Chapter 2

When those words hit me, it was like an invisible hand suddenly gripped my heart.

It wrenched and crushed, ravaging me until I could barely breathe.

I was on the verge of suffocating from the pain. My tears threatened to fall uncontrollably.

I dug my nails into my palm, forcing myself to focus on the report. I said, "Mr. Fisher, your report is fine.

"But your fiancée lacks hepatitis B antibodies. She needs to get vaccinated."

Stan fixed his gaze on me, silent for a long time before his lips finally parted. "Thank you, Dr. Dotson."

"You're welcome, Mr. Fisher," I replied.

Just three days ago, Stan was texting me, sending me pictures.

Now, he was a total stranger, like we'd never even met.

After I handed over the paperwork, Stan left with the girl on his arm.

The girl was buzzing around Stan like a cheerful little bird, talking non-stop. "See, honey? I told you everything would be fine."

After they left, the exam room fell quiet again.

When I opened my palm, I saw bloody crescent marks where my nails had dug in.

Angad noticed something was off with me and quickly poured more hot water into my cup.

"Dr. Dotson, what's wrong? You look really bad..." she asked.

I shook my head and forced a smile that was more pitiful than tears. "I'm fine. Probably just didn't get enough sleep last night."

Since I felt so awful, I decided to take half a day off.

The moment I stepped into the parking garage, I bumped into Stan and her fiancée, Maryann again.

I took a deep breath, ready to turn and leave.

Maryann spotted me right away. "Dr. Dotson, is that you?" she called out.

I could only turn around and stop. That was when I suddenly realized she was wearing the trench coat.

Seeing me staring at her coat, Maryann explained, "Actually, this is Stan's old coat.

"I kept telling him I wasn't cold, but he wouldn't take no for an answer and made me wear it.

"He's always fussing over me like a little old man. He hasn't changed a bit after all these years."

Maryann pretended to complain, but it was clear she was just showing off.

My eyes burned, and before I knew it, I blurted out, "So, you guys have been together for ages?"

Maryann glanced up at Stan, her face glowing with pride like a peacock. "Absolutely. Stan and I met back in college in the States.

"You wouldn't believe how sweet he's been to me all these years.

"When I was on my period, he'd buy much medicine. If I had a fever, he'd cool me down with a wet towel and stay up with me the whole night.

"Even in that regard..."

Maryann stepped closer, her cheeks flushed, and leaned in so only I could hear.

She said, "He knows I'm afraid of pain, so even after nearly seven years, he's never even touched me. He said he wanted to save it for our wedding night."

Maryann's words were like a dull blade, cutting slowly through my heart.

So it started that long ago.

Noticing my silence, Maryann waved her phone at me. "Oh, Dr. Dotson, why don't we add each other on WhatsApp?

"That way, if I ever feel off, I can just reach out to you for advice."

"Alright, that's enough, Maryann," Stan suddenly cut in.

His voice was calm, but there was no room for argument. It was a clear, firm refusal.

"Dr. Dotson is off work now. Let's not trouble her any further," Stan said. "Goodbye, Dr. Dotson."

Their figures quickly vanished into the parking garage.

I couldn't hold back anymore; my tears finally fell.

I was seventeen when I first met Stan.

He was always at the bottom of the class, a carefree guy who spent all his time playing basketball.

I was the quiet, reserved student, always blending into the crowd and keeping to myself.

By some stroke of luck, we ended up sharing a desk.

Most days, I'd help him with tricky math questions, and in return, he'd share his snacks and comics with me.

Before long, we became good friends. Just how close, you ask?

Whenever someone else tried to ask me a question, he'd shoo them away.

He'd say, "Hey, back off. Ramona's my seatmate. If you wanna talk to her, you gotta get my permission first."

I'd just smile and put up with his adorable bossiness.

After the SAT, we naturally ended up together. We even promised to attend the same university.

But when it came time to fill out our college applications, Stan vanished without a word.

Three days later, he finally showed up looking for me.

Under the camphor tree, Stan stood there, his eyes red and puffy.

"Ramona, I'm sorry," he said. "I can't go to the same university as you. My family's sending me overseas."

I didn't get mad. In fact, I was honestly happy for him.

With his grades, there was no way he'd make it into a decent college here. Going abroad was actually the best thing for him.

But he just looked so down. He murmured, "But if that's the case, we won't get to see each other for a long time."

Seeing the way his brows were all scrunched up, I thought for a moment, then gathered my courage, stood on tiptoe, and pressed a shy kiss to his cheek for the very first time.

"It's alright." I reassured him softly. "We can still call, write letters, and I'll come visit you whenever I can."

"You mean it?" Stan asked, hope flickering in his eyes.

"I mean it," I promised, my voice steady and sure.

When I made that promise, Stan finally let out a breath and the worry faded from his face.

After that, we stuck together every minute, making the most of the time we had left.

The night before he went abroad, we had a few drinks.

With the alcohol kicking in, Stan buried his face in the crook of my neck, his breathing a little shaky.

He whispered, "Ramona, I'm leaving tomorrow. Before I leave, could you give me a gift?"

I mentally calculated how much allowance I had, then asked cautiously, "What do you want? A watch, a pen, or..."

Before I could finish, Stan let out a quiet chuckle.