“I’m so sorry.” The words come out of nowhere, but it no longer surprises me. Ginger has been apologizing to me nonstop ever since she came over my place for movie night and found out what happened between Mr. X and me.

“It’s really okay, Gin. All water under the bridge now.” I feed myself a handful of popcorn, telling myself that the more times I say it, the sooner the words would come true.

From the other end of the couch, I feel Ginger’s gaze still on me, and without taking my eyes off the TV I say, “Stop worrying about me.”

“It’s just…” Ginger lets out a sigh of frustration. “I didn’t think he could be such a dick.”

“Me neither,” I say honestly.

Ginger grabs the remote control from the coffee table and switches the TV off.

“Hey!”

She wags a finger at me, saying, “We both know you weren’t really watching, and you’re clearly not okay, so let’s stop with the pretenses.”

I sulkily pull my legs up on the couch, mumbling, “I simply don’t see any point talking about him.”

“There is a point, and you know it.” My friend waits until I look at her before asking, “What if he contacts you? What will you tell him?”

“I don’t think he will. It’s been a week since we last saw each other, and I haven’t heard from him once.” Swallowing hard, I force myself to say the truth out loud. “I don’t think it matters to him if I’m there or not.”

“Oh, babe.” Ginger gives me a quick hug. “I’m so sorry about this.”

It’s close to midnight when my friend leaves, but even knowing I have to wake up early tomorrow I still feel restless.

I try listening to music, watching another movie, but in the end it’s inevitable, and I succumb to the urge to take out my journal.

It’s been ages since I last wrote here, I realize.

Flipping my journal open, I feel a mixture of sickness and disappointment as I browse the pages and see how majority of them has to do with Mr. X.

On the next empty page, I take my pen and start scribbling.

---

0029H

It’s been a week and you still haven’t emailed, texted, much less called.

You’re a good person, Mr. X. I know a lot of people misunderstand you. They think you’re too blunt, too cold, too ruthless. But I also know everything you say or do is just to make the hospital better. I’ve seen how much you care for the patients – more so than the rest of the hospital board. That’s why I’d never have a problem with how dedicated you are to your work. I admire you for that. I’d be proud and happy if I could be like you. And I wish – I really wish I could have more days with you, but I can’t.

Not when I know I’m just one of the many for you, and that you can replace me in an instant if you wanted to.

Maybe one day I could be friends with you, Mr. X.

But right now it just hurts too much, knowing how it really is between us.

Work the next day is hectic as usual, but I welcome it even though my heart remains heavy in my chest. I’ve never been the type to let personal stuff get in the way of my job, and I definitely won’t start now.

Around lunch break, a new mail pops in my inbox, and my heart skips a beat when I see it’s from Mr. X. I allow myself a moment to stare at his name.

And then I click Delete and empty my mail’s trash folder.

No more, Mr. X.

Ten minutes later, my phone suddenly rings, and I frown when I see an unregistered number flash on the screen. Could it be him? But what if it’s not?

Stop thinking you’re all that, I tell myself. Just because he sent you an email doesn’t mean he’s desperate to contact you.

And so I answer the call, saying, “Hello?”

“You haven’t been stalking me lately,” Mr. X says silkily.

Oh!

My fingers tighten around the phone as I struggle to make sense of the chaotic mix of emotions inside of me. A part of me rejoices at the fact that he’s bothered to call me – but another part just wants to get this over with.

Clearing my throat, I say stiltedly, “Before you think this is some kind of tactic to get you to pay more attention to me – it’s not. I just realized I’m not cut out for this sort of thing so…it was nice knowing you. Thanks.” And then I terminate the call.

One, two, three seconds pass before the full import of what I’ve done hits me.

Oh my God.

Did I just hang up on Mr. X, a man who definitely has the power to have me fired?

For the rest of the day, I’m on pins and needles, waiting for Mr. X to do an Empire-Strikes-Back kind of thing. But my shift comes to a close, and I don’t see or hear a peep of him.

Maybe…he really doesn’t care anymore?

Telling myself this relieves rather than disappoints me, I head out and on my way to the bus stop I bump into Matt, who’s taking a cigarette break at the parking lot across E.R.

“Hey.” He swiftly gets rid of his cigarette and tosses its butt to the dumpster.

I flash him an awkward smile, mumbling, “Hey.”

“Are you waiting for Dr.---”

Realizing he still thinks I’m seeing Mr. X, I hurriedly interject, “W-we’re done already.”

He blinks at my words, visibly taken aback. “Seriously?”

“Yes, I---” The buzzing of my mobile phone interrupts me. “Sorry, excuse me.” When I see who’s calling, my anxiety spikes up. Why is he calling me again?

Glancing at Matt, I say uncertainly, “I need to take this.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Turning away from him, I answer Mr. X’s call. “Hello?”

“Where are you?” Mr. X’s voice is cool.

“Outside the ER – why?”

“I’ll have my driver fetch you---”

“What?”

“He’ll take you to my place. We’ll talk there once I’m done with my meeting---”

I can’t help shaking my head, mumbling, “Why?”

“Because it’s not over between us. There are things we still have to talk about---”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” I mutter painfully. “I’ve made up my mind so---”

“If you hang up on me another time,” Mr. X snarls, “so help me, I’m going to put you over my knee the moment I see you.”

The words make me choke in surprise, but more than that I’m embarrassed at how it makes my breasts swell behind the cups of my bra. Dear God. Why am I so horribly weak when it comes to this man? How can I be turned on by the idea of having him spank my bottom like a wayward child?

Inhaling deeply, I ask in a shaky voice, “What do you really want?”

“You.”

I choke out a laugh. “Now who’s a liar?”

“I’m not lying.” Mr. X’s voice is hard. “I do want you.”

“I don’t like the way you want me,” I mumble painfully. “It makes me feel like a slut, and you know – you know why.”

Mr. X expels his breath harshly.

“D-don’t you dare deny it---” My voice starts to wobble dangerously, and I have to stop talking. I stare blindly at my surroundings, desperately willing myself not to cry. Matt’s still behind me, and it will be humiliating if he sees me break down.

“I’m not going to deny it.” Mr. X delivers the unexpected admission in a toneless voice. “But in my defense, I didn’t mean to. I never used to have to care about such things. The women I dated would have never given a damn.”

But I’m different, I want to cry out, and you know it.

It’s just impossible for someone as experienced as Mr. X not to know.

And so I’m sure of it.

He knew – but he just didn’t care to treat me differently.

The truth hits me like a punch in the guts, and I choke out, “Please don’t contact me again.” And for the second time that day, I hang up on him, but this time I don’t regret it one bit.

Behind me, Matt says slowly, “That was harsh.”

Oh! I’ve forgotten about him completely, and I whirl around, red-faced. “Y-you heard everything?”

“It’s hard not to,” Matt says apologetically, “since I was right here the entire time.”

“I’m sorry you had to hear that.”

“It doesn’t make a difference to me either way,” the male resident answers bluntly, “but I gotta say – it’s kinda nice to see a woman turn down the great---”

“Don’t say his name please!”

His eyebrows shoot up. “Why not?”

“I’m a little bit paranoid,” I confess awkwardly. “I don’t want other people to ever have a reason to link my name to his – especially now.” I pause then add uncertainly, “You won’t tell anyone about us, will you?”

A calculating look gleams in Matt’s dark eyes. “That depends.”

“On what?” I can’t help feeling suspicious, wondering if he’s about to blackmail me.

“If you go out on a date with me.”

Before I can answer, a familiar voice snarls from behind us, “Is he the reason why you’ve ended things between us?”

Even before turning around, I already know who it is and my head reels.

Mr. X?

He’s dressed in another dark suit, his lab coat nowhere to be seen, and it’s been so long since I last saw him that I’ve forgotten how gorgeous he is. He’s also breathing hard, making me wonder if he’s run all the way. But why would he do that? And he isn’t supposed to be in a meeting?

His blue-gray eyes swing sharply towards Matt, and Mr. X says in a steely voice, “Never make a move on my woman again.”

The violent threat has me gasping. It’s not like him at all, and dear heavens, has Mr. X forgotten that we’re at a public place?

To the younger man’s credit, Matt doesn’t back down even though Mr. X looks an inch away from throwing a punch at him. “It’s not my style to go after another man’s woman, Dr. Blackmore. So the question is---” He glances at me. “Are you still his woman?”

My lips part, but no words come out. I still have some pride left, and I just can’t make myself say I want to be his woman, knowing that I’m nothing special to him.

Mr. X’s face hardens. “So he is the reason.”

Realizing he’s completely misunderstood, I immediately protest, “It’s not like that---”

“Don’t bother lying,” he snaps. “It’s too damn obvious now. You met Matt, found out he likes you, and you realized you’re better off with someone younger and more fun---”

An appalled cry spills past my lips at how he’s twisted everything. “It’s not like that at all---”

“And to think,” Mr. X snarls, “you’ve been stalking me all this time---”

A look of astonishment falls over Matt’s face.

Mr. X smiles humorlessly. “Didn’t she tell you? She’s that kind of girl---”

The viciousness of his words hurts, and I unthinkingly raise my hand to his face.

Mr. X catches my wrist mid-swing and forces it down.

“Why are you acting like this?” I demand tremulously. “It’s n-not like you---”

“Don’t fucking make it sound like you know me,” he grates out, “just because you’ve been stalking me, fantasizing about me---”

His words make me whiten. What does he mean I’m fantasizing about him?

Mr. X’s lips twist. “I’ve read your journal.”

I freeze. He’s…read…my journal?

“So yes, I know everything. I know what you’ve been fantasizing about me, how much you’ve been thinking of me---”

This time, I manage to wrench my wrist out of his grasp.

SLAP!

“Asshole.” It’s the only word I can think of.

His lips tighten, but he only gazes at me, his blue-gray eyes cold.

“All this time,” I whisper numbly, “you knew.” My throat burns with unshed tears, and I have to stop speaking. Cold sweat envelops my body, and I wrap my arms around myself as I feel my insides turn into ice.

“You were just playing with me this entire time.”

Mr. X jerks.

“You t-thought you had me wrapped me around your finger, and when you realize it’s not like that, y-your ego was hurt and so now---” A wave of pain strikes me, and I suddenly feel absolutely defeated.

Fumbling for my pocket, I take out my planner and slam it against his chest. “Take it. It’s your trophy for making a fool out of me.”