The Temporary Boyfriend

Chapter 161: I’m done

"If you don’t take them off, how am I supposed to check your... injury?" Jasmine said, while slipping on a pair of latex gloves.

"Isn’t there a male doctor that can check?" he asked awkwardly.

Jasmine sighed. She had experienced this several times. She snapped the last latex glove against her wrist with a loud pop.

​"Sir, I have been on my feet for fourteen hours," she said flatly. "This is a hospital, not a social club. If you want to wait another four hours for a male doctor to become free, you are welcome to sit back out in the waiting room."

​The man shifted uncomfortably on the paper-covered table. He looked at the door and then back at Jasmine. She didn’t blink. She just stood there with her hands ready, looking perfectly calm and serious in her blue scrubs.

"I... it’s just a little uncomfortable," he admitted, his face turning red.

​"I promise you, I have seen it all before," Jasmine interrupted. "I am only interested in making sure your injury isn’t infected. Now, are we going to do this, or are you leaving?"

​The man took a shaky breath. He slowly reached for the button of his pants. He looked like he wanted the floor to open up and swallow him whole.

​Jasmine didn’t look away. She kept her expression neutral, like she was looking at a broken piece of machinery instead of a nervous man.

​Slowly, he pushed his pants down and moved as she asked. Although he looked like he regretted coming to the hospital at all.

​Jasmine stayed completely professional. Her expression never changed as she examined the injury.

A few minutes later, she peeled off her gloves and tossed them neatly into the medical waste bin.

"It’s not infected," she said while washing her hands. "But you came dangerously close."

The man looked both relieved and deeply embarrassed as he hurried to pull his pants back up.

Jasmine grabbed a clipboard from the counter and scribbled a few notes.

"You’ll need antibiotics for seven days. No heavy activity, no ignoring the pain, and keep the area clean."

"Yes, doctor," he mumbled quickly.

She handed him the prescription sheet without looking up.

The patient immediately slid off the bed, and escaped the room so fast it almost made her laugh.

A low cough came from the doorway.

Jasmine turned sharply, and her expression flattened instantly.

Andrew leaned against the doorframe with his hands in his pockets.

"You’re blocking my doorway," she said.

"Aren’t you happy to see me?" he asked with a grin. "No hug? No kiss?"

Jasmine returned to her paperwork without interest.

"If you’re here for treatment, sit down," she said. "If you’re here to flirt, the psychiatric wing is upstairs."

Andrew smirked. "You’re angry."

"Why would I be?"

"I got busy. That’s why I didn’t call." fɾēewebnσveℓ.com

That finally made Jasmine look up.

She smiled faintly, but there was nothing warm about it.

"I couldn’t care less," she said.

Andrew stared at her for a moment, then laughed softly.

"There she is," he murmured, walking into the room. "The beautiful doctor I missed."

Jasmine capped her pen.

"You missed me?" she asked dryly. "That must have been very difficult for you."

"You have no idea."

She rolled her eyes and walked past him toward the door.

"Move. Some of us actually work for a living."

Andrew stepped aside, but before she could leave, he caught her wrist gently.

"You’re really mad at me. I’m sorry, ok."

Jasmine looked down at his hand, then back at him.

"Andrew," she said calmly, "I once stitched a man back together while he screamed in my face. Do you really think a man not calling me is enough to ruin my mood?"

He blinked.

"...That sounded slightly threatening."

"Good," she replied, pulling her hand free.

Before she could walk away, Andrew caught her arm and pulled her back toward him.

He leaned in, trying to kiss her.

The slap echoed sharply through the room.

Andrew froze, looking stunned.

"Don’t," she said coldly.

Andrew slowly touched his cheek, still staring at her in shock.

She had never slapped him before. No matter how many times he ignored her calls, disappeared for days, or showed up acting charming like nothing happened, she had always stayed calm.

What could have changed.

"What the hell was that for?" he asked quietly.

Jasmine let out a bitter laugh.

"You don’t get to vanish whenever you want and then come back touching me like I still belong to you."

Andrew frowned. "We’re getting married in a few days. What are you talking about?"

For a moment, Jasmine just stared at him.

Then she shook her head slowly.

"That’s exactly the problem," she said softly. "You still think a ring excuses everything."

She took off the ring from her finger and threw it at him.

Andrew caught the ring out of instinct before it hit the floor.

His eyes widened.

"Jasmine—"

"I’m done," she said flatly.

The room went silent.

Andrew stared at the engagement ring sitting in his palm like it was something dangerous.

"You can’t be serious."

Jasmine laughed softly, but there was no humor in it.

"That’s the funny part," she said. "I’ve never been more serious in my life."

Andrew’s jaw tightened. "This is because I missed a few calls?"

"No," Jasmine snapped. "This is because you an asshole. And because I finally realized I’m marrying a man who only loves me when it’s convenient for him."

She pushed past him and walked out of the room.

"Jasmine..."

He hurried after her into the hospital corridor.

"You can’t do this to me," Andrew hissed, trying to keep his voice low. "Do you even realize how many people are coming for this wedding?"

Jasmine stopped walking and turned slowly.

A nurse passing by glanced between them awkwardly before quickly looking away.

Jasmine gave a cold laugh.

"Wow," she said quietly. "So that’s your biggest concern? Not me. Not us. But the guest list."