- 4.
I first met David at the hospital. He was brought in after a suicide attempt, and I was the doctor who saved his life. Afterwards, I
learned he suffered from depression. As his
physician, I took a special interest in his case,
visiting him often.
One day, I asked him, “Why did you try to end
your life? You’re handsome, wealthy. What
could you possibly be worried about?” My
colleagues had told me he was the son of the
CEO of Wilson Enterprises, born with a silver
spoon in his mouth.
He turned to me, silent. I tried again: “Was it
<
because of a relationship?”
This time he spoke. “No.”
I smiled. “David, I don’t know your story, and I’m not going to give you a pep talk. All I know is that you’re my patient, and I’m
responsible for you. You can’t die.”
I dedicated myself to his care, treating him like a normal person. We watched TV shows
together, I brought him homemade
empanadas. He wrinkled his nose,
complaining they’d make his breath stink, but
after watching me enjoy one, he’d sneak a
few and devour them with surprising gusto.
In our spare time, I’d rope him into playing
mobile games. He acted indifferent at first,
but after one game, he was hooked. He’d text
<
me constantly: “Dr. Sanders, game on?” or
“Dr. Sanders, wanna play?” Classic case of
playing hard to get.
We became close. His condition improved
dramatically. By the time he was discharged,
he was practically a different person. He
invited me over for dinner, cooking an
elaborate meal. After our time at the hospital,
I considered him a friend, so I had a few
drinks. I didn’t expect those few drinks would
lead to him taking my virginity.
When I woke up, he said he’d been drunk but
would take responsibility. Soon after, he
proposed. The day before the wedding, he
said, “Evelyn, can we hold off on the legal
paperwork for now? Just have the
ceremony?”
L
“Why?”
“My family doesn’t approve. They won’t give
me the necessary documents. We can make it
official later, I promise.”
I agreed. He kept saying he couldn’t get the
paperwork, and it dragged on for six years. I
bore his child, cooked his meals, took care of
our home. In the end, I had no legal standing,
just the label of “mistress.”
