The Man Who Forgot to Love Me

My fiancé, Ethan Cole, was one of Boston's top dental surgeons. But he never treated me. "Doctors shouldn't treat people close to them," he'd said once. "It compromises professional judgment." So I never asked. Cleanings, fillings, extractions—I handled all of it with other dentists. Until my family dentist looked at my impacted wisdom tooth and let out a long sigh. "This is a complicated case. You should really see Dr. Cole. He's the best at this kind of thing." So I booked an appointment at Ethan Cole's specialist clinic three weeks in advance. When my turn came, he froze. His voice went cold. "Didn't I tell you not to come to me?" I clutched the appointment slip, damp with sweat, and instinctively tried to explain. "It's an impacted tooth. My dentist said if it's not handled properly, it could affect the nerves and the jaw." But he was already calling toward the door: "Next patient." I was pushed out. He didn't spare me a single glance. I remembered what he'd said a few days earlier—that we needed to keep our distance at the hospital, or it would look bad. Then a bright, lilting voice rang out. A female doctor wearing a mask squeezed past me and settled into the chair beside Ethan, beaming. "Ethan, do a cleaning for me later, will you? I don't trust anyone else." I expected him to refuse. Instead, his eyes curved into a smile. "Sure. If you get scared, just grab the hem of my coat." A nurse nearby dropped her voice to an excited whisper. "Oh my God, Dr. Cole and Dr. Bennett are literally perfect together!" "They even know what each other's wisdom teeth look like. That's so sweet." A dull ache pulsed from my wisdom tooth. I turned and left. That same day, I bought a ticket to New York. There was no way Ethan Cole was the only top dental surgeon in the world. … After he'd finished with all his patients, Ethan seemed to suddenly remember something. He looked toward the door, but the hallway was long empty. He frowned, uneasy. This was the first time I hadn't waited for him after work. He flagged down his assistant. "The woman who was standing by the door earlier—where did she go?" The assistant thought for a moment. "You mean the one with the infected impacted tooth? The one whose face was swollen on one side?" Ethan went still. The words left his mouth before he could think. "It was that bad?" I'd been wearing a mask when I came in. He'd barely glanced at me—hadn't even noticed the swelling in my cheek. The assistant nodded, a flicker of sympathy in her eyes. "Yeah. When she left, her eyes were all red." Ethan was silent for a moment, then dialed my number. It rang for a long time. Busy signal, every time. He was about to try again when someone knocked on the office door. "Ethan, my car's in the shop. Can I catch a ride home with you?" Chloe. Ethan managed a thin smile. "Of course." I stood by the apartment window. Below, I could see the two of them clearly. I don't know what Chloe said, but Ethan ducked his head and laughed softly, his shoulders shaking. I gripped the curtain, staring at the scene in a daze. He had never looked at me like that. Around me, he was always composed, controlled. Even in bed, he never once let himself go. The sound of the keypad lock clicking open came from the entryway. Ethan kicked off his shoes and glanced toward the dining table out of habit. Seeing it empty, he looked mildly surprised. "You didn't cook tonight?" I lowered my eyes and let out a quiet "Mm." He frowned, about to say something, then his gaze landed on my grotesquely swollen cheek. He paused. "Never mind. I'll order delivery later." Then, almost immediately, a note of reproach crept in. "Why didn't you tell me sooner it was this bad?" I blinked against the sting in my eyes and spoke, word by careful word. "I did tell you." Ethan's expression froze on his face. A beat passed. His gaze slid away, and he muttered to himself. "Oh. It was probably too loud in there. I didn't hear." I swallowed against the tears, my voice rough. "Ethan, if you had looked at me—really looked at me, even once today—you would have seen how swollen my face was." "But you didn't even look." "Do you think I'll never leave you? Is that it?" Ethan's hand hung motionless in the air, then slowly dropped. His voice was flat with exhaustion. "Why would you think that?" He bent down to set his shoes on the rack, and in doing so, missed the tear that slipped down my face. "Gem, can you please not do this? I'm really tired today."