Chapter 3Diagnosis: Ex-Boyfriend

Yes, we got together purely because I stalked him relentlessly until he had no choice but to give in.

Back then, I accompanied my best friend to the doctor and fell for Ethan's devastating looks at first sight.

White coat, gold-rimmed glasses, broad shoulders, long legs—the ascetic vibe was maxed out.

I have a thing for hands. Watching his slender, distinct knuckles typing on the keyboard beat a drum in my heart.

I clung to the doorframe, swallowing hard, heart rate soaring.

Finally understood the suspension bridge effect.

Give me a heart bypass right now!

My best friend was hospitalized for a month due to arrhythmia from looking at male models.

I became an unofficial staff member of the thoracic surgery department.

Morning bubble tea delivery? Criticized for excessive sugar. Lunch bento delivery? Criticized for nutritional imbalance. Evening stakeouts? Lectured on irregular sleep schedules.

After I faked low blood sugar and fell into his arms for thirty consecutive days, Ethan finally cornered me in the stairwell:

"Chloe, what exactly do you want?"

"You."

I gritted my teeth, tiptoeing to pull his tie:

"Okay?

"Dr. Black, my heart races whenever I see you. What should I do?"

Later, when he pinned me against the wall and kissed me.

I realized even high-altitude flowers bite when provoked.

But soon I discovered this man was a monk.

Three months to hold hands, six months to kiss.

Every time I wanted to deepen the exchange, he rejected me firmly with those enchanting eyes:

"This is too fast."

I played tug-of-war for six months before using a honey trap to push him down.

However, the high-altitude flower wasn't cold in bed at all. He wore me out every time.

Love should be sweet, but his job was special. He practically lived on the operating table.

Leaving at 7 AM and returning at 8 or 9 PM was normal.

I wanted some action when he got home, but he had to review cases, write papers, take exams.

Even a workhorse would call him brother.

At a vigorous age, I craved him.

Couldn't stand this feast-or-famine life.

On my birthday, I hadn't had any for half a month.

I swore I would push him down.

But the movie just started when a phone call sent him running back to the hospital.

I finished the movie alone, ate hot pot alone, feeling incredibly lonely and wronged.

Sent him WeChat messages, no reply.

When I brought food to the hospital to see him, he was sitting with a female doctor, discussing a case intently.

Their faces showed undisguised admiration.

Indescribably compatible.

In an instant, my enthusiasm deflated.

Someone like Ethan is fine for sleeping with.

Not suitable for marriage.

He's an excellent doctor at a top hospital; I'm a broke writer who loves pretty faces.

Truly mismatched.

And at that moment, I suddenly didn't want to sleep with him anymore.

So, I proposed a breakup.

He asked why. I gave a reason that would kill any man's heart:

"Your technique sucks."

Then I blocked all his contact info.

After the breakup, he never looked for me.

Anyway, I dumped him.

Now that I accidentally registered for his clinic, it looks like I regretted it and came back to chase him.