The Doctor's Wife (A Sequel)

Chapter 4- Exposed

XANDER

I'm drumming my fingers on the steering wheel in frustration, trying to figure out who the hell planted that damn camera in my room.

I want to throw a fit right now. Who would do this to me and what the hell do they want? The idea of someone else seeing Emily's body besides me is driving me crazy. She's mine and mine alone.

Maybe the admin just wants to have a little chat. And maybe a staring contest. 'Cause apparently, he's gay...

The rumor about Dr. Morrison being gay flashes in my mind, but I quickly dismiss it because I know this is serious s**t. It's early in the morning and I'm driving to the hospital, looking slightly disheveled.

I try contacting Natalie again, but she's not picking up. Part of me wonders if she's the one who planted the camera, because I swear I didn't notice that little electronic s**t stuck to the ultrasound machine before.

But why would she do that to you?

Frustrated, I put my hand on my forehead, feeling a headache coming on.

I left Emily a note with her milk and pancakes this morning, saying I have an emergency hysterectomy for a patient with a huge-ass myoma. I actually have a patient named Mrs. Powell scheduled for the end of the month, but ever since this other patient came in last week, I've been itching to do the operation sooner. Her symptoms are seriously messing up her life, especially with her husband and kids. It breaks my heart to see moms suffer like that.

Memories of my own mom dying from ovarian cancer hit me hard in the chest. I close my eyes and focus on the road, pushing those thoughts away. I'm avoiding dwelling on it as much as possible because it always brings tears to my eyes. Life would be so damn perfect if she were still here today. I'm sure she'd love Emily too.

The thing about shitty memories is they creep into your head from time to time, and all you can do is ignore them as much as possible. If you entertain them, they'll drain all your positive energy and make you cry like a little girl in a corner. You gotta move on and live life like a boss, 'cause life keeps moving forward no matter what. We can't change the past, but we sure as hell can shape our future the way we want it.

A small, knowing smile spreads across my face as I realize the impact Emily has on my life. Her major in psychology has really helped and influenced my messed-up mind.

Yeah, enough with the drama and sentimental thoughts, man. Let's get back to your current problem.

I let out a long, audible exhale, a mix of frustration and resignation escaping my lips. f*****g problems.

I really hope Emily doesn't suspect anything. She knows my schedule inside out, and sometimes she even seems psychic. She might question why I'm leaving so early in the morning without telling her. Hopefully, the on-call for the emergency surgery will save me.

I definitely don't want her finding out about this, because it would be like having a leaked s*x tape circulating on social media and porn sites. The shame and depression would be unbearable, and it could drive her to take drastic measures.

She must never know about this. I need to find a way to fix this ASAP.

The thought of getting fired from my job creeps up on me like a nasty bug. When I arrive at the hospital, I head straight to Dr. Morrison's office on the second highest floor. I take a moment to compose myself, fixing the rumpled sleeve of my polo shirt before knocking on his fancy mahogany door.

"Come in!" he calls from inside. I open the door and my eyes are immediately drawn to the huge painting of a weird-looking black flower on a white background hanging on the wall behind him. It's like a wilted black rose or something.

"Dr. Alexander Greene... Please, have a seat." He motions for me to sit on one of the two plush burgundy leather chairs in front of his desk. He rests his chin on his intertwined fingers and looks at me with a poker face.

Dr. Frank Morrison used to be the chief of surgery in this hospital and has been the administrator for years now.

"I called you here today because you're facing disciplinary action."

Wow, straight to the point, huh? A little pleasant introduction wouldn't hurt. I lean back in my chair, giving him an expectant look. "And what is this about...?"

"Dr. Greene, you see, someone sent me an email yesterday with a video attachment..."

I blink and let out a sigh, confirming that whoever sent it is a total psycho with a mission to ruin my life.

He turns to his laptop, types something, and then swivels it to face me. The slightly blurry copy of a familiar grayscale footage makes my heart race.

From the camera angle, you can see my desk while the ultrasound machine is positioned next to the exam table, facing the wall where my desk is.

Emily, unmistakably her, is on my desk, with her back to the camera. Her legs are wrapped around me and we're... well, we're obviously making out.

Just watching it brings back memories like it was yesterday. We went to the amusement park and I got her the Kitty plushie afterward.

I focus on the video even more. Now I'm carrying her toward the exam table, and... I push her down, making her lie on her back with her head right in front of the hidden camera. The angle only captures the left side of her body, but my damn horny head going wild on top of her is all there for the world to see.

My eyes widen as I slip her panties off and pull her shirt up to her neck, revealing her bra.

Fuck, I can't watch this.

I take a sharp breath and quickly hit the stop button, closing the video player in a split second.

"That woman is Emily Maxwell, my fiancé. She came to my office as a friend, not as a patient," I assert defiantly and defensively.

"We've checked the records, and it shows that on November 23, 2022, around two in the afternoon, patient Emily Maxwell visited your clinic for her second follow-up appointment."

My frustration causes my eyebrows to furrow. "It was completely consensual, Dr. Morrison. As you can see, I've never had any complaints against me in this hospital. I have never engaged in any kind of s****l misconduct with my patients. I do my job professionally and I'm skilled in my treatments. Emily Maxwell didn't even file a complaint and she's perfectly healthy now."

Dr. Morrison nonchalantly shrugs, giving me a look that suggests he's about to deliver an unfavorable decision.

"You never know. Your room didn't have CCTV before."

Did he just f*****g insult me?

I admit that I've taken an interest in and met up with a few patients outside of the hospital: Nina's sister, Brianna, and Emily. But apart from them, I can't recall engaging in any s****l misconduct, even though some patients are painfully forward and more than willing to throw themselves at me.

Why don't you try seducing Frank? Maybe he'll change his mind...

I'm about to shoot him a smoldering and challenging gaze to test my luck, but my attention is diverted to a picture frame resting on top of a drawer behind him. It's a picture of him with his wife and teenage son.

Attention! Code 69: Mission abort. He's straight, and you're doomed.

"I apologize for this unfortunate situation, Dr. Greene, but rules are rules, and you're expected to follow them."

"The patient didn't file a complaint, and it's not appropriate to have CCTV cameras installed in an examination room where patients expect complete privacy, right?"

"The point here is... you clearly violated a serious boundary. As a professional, I'm sure you're well aware of the ethical standards in the medical field."

My hands clench into fists on my lap. Damn it, I never expected this to happen. It seems like bad karma has some unfinished business with me.

"May I know the email address of the sender?"

"It was from an anonymous person," he replies, adjusting his glasses on his nose bridge.

"But could you at least provide me with the email address?" I'm thinking of tracing the sender once this conversation is over.

Dr. Morrison runs his fingers through his bleached hair and meets my gaze. "Look, Dr. Greene. Let's cut to the chase. What you did is unquestionably s****l misconduct and goes against our hospital's policy. In fact, we could have fired you on the spot."

I clench my jaw, trying to contain my emotions. "I deeply regret not considering the consequences, Dr. Morrison. But I need to tell you that the person behind this clearly had a motive to ruin my career. This is personal, and I can't afford to lose my job." The hint of desperation in my voice irritates me. I'm not accustomed to begging.

"Dr. Greene, you're one of our most esteemed doctors and undoubtedly the most popular, but unfortunately, you'll have to face disciplinary action."

"What kind of action are we talking about?"

"I will refer this case to our board members for review and inform you of the extent of your suspension as soon as possible. For now, you're not permitted to go on duty until further notice."

After some insistence on my part, I finally let out a frustrated sigh before standing up to leave his office. At least I managed to convince him to give me the email address of the sender.

I make my way down to the nurse's station, where they all greet me with surprise.

"Dr. Greene! Such an unexpected sight this early," Sasha, who is on her morning shift, exclaims, her curious eyes sizing up my outfit. Today, I decided to ditch my usual semi-formal polo shirt and slacks for a more casual black shirt and pants.

"Mind if I talk to you for a minute?"

"Even for an hour or the whole day, won’t ever complain!" she replies enthusiastically.

I lead her over to Ellie's desk, our medical secretary.

"Have any of you noticed anything strange or a hidden camera in my office, maybe even in my ultrasound machine?"

Both of them appear genuinely shocked by my question.

"You have one?!" Sasha asks.

"No, I don't. And apparently, someone installed one without my knowledge."

Ellie chimes in, "I'm sorry, Dr. Greene, but I'm not sure if I understand. Are you saying that you didn't know there was a hidden camera in your office?"

My left eyebrow raises. "Uh, no?"

Please don't tell me it's some new protocol that I wasn't informed about.

"I don't recall the hospital installing cameras in the examination rooms," Ellie adds, dashing the glimmer of hope that had briefly surfaced.

"Yes, Ellie. Someone is trying to ruin me. Do you have any contact with Nina by any chance?"

She's the only person who could possibly have the motive.

"No, Doc. I heard she moved to another state. Do you want me to try finding her on social media and ask for her contact information?"

"Please do, Ellie." I study each of them for a moment, assessing the nature of our relationship and whether they could have any reason to do something like this to me.

Ellie has never been inside my office. She's primarily responsible for coordinating surgery schedules and appointments. Sasha has only been here for a year.

I'll need to speak with the other nurses and the head nurse as well.

No need to exhaust yourself with everyone, Alexander. Nina was your nurse at that time and was in charge of Emily's case...

Yes. Yes, I should trust my gut feeling, but...

Could it really be her?

****

I need someone to vent to about my problem. I texted my girl that I'd be coming home late tonight. It sucks to miss her and want to avoid her at the same time.

It was lunchtime, and I found myself standing outside my best friend Jace's badass tattoo shop on 169th Street, right off Frankfort Avenue.

The Tats Machine is a kickass joint run by Jace and his cousin Ethan. These two are all about giving their customers a premium custom tattoo experience. It's where I usually hang, besides the gym where Jace does his freelance fitness guru thing.

Their spot is a converted warehouse, covering a sweet 1500 square feet. Inside, it's got this sterile, dimly lit, and cozy vibe that's far from your typical tattoo parlor stench of cigarettes, ink, and weed. No beer cans lying around or hardcore rock blaring in your ears either. These tattoo artists are professional as hell.

The place is decked out in cool and modern black and white motifs, with their sickest portfolios displayed on the walls in frames with LED lights. White walls, black granite tiles, shiny black couches, and dope posters—it's a lit setup, my dude.

As I step into the shop, Jace's receptionist Lizzie shoots me a surprised look. She's got ash-dyed hair, nose piercings, and her black lipstick and eyeliner game is on point. She's posted up behind the L-shaped metal gray counter, dealing with some nosy customer who's jacked up with tribal tattoos. Two other peeps are chilling on the couch, flipping through albums for tattoo designs while they wait for their turn.

I patiently stand there behind Mr. Steroid until he finally bounces.

"What's crackin', homie? Long time no see. What you got in mind?" Lizzie greets me as soon as the roided dude exits. The way she chews her gum is annoyingly gothic, reminding me of a damn goat.

"I just need to talk to Jace. Is he busy?"

"Nah, he's down the hall playing billiards," she dismissively gestures in that direction and goes back to typing on the computer.

I make my way down the hall, where the tattoo rooms are, and at the end is an open area with a sweet-ass pool table. My boy is in there, wearing his usual gray beanie and fitted shirt.

I lean against the wall, arms crossed, waiting for him to notice me. I watch as he sinks three balls in one shot, proving he's a beast on the pool table. His skills with balls make him even more attractive than he already is. No wonder he's got a swarm of female customers up in here.

Finally, he glances in my direction.

"Greene! What's up?" His face lights up as soon as he sees me. Damn, it's been way too long since I last rolled through his spot.

"Yo, everything cool? Feelin' like gettin' some fresh ink?" He flashes a mischievous grin, but I'm not in the mood to banter.

I stroll around the pool table, grabbing another cue stick before facing him. "Nah, I'm good."

"You look like a damn pigeon dropped a deuce on your head. Is everything cool with Emily?" Jace taunts.

Leaning over the pool table, I extend my arm, loosely gripping the cue stick. I smoothly swing it back and forth like a pendulum before finally striking the cue ball dead center.

As we both watch the ball roll towards my target, I curse under my breath. "Damn it."

Jace chuckles as he approaches me. "You seem hella distracted. You gonna start talking or what?"

I prop the cue stick vertically on the table and lean on it, letting out a sigh.

"Everything's cool between us. It's just that..." I straighten up to face him. "Someone's trying to mess with my career."

He raises an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

I continue hitting the balls, frustratingly missing each shot for some reason, while I spill the details of the past couple of days.

"What the actual f**k? That's insane, bro. Could it be that crazy nurse who whacked your head last year?"

"I've thought about her too, but I have no clue where she's at now."

"But ain't it convenient that the video was emailed right after you discovered the hidden camera? Maybe Natalie's involved," he concludes, effortlessly sinking three balls in one shot. Beast mode activated.

"She's been ghosting my calls," I reply.

Jace straightens up, giving me a knowing look. "Well, that's pretty damn telling. She's gotta be in on it."

"I actually have the email address of the sender. Can you trace the location?" Jace is a tech whiz, thanks to his IT degree.

"Is there anything I can't do?" he quips.

"Quit talkin' and grab your damn laptop. I'm stressed as f**k. Losing my job and screwing up my rep is not an option. I got important surgeries lined up. Can't just bail on them."

"Alright, alright, Mr. Big Shot. Take a chill pill," Jace replies, disappearing down the hall and returning with his iPad.

"What's the email address?" he asks, ready to dive into his IT wizardry.

With a straight face, I respond immediately, "youreadick_69@gmail.com."

Jace snaps his head towards me, an expression of disbelief on his face, but before he can unleash a string of curses, I cut in, "I know, I know."

He starts analyzing the email header to retrieve the IP address.

"The email's a load of crap, so no chance of finding their personal social media accounts if they have any," he says.

Once he finally traces the IP address, a tingling sensation creeps up in my gums as anticipation builds.

"Alright, here we go." He hits ENTER and the results finally roll in.

"So our homie is from Los Angeles, California..." he announces.

"Guess that means Nina's in L.A..." I note.

"Damn, looks like those rose tattoos of yours are coming back to haunt you, huh?" He smirks teasingly.

"You have no idea how much I regret everything, Jace. If only I could turn back time... I know I was a total dick."

He rummages in his pocket for a moment before pulling out a cigarette and lighter. I raise an eyebrow as he lights it up and takes a long drag.

"You should've stuck with one girl," he exhales a cloud of smoke and continues, "like me."

"f**k you. You cheated on Amber," I snap at him.

His face darkens.

"Can we... just not talk about her for a while?"

I turn to him with curiosity.

Jace and Amber have a seriously complicated relationship. I'm not trying to pry into my best guy's personal life, but ever since I met Emily, who happens to be Amber's close friend, I've learned more about him.

"You alright?" His smoking is tempting, so I reach out and grab a cigarette from him.

"I can't do s**t about it anymore. She's into girls, so be it."

Amber's seems to be a bisexual and she's been seeing a girl for the past few months.

"I thought you were all about girl-on-girl action and lesbian porn," I tease him.

"Well, that s**t's lost its appeal now," he growls.

"Maybe it was her way of getting back at you," I casually suggest.

"My ex is one crazy b***h, dude. She hates Amber so she set everything up."

Their history is a total mindfuck.

"Girls can be a pain in the ass," he continues.

"Not if you fall in love." That familiar feeling in my gut hits me again. It always happens when I miss Emily.

"Wait, speaking of crazy exes, I just remembered yours. How's Lara doing, by the way?"

Lara? Oh s**t.

"Lara's in L.A..." I blurt out. We exchange knowing glances.

"But what about Natalie? Or Nina? Your ex might be psycho, but you think she has access to your office or something? Unless your exes are teaming up... How epic would that be?" He's got excitement written all over his face.

"Thanks for the sympathy, Jace," I snap back with a pissed-off look.

So who the hell actually did this?

This s**t is way more confusing and messed up than I expected.