Lora
I must have checked the mirror five times before finally grabbing my bag. My hands wouldn’t stay still. I kept fussing with my hair, adjusting the hem of my skirt, debating if I should change into something less… fitted but then again, it was only a check-up.
Still, my stomach refused to calm.
I wasn’t sick, not exactly. I’d been feeling a little off. Tightness in my chest, trouble sleeping, an ache low in my abdomen that came and went. My mother insisted I book an appointment before it turned into something worse and now here I was, rushing through my morning, dreading what felt like a simple exam.
But the truth was, it wasn’t just nerves about my health. It was him.
Dr. Watson, he was my assigned physician. Mid-thirties, tall, always composed, with that unsettling mix of profes
