Chapter 3: Doctor Wilson 

Candice was stubborn by nature. When everyone told her she shouldn’t pursue Rufus, she did. Now that he wanted a divorce, she dug her feet in and waited to see what the horrible couple would do next. 

Seeing that they couldn’t reach an agreement, Rufus became coldly violent toward Candice. That weekend, he packed his bag and prepared to leave, but Candice stopped him at the door. 

“You’re actually going to divorce me?” 

Rufus had an ugly expression. “Or what? Should I keep the shame of you cheating on me for the rest of my life?” 

Candice moved in closer. “I’m the wronged party here, and you’re going to punish me?” 

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to!” Rufus was too anxious to pay much attention to her words, slamming the door behind him as he left. 

Candice hadn’t expected him to be such a talented actor. He perfectly portrayed the role of a victimized husband. What he didn’t know was that despite the lengths he had gone 

through to frame her, the muscled man hadn’t succeeded. 

From first love to their sham of a marriage, Rufus had played Candice as a fool for three entire years. She was determined to seek justice. 

It was time to ask Nancy for help. 

Nancy worked for a detective agency. She was an expert at following people, either catching cheating wives or collecting evidence of cheating husbands. She had made a lucrative profit in her business. 

Candice asked her to follow Rufus and Rita and get photographic evidence of their affair. 

Nancy couldn’t believe that Candice, who had always been madly infatuated with Rufus, had come to her senses. “You‘ re so funny, finally directing your own internal affairs.” 

*** 

There was a cafe next to the hospital where Candice routinely picked up Rufus’s prescriptions. She stopped by in the afternoon in order to avoid suspicion. She’d continue to give Rufus his medication, whether he wanted to take it or 

not. 

As she was ordering her food, the sudden gleam of 

headlights momentarily dazzled her. She looked over, confused. 

It was him. 

She could just make out the man’s face, his prominent Adam’s apple hidden under a black collar. His eyes looked even darker in the cloudy gray daylight. He had smooth skin and an intriguing profile. 

It was especially hard not to notice a man with such a good bone structure. 

A beautiful young lady stepped out in front of Jaguar, desperately saying, “Enos Rogers, don’t you try to hide from me!” 

The man had been about to get out of the car, but he retracted his legs and lit a cigarette instead. 

Enos was the other man in the car. He turned off the engine and got out of the driver’s seat. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” 

The girl took out a sheet of lab results and shook it in his face. “I’m pregnant with your baby, you bastard.” 

Enos pushed her away. “Are you kidding me? I’ve had a vasectomy. You should have done your research before you 

tried to fleece me.” 

The other man in the car continued to savor his cigarette, gazing at Candice through the cafe window. She pretended not to notice. 

Enos finally dismissed the girl and angrily opened the passenger door. “Two dates and she expects me to take care of her.” 

The man put out his cigarette and headed straight for the hospital entrance. “You shouldn’t touch women with bad intentions.” 

Enos raised his chin in the direction of the cafe. “You can’t seem to take your eyes off her. Who is she?” 

The man looked up again for a moment before lowering his eyes. “That woman.” 

“Which woman?” Enos asked. 

The man acted like it wasn’t a big deal. “The woman I slept with.” 

Enos laughed. “Her? Hey, what was she like?” 

What was she like? 

She had been inexperienced, but he couldn’t let her go. Her waist was very thin and soft, eyes drunken and misty. She had looked quite pitiful. Her unconscious innocence and sincere feelings had been a delight, just perfect. Most women who saw themselves as seductive were deliberate in their actions, but their boldness only served to turn him off. 

Perhaps he’d expected too much. He hadn’t experienced the intense feelings he’d anticipated, so he felt disappointed. The memory of Candice naturally faded. He kept his face emotionless. “Nothing special.” 

“How did she compare to others you’ve had?” 

“Which others?” he asked distractedly. 

Enos was at a loss for words. “Which ones do you remember?” 

“I’ve forgotten almost all of them,” he replied. 

Enos followed him into the hospital. “You’re too picky. Vicky Cooper was crazy about you. I’m sure you can’t get her out of your mind.” 

Nancy elbowed Candice as she watched the man’s retreating silhouette. “What are you looking at?” 

She glanced back at her friend. “Oh, just an acquaintance. I 

don’t know him well.” 

It was true. All she knew about him was his thick hair and the mole on his abdomen, nothing else. 

Halfway through the meal, Candice received a call from an unfamiliar number. “Are you Rufus’s family? You should come to the hospital.” 

The man’s voice sounded familiar, but Candice couldn’t remember where she’d heard it before. She asked who the caller was, but he didn’t reply and simply ended the call. 

Doctor Frank was Rufus’s usual doctor, so Candice made her way over to his consultation room. She didn’t see anyone there, so the nurse on duty took her to the next room over. As soon as she walked through the door, her gaze landed on the man in the middle of the room. 

He had his back to the window, and it was hard to make out his face against the backlit light. She could only make out a vague outline, so she stepped to the side. Then everything became clear. 

There was a sign on the man’s desk: Doctor Byron Wilson. 

The city was home to more than ten million people, too many to ever meet in a lifetime. Since he had never called to collect her debt, Candice had assumed she would never 

again see him. 

The first time they had met, Byron had worn a plain black shirt that made him seem both mature and wild. His back and chest had been sweaty. Candice couldn’t remember many details, but she remembered his sweaty sex appeal. 

This time, he was in a clean white lab coat. Standing in the sun, he appeared crisp and gentlemanly. 

She felt inexplicably guilty, standing there in a dilemma. 

Doctor Frank was also there, and he introduced her enthusiastically. “This is Doctor Wilson, the top specialist in the department. I’ve referred your husband to him for treatment.” 

Byron nodded indifferently, not even sparing a glance for her. 

Candice gave him a polite greeting. “Doctor Wilson.” She didn’t say anything else. 

His fingers tapped rapidly on the keyboard. Candice couldn’t help but remember how those calloused hands had felt that night as they caressed her body and rested on her rear. She had felt electrified, stirring up feelings she’d never 

experienced before. 

 

It was an indescribable tension and excitement. 

The more she thought about it, the more uncomfortable she became. But Byron seemed completely at ease, asking the usual questions. “Have the two of you slept together recently?” 

Candice instantly blushed. “Four days ago.” 

Bryon unhurriedly opened Rufus’s medical records. “I’ll ask him.” 

Candice blushed even more. “We’re rarely intimate…” 

He swept his eyes over her meaningfully. “Do you react to being physically close to him?” 

Rufus hadn’t touched her in all the time they’d been married. He rarely even gave her hugs or kisses. She could barely open her mouth. “Occasionally.” 

Byron raised an eyebrow. “You don’t have sex, even if you’re in the mood?” 

She was annoyed. “That has nothing to do with his condition. I’d like to maintain my privacy.” 

Byron’s tone remained as calm as ever, but he once again 

got straight to the heart of the matter. “If privacy is your concern, why did you seek out medical advice? If you don’t cooperate with me, I can’t solve the problem.” 

Candice had no choice but to be honest. “He’s been under a lot of stress, so he doesn’t follow through.” 

Byron shook his head. “Self–delusion.” 

Byron was indeed an expert in his field, and expensive too. Candice had only been in his office for a short while, but there was more than one patient in his waiting room when she left. 

Byron finished writing the prescription, but he didn’t hand it to her right away, sliding it into the bottom of his stack of papers. “Your husband is not sick. Remind him to exercise restraint. The quality of his lab samples is poor.” 

Rose could feel the eyes of the other men in the waiting room on her and clenched her fists in shame. 

Byron walked past her to address the next man. “What are your symptoms?” 

The man stammered as Bryon put on a fresh pair of gloves. “Head inside.” 

Candice sat in the waiting room. She vaguely heard Byron 

The man responded that it was a minute or two. 

Byron lifted the curtain and walked back out. “Severe impairment.” 

Candice’s ears were on fire as she looked away, pretending to stare down the hallway. 

The man complained that his medicine wasn’t working and begged Byron for help. 

Byron responded seriously. “If you can’t hold out, then pause for a few seconds to watch.” 

Candice thought to herself that she had never met another man like Byron. He looked so decent on the outside, but he was entirely different inside. 

The key was his handsome face. It didn’t show his true temperament. 

A middle–aged woman cried as she thanked Byron for curing her husband. It was obvious that he didn’t like close contact with strangers. He didn’t recoil, but he obviously didn’t like. shaking hands either. “I only did what I should.” 

The woman gave him a glowing endorsement. “Thank you, Doctor Wilson, for a night of glorious harmony.” 

Candice couldn’t hold it in anymore and snorted a laugh. 

Byron glanced at her as he moved to the sink to wash his hands. “You can pay your bill on the second floor, and collect your medicine on the first.” 

Candice had just turned to leave when he asked, “Did you take a morning–after pill?” 

No wonder he had made her wait around. He had wanted to mention this separate issue. Candice turned back to look at him. He had finished washing his hands and sat back down in his chair. The question seemed casual, as if the answer didn’t matter to him. 

“Yes.” 

“Was that within seventy–two hours?” 

“Yes.” 

Byron didn’t say anything else. 

She thought he might have something more to add, so she waited a few more seconds. 

 

He looked up. “Aren’t you going?” 

She took out her phone and brought up her online banking app. “I owe you twenty dollars. Can I transfer it to you?” 

Bryon looked her over. “When did you borrow money from me?” 

She couldn’t tell if he had actually forgotten, was deliberately teasing her, or was just playing dumb. She found him hard to read. She reminded herself that whether he was a gentleman or a playboy depended solely on if he was wearing pants, and he must have had plenty of women. 

“At the hotel…” 

He bluntly interrupted, “Are you asking for my phone number?” 

She froze, looking up into his eyes. 

His eyebrows rose. “Put it out of your mind. I won’t be your next marriage.” 

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