Chapter 2Diagnosis: Ex-Boyfriend

Ethan raised his hand to close the privacy curtain, adjusted his glasses, and signaled me:

"Pull your shirt up, unhook your bra."

I clutched the hem of my shirt tightly, glaring at him.

"You... you're abusing your power for personal revenge!"

He put his hands in his coat pockets, looking composed, and coldly reminded me:

"Miss Miller, first, you registered for my clinic.

"Second, I am a doctor. Treating patients is my job.

"Finally, is there any part of you I haven't seen?"

Me: ...

Fine, you win...

I gritted my teeth, took a deep breath, and unhooked my bra.

Heart pounding, eyes closed, I pulled my shirt up.

His hands were a bit cold, making me shiver when they touched my skin.

"Don't be nervous."

"Who... who's nervous..."

"High heart rate."

The corner of his mouth hooked into an imperceptible smile. Head down, checking very seriously.

"Any sensation?"

I turned my head to the side, huffing:

"No!"

"No?"

He frowned, puzzled.

"No sensation means no sensation. Dr. Black's technique is too poor. We broke up, do you expect me to fake it?"

Since I couldn't win physically, I chose to win verbally.

"Heh, my technique is poor?"

He lowered his eyes slightly, locking gazes with me through his lenses, voice cold and deep.

"Chloe, speak with your conscience."

I cursed silently, Isn't my conscience being touched by you right now?

He applied a bit more pressure.

"How about now?"

Me: "Feels like you're pinching me..."

He looked up, staring straight at me, and sighed.

"Any pain?"

"No!"

"Distention pain?"

"No!"

"Is it itchy usually?"

"Oh right, it's not here that itches."

Me: !!!

"Ethan Black, have you touched enough!"

Blushing, I abruptly propped myself up, almost hitting his chin:

"Don't you know if I'm sick or not?"

"So far, there doesn't seem to be any problem, but..."

His hands finally let go of me. His low laugh suddenly rang in the air:

"It is pretty small."

I gritted my teeth, retorting defiantly:

"Small chest? Blame the ex-boyfriend for not working hard enough!"

Suddenly, he grabbed my waist, and I fell into his arms by inertia. The scent of faint woody cologne wafted from his white coat.

His breathing was heavy, his voice dangerous:

"What, want me to work harder? Trying the same trick again?"

His face wore undisguised mockery.