I asked my handsome doctor for a prescription, but I didn’t realize he was the man who saved my life three years ago
Part 1
I never imagined the universe had a sense of humor until I walked into dermatology consultation room one.
My face felt like it was on fire from a sudden peanut allergy flare-up.
Cool air blasted from the ceiling vents as I pushed the heavy oak door open.
A man in a crisp white coat stood by the counter, reviewing a chart with sharp, focused eyes.
My breath hitched in my throat.
It was him.
Three years had passed, but I recognized the strong jawline and the intense gaze immediately.
He was the stranger who had pulled me from the freezing ocean when I nearly drowned.
My heart performed a frantic gymnastics routine against my ribs.
I stepped closer, clutching my purse like a shield.
Doctor, do you remember me?
He didn’t even look up from his clipboard.
No.
The flat rejection stung worse than the hives spreading across my cheeks.
Could I have your number?
His pen stopped moving.
He finally met my gaze, his expression completely unreadable.
Don’t waste your time on me.
I’m not interested in you.
A bitter laugh escaped my lips before I could stop it.
I don’t even know your full name.
He turned away, adjusting a row of medical samples on the counter.
Megan.
Aren’t you the actress who stole your best friend’s man?
The accusation felt like a physical blow.
My career had been in ashes ever since Heather spread those vicious lies.
She had taken my boyfriend, then spun a web of deceit that left me completely ostracized from the industry.
Now, the only man I had thought about for three years was judging me by a tabloid headline.
I lifted my chin, forcing my voice to remain steady.
You saved me once.
Give me a month.
I’m going to prove you wrong.
He offered no response, just handed me a prescription for the rash.
The slip of paper felt heavy in my hand as I walked out of the clinic.
Days turned into weeks, and I refused to give up.
I found excuses to return to the hospital, hovering near the cafeteria and the gardens.
Slowly, I learned his name was Craig.
He maintained a wall of absolute ice around himself.
Every attempt I made to break through was met with polite, infuriating indifference.
I needed a distraction from the rejection.
My old agent Tyler finally threw me a lifeline.
He agreed to sign me to his firm, paying off my termination fees from my old ruinous contract.
There was just one major catch.
Tyler slammed the thick legal document onto his glass desk.
While you are under contract, you cannot date anyone.
The irony was almost suffocating.
I signed the papers without hesitation, knowing my career was the only thing I could control.
My first gig back was a supporting role in a medical drama.
The production team insisted the actors shadow real doctors to prep for the roles.
Fate apparently decided to have another laugh at my expense.
The hospital assigned Craig to supervise my research.
He looked less than thrilled when I showed up in his department wearing a visitor badge.
I promised to stay out of his way.
He simply pointed to a chair in the corner of his office.
Sit there.
Don’t touch anything.
I spent the entire afternoon watching him work.
He treated his patients with an unexpected, profound gentleness.
The cold exterior melted away whenever he spoke to a nervous child or an anxious elderly woman.
My admiration for him deepened with every passing hour.
I noticed a small teddy bear tattoo on his wrist when he rolled up his sleeves.
It was identical to the one I had gotten on my ankle years ago.
A strange warmth blossomed in my chest, but I pushed the thought away.
During a break, another doctor named Brian pulled me aside in the hallway.
Brian spoke in a hushed, urgent tone.
Craig used to be the best surgeon in this hospital.
My brow furrowed in confusion.
He’s a dermatologist now.
Brian glanced over his shoulder before continuing.
Five years ago, a patient died on his table.
Everyone blamed Craig, but it was a setup.
A rival surgeon named Dan swapped the adrenaline for water.
The revelation hit me like a bucket of ice water.
Craig wasn’t just cold; he was broken by a horrific betrayal.
My own experience with Heather’s lies made a fierce protective instinct surge through my veins.
I had to help him.
Brian and I started digging quietly, piecing together rumors and old schedules.
We discovered Dan had hidden the security footage from that night.
Dan’s office became our primary target.
I waited until the hospital was quiet, creeping through the dimly lit administrative wing.
My heart hammered against my ribs with every step.
The door to Dan’s office was unlocked.
I slipped inside, my phone flashlight cutting through the gloom.
Drawers squeaked as I opened them, searching frantically for a flash drive or a tape.
My fingers brushed against a small metal box hidden behind a stack of medical journals.
I pulled it out and popped the lid.
A sleek black USB drive sat inside.
Got it.
A heavy hand clamped down on my shoulder.
I spun around, dropping the box.
Dan stood in the doorway, a cruel smile twisting his features.
His eyes darted to the drive in my hand.
You shouldn’t be snooping around, Megan.
The air in the room suddenly felt dangerously thin.
He took a slow step toward me, blocking the only exit.
I backed away until my spine hit the edge of the mahogany desk.
