caught my wrist, his eyes soft and brimming with care: "What kind of guy lets his girlfriend take shots for him? Drinking too much ruins your health. I could never let you do that." And now, he was shoving me directly into the line of fire just to shield Piper. My hands trembled as I clenched them into tight fists at my sides. I didn't reach for the glass being thrust toward me. The air grew instantly awkward. The smile faded from Austin’s face. He leaned down, his voice low and dangerous against my ear. "Do you really have to throw a tantrum right now?" My lips parted, dry and tight. "Two days ago, you insisted I eat that undercooked green bean casserole Piper brought over. I ended up in the emergency room getting my stomach pumped for food poisoning. The doctor told me no alcohol for at least a week." Austin froze. A beat of silence passed before he clicked his tongue dismissively. "I forgot." The men around us laughed, teasing Austin for having the memory of an old man. I turned and walked toward the restroom without another word. I leaned over the porcelain sink, splashing cold water onto my face. In the mirror, my reflection looked pale, hollow, and utterly exhausted. A quiet, self-deprecating laugh caught in my throat. He hadn't forgotten because he was careless. He forgot because I wasn't the woman living in his heart. When Piper accidentally knocked over my laptop and corrupted months of critical patient case files, Austin blamed me for leaving my computer out. When I was working fourteen-hour days and collapsed from low blood sugar, Austin slapped the warm soup out of my hands because Piper had missed her medication window, demanding I rush across town immediately to soothe her panic attack. Afterward, he would always pull me into his arms, using that tender, suffocating tone: "Leah, I only see Piper as a little sister. You’re her doctor, but you’re also going to be her future sister-in-law. Can’t you just be the bigger person?" And so, time after time, I let love hold me hostage. When I stepped out of the restroom, Austin was nowhere to be seen in the main hall. I asked a server, who told me he and his friends had slipped into the private Emerald Lounge to rest. I walked over. Just as my fingers brushed the polished brass handle, voices drifted through the crack in the door. "You’ve been with Leah for over a year now, Austin. What’s the next move? She’s got a thriving career now—all that’s missing is a ring on her finger." My hand froze on the handle. Austin’s casual, mocking laugh floated out: "What plans could I possibly have? You guys know the drill. I only pursued her in the first place so she’d put her heart into curing Piper’s depression." Someone asked, "And now? You’ve been together a year." Austin went quiet for a long moment. On the other side of the door, every second felt like a slow blade carving into my chest. Then came Austin’s airy scoff, completely detached: "Even if it’s just a stray dog, you develop feelings after keeping it around for a year." The room erupted into loud, appreciative laughter. Slowly, very slowly, I lowered my hand. I stood in the dim corridor for a long time, the silence pressing against my ears like deep water. Then, I turned and walked away. Back in the banquet hall, I forced myself to smile, to shake hands, to exchange pleasantries with colleagues and guests, even as my fingernails bit into the palms of my hands until warm blood pooled in the creases. Austin never returned. By the time the event wound down, my phone buzzed with a solitary text: "Piper isn’t feeling well. I’m driving her home. Call an Uber yourself." I stared at the screen, an empty, humorless laugh escaping my chest. Whenever Piper was in the room, Austin’s universe shrank until she was the only thing visible. It was past midnight when Austin finally unlocked the front door. He set a sleek, boxed ergonomic lumbar cushion on the coffee table in front of me. "Leah, you sit during sessions all day, and it ruins your lower back. This cushion is top-of-the-line. It’ll help." If this had happened a week ago, my heart would have melted. Now, I took a slow, deep breath, looking straight into his eyes. "Austin, let’s break up." The easy smile on his face instantly fractured, turning into raw fury. "All this over that stupid comment? If you hadn’t posted something that made everyone think Piper was a homewrecker, would I have needed to do damage control?" He glared at me. "Leah, do you treat our entire relationship like some kind of disposable joke?" My face remained pale, completely devoid of expression. In this entire world, Austin was the last person who had the right to accuse me of being careless with love. He pinched the bridge of his nose, his voice thick with impatient exhaustion. "I’ll pretend you’re just throwing a tantrum this once. Don't let me hear such irresponsible nonsense again." He paused, looking around. "By the way, how is Piper’s progress? Is the treatment working?" I waited two beats, the corners of my mouth curling into a bitter smirk. In the end, it was always about Piper. I walked into the study, retrieved a manila folder from the desk, and handed it to him. "After the last two months of clinical observation and assessments, I can officially confirm that Piper has fully recovered from her major depressive disorder. Her clinical treatment is concluded." Austin frowned, eyeing the documents with overt suspicion. "So soon?" That tone of distrust made a sudden surge of anger burn in my veins. "Piper’s condition was never severe to begin with," I said, my voice icy. "Under normal circumstances, her therapy should have wrapped up six months ago. You’re the one who refused to let it go and dragged it out until now." Austin still looked unconvinced. Clutching the file, he turned toward the study. Just before the door clicked shut, I caught a glimpse of his screen lighting up as he dialed. The contact name read: "Piper the Little Vixen." In the dead of night, after I had barely drifted into a shallow sleep, a violent pounding at the front door jerked me awake. Groggily, I stumbled to the door and pulled it open. Standing under the hallway light were Austin and Piper. Austin had his arm wrapped tightly around Piper’s trembling shoulders. Piper looked up at me, tears streaming down her face, her voice choked with sobs. "Dr. Leah, why are you terminating my therapy early? I’m not cured! I’m still sick!" Before my sleep-fogged brain could process what was happening, Piper whipped around, grabbing Austin’s shirt with both hands. "Is it because Dr. Leah thinks you have feelings for me? Tell her! Tell her she’s the only one you love! Say it!" Austin’s arm was bruised from where her nails dug in, yet his voice remained agonizingly tender as he cradled her head. "Okay, okay! I love her. Can you please go home and get some sleep? Dr. Leah herself said you need plenty of rest." "I don’t believe you! You’re lying! You’re all lying to me!" Like a woman possessed, Piper shoved past me and tore into my bedroom. Glass shattered. Perfume bottles crashed against hardwood. And then, she reached for the nightstand, snatching up a silver-framed photograph. It was the only family photo I had left of my parents before the car accident took them. "Don’t touch that!" I lunged forward to stop her, but I was a second too late. The frame slammed onto the floor, the glass shattering into jagged shards. Blinded by grief, I pushed Piper back. But before she even hit the mattress, Austin surged forward and shoved me with full force. I collapsed hard onto the floor, my palms landing squarely across the bed of broken glass. Sharp agony bloomed instantly; warm blood spilled over the floor and soaked into the torn photo. Piper began pummeling Austin’s chest, her fists landing softly, theatrically. "How could you push Dr. Leah for me! Now she’s going to misunderstand us even more!" I sat frozen on the floor, cradling the ruined photo to my chest, blood dripping from my shredded palms. Piper’s wails grew louder, piercing the quiet room. "Tell Dr. Leah you love her! Prove it to her right now! Prove it!" My ears were ringing. Dizziness washed over me in waves. In the next instant, Austin dropped to his knees, his hand clamping like a vise around my jaw. He forced my head back and slammed his mouth brutally against mine. My mind went entirely blank. In our entire year of dating, the most physical intimacy Austin had ever allowed was holding hands—and even then, I was the one who had to initiate it. Last Valentine’s Day, caught up in the romance of a quiet dinner, I had leaned in to kiss him. He had recoiled as if I were carrying a contagion. "Leah, I want to wait until our wedding night. It’s the ultimate sign of respect I can give you." I had believed he was simply traditional and guarded. As both his partner and a psychologist, I had chosen to honor his boundaries. Even my business partner at the clinic, Tara, had sighed in awe: "Where do you find a guy with morals like that in this day and age? You hit the jackpot, girl." And now, this pristine, untouched man was pinning me down, kissing me with frantic, violent intensity—all because Piper demanded a performance. I began to thrash violently. The physical disparity between a man and a woman became a terrifying reality. Austin pinned both of my wrists above my head with one hand, his other hand still bruising my jaw, his lips crushing mine until I couldn't draw breath. The metallic tang of blood flooded my mouth. This wasn't a kiss. It was an assault. I kicked, I fought, hot tears spilling down the sides of my face. Beside us, Piper clapped her hands, her face glowing with triumphant delight. "Look how cute Dr. Leah is when she’s being shy!" she chirped. "Seeing you two so deeply in love makes me feel so much better." Austin finally pulled away. Looking down at my disheveled hair, my bleeding mouth, and the vacant horror in my eyes, a fleeting shadow of guilt flickered across his face. He reached down, his thumb wiping a streak of blood from my lip, but then he immediately turned his back to me to soothe Piper. "Feel better now? Come on, let me take you home. It’s late, your parents must be frantic." Piper nodded obediently, looking back at me with a sweet, innocent smile. "Goodnight, Dr. Leah! Get some rest!" As they reached the front door, Piper’s voice drifted back down the hallway: "Hey Austin, that ergonomic chair you bought me… didn’t it come with a free lumbar cushion? I didn't see it in the box." "The seller probably forgot to pack it. I’ll leave them a bad review." The cushion sitting on my coffee table wasn’t a thoughtful gesture. It was a leftover freebie from Piper’s gift. I sat motionless on the cold floor, from the middle of the night until the first pale grey light of dawn cracked through the blinds. When I finally gripped a chair leg to pull myself up, a sickening wave of pins and needles shot through my numb, stiff legs. Ignoring the pain, I cleaned the blood from my hands, bandaged the cuts, and drove straight to the clinic. I sat down with Tara and laid out everything that had happened with Piper. Tara nearly flew into a rage. "Even if her depression hadn’t cleared up, that’s not how clinical depression presents!" Tara slammed her coffee cup onto the desk. "She’s using psychological distress as an excuse to terrorize you and mark her territory! Austin is a senior investigator for the Department of Public Health—how can a man that sharp be blind to her games?" I shook my head slowly. Austin wasn't blind. He chose not to see. When you favor someone unconditionally, you will invent a thousand excuses to justify their cruelty. None of it mattered to me anymore. "Archive Piper’s case files immediately," I said quietly. "Finalize her discharge paperwork and lock the records. If we don’t close her file today, this nightmare will never end." Tara nodded firmly. "You got it. We’re done with her." We had just finalized the digital submission when my phone screen lit up with Austin’s name. Tara glanced at the caller ID and snorted. "Well, at least he has enough of a conscience to call and apologize." I swiped to answer and put it on speaker. Before I could breathe, Austin’s furious voice exploded through the receiver: "Leah, how could you be so utterly vile? Trying to trigger an artificial dissociative identity disorder in Piper? Using a vulnerable patient as a clinical experiment—do you realize I can have you thrown in federal prison for this?" Before Tara or I could comprehend his words, the office doors were violently kicked open. Piper’s parents barged into the room, their faces contorted with rage. "You sick bitch! How dare you ruin our daughter!" "She’s screaming that she’s an alternate personality you created! She claims she isn’t our child anymore!" Piper’s mother screamed in my face while her father drew a hunting knife from his jacket, lunging straight toward my desk. Our building security tackled the father just in time, pinning him to the carpet. In that chaotic split second, Piper’s mother pulled a steel craft scalpel from her purse and slashed wildly at my face. Tara threw herself forward, shoving me backward. I tumbled to the floor, narrowly dodging a fatal blow to my throat, but the sharp blade tore across my left cheek. A searing line of fire bloomed across my skin, followed by a rush of hot, blinding blood. Between the sleepless night, the physical trauma, and the sheer terror, the room spun violently, and darkness swallowed me whole. When I opened my eyes again, an agonizing throbbing radiated from the left side of my face. I turned my head with great effort. Austin was sitting by the hospital bed, quietly peeling an apple with a paring knife. "Leah! You’re awake!" He gently helped me into an upright position. "The plastic surgeon said the cut went deep and will likely leave a permanent scar. But don’t worry—I’m not a shallow man. I’m still going to marry you." He paused, testing the edge of his knife. "Of course, the wedding will have to wait until Piper makes a full recovery. I’m going to find an internationally renowned specialist to take over her case." I parted my dry lips, trying to speak. Austin sliced a piece of apple and held it against my lips. "Leah, I need you to sign a formal liability waiver and drop all charges against Piper’s parents." He looked at me with unblinking certainty. "They’re elderly. The county holding facility has terrible conditions. We can’t let them sit in a cell any longer." A vast, echoing void opened in my chest. I kept my lips tightly pressed together, staring at him with cold detachment. Austin’s brow furrowed in displeasure. "You’re still refusing? Don’t forget, we still hold the evidence of your unauthorized clinical experiments on Piper." "We?" I rasped, the word tasting of ashes. In his mind, he and Piper’s family were the "we." I had always been the outsider. "I never… did that," I whispered, every word pulling at the stitched flesh on my cheek. "I will not confess to a lie." Austin’s eyes turned glacial. "Your doctoral dissertation was on the environmental triggers of secondary trauma-induced identity fragmentation. I found those exact research drafts in your office files." He leaned closer. "Combined with Piper’s official testimony, how much credibility do you think you have left?" I wanted to tell him that having a published academic specialty didn't equate to medical malpractice. Austin didn't give me the chance. "If you refuse to sign the waiver, I will personally use my authority as head of medical compliance at the Department of Public Health to suspend your clinic’s operations and launch a formal inquiry to revoke your license." He brought the apple slice back to my mouth, his voice dropping into a smooth, affectionate purr. "That practice isn't just your life’s work, Leah. It’s Tara’s livelihood too, isn't it?" A bone-deep chill gripped my spine. Looking at Austin’s handsome, familiar face, all I felt was profound terror. He had become an absolute stranger. In that singular moment, I understood that I had no cards left to play. I opened my mouth and swallowed the apple. The chewing motion pulled violently at the fresh stitches in my cheek, sending sharp, rhythmic pulses of pain through my skull. Austin smiled, satisfied. "That’s my good girl. Once you sign the waiver, we’ll move forward with our engagement. We’ll go to Tahiti, just like you always wanted, and I’ll buy you that black pearl bracelet you’ve been eyeing." I said nothing. I simply closed my eyes. I was discharged at noon. True to form, Austin booked me an Uber. He claimed he had to head straight to the precinct to escort Piper’s parents out and take them to a restorative dinner, so he couldn't take me home himself. The moment the car pulled away, I texted Tara and told her to meet me at my apartment. In my quiet study, I picked up a pen and signed my name on the equity transfer agreement. Tara bit her trembling lip, tears spilling over her lashes. "Leah, are you insane? You’re signing over your entire fifty percent stake to me for a single dollar? You built this practice from the ground up!" I offered her a faint, weary smile. "Because I built it, I refuse to let it burn down with me. If my name is completely erased from the paperwork, Austin and Piper have no leverage left to hurt you." Tara wrapped her arms around me, sobbing into my shoulder. "I’m taking you to the airport." …… Meanwhile, Austin arrived at the hillside luxury resort with Piper and her parents. He walked up to the front desk, instructing the manager to prepare the private Emerald Suite—the room Leah always favored. The manager blinked, looking puzzled, before offering a polite smile. "Of course, Mr. Rhodes. Though, to be honest, Ms. Leah didn't seem to care for that suite. During the opening gala, she stood right outside the door for nearly ten minutes without ever coming in. I assumed she disliked the decor." Austin frowned. "During the gala?" "Yes, sir," the manager replied cheerfully. "You were inside having drinks with your groomsmen and friends at the time." Austin froze. The blood drained from his face in a sickening rush. Suddenly, the memory of that afternoon crashed over him—the casual, arrogant words he had tossed out to preserve his bachelor pride: "I only pursued her in the first place so she’d put her heart into curing Piper." "Even if it’s just a stray dog, you develop feelings after keeping it around for a year." A terrifying, icy panic seized Austin’s chest. Without a single word to Piper or her parents, he bolted out of the hotel lobby, threw himself into his car, and sped toward their apartment like a madman.