Doctor-Patient Confidentiality: Chapter Thirty-Seven (Role Play Edition)

 

As Gina and you continue to look at each other in an extremely awkward bout of silence, the only thing you expect her to do right now is threaten to tell on you if you don’t agree with her, but surprisingly, she doesn’t.

 

Instead of trying to blackmail you, she says, “I know how this looks, but I have my reasons for being here, as I’m sure you do as well.”

 

When you continue to remain silent, she lets out a deep sigh and continues.

 

“Look, neither you nor Trixie may believe it, but I love Bill. He’s the only guy I’ve ever been with that sees me as a human being and not some dumb plastic bimbo trophy to parade around on his arm for everyone to see. He actually sees me as his equal. He treats me like I truly matter to him.”

 

Her eyes seem to mist slightly as she speaks, and her voice sounds like it’s on the verge of cracking. “And he matters to me. More than you’ll ever know.”

 

You look into her eyes and you can clearly see the fear, hurt, and desperation in them. You never imagined that you’d ever see Gina look so scared and vulnerable. It’s really taking you aback.

 

She just always seemed like such your typical popular sorority hottie. But the girl standing in front of you and begging you for your discretion right now is so much more than that.

 

You just always assumed she came from a rich family. You certainly never imagined that she had everything she did and could afford her luxurious lifestyle because she was some rich guy’s sugar baby. Not in a million years.

 

Outward perception can be a real bitch.

 

You, of all people, should know.

 

Seeing her like this, you can’t help but empathize with her. She obviously just happened to find herself in a desperate situation and is doing what she has to get out of it. If nothing else, you sure as hell can relate to that desperate feeling.

 

“He already suspects you of cheating on him,” you blurt out.

 

You don’t know why you just told her that. Maybe it’s because you suddenly feel a strange kinship with her. As crazy and bizarre as it seems, you realize you’re not that different.

 

“You…you should be more careful,” you say quietly, realizing the implications of your words.

 

You just pretty much agreed to keep her secret; to lie to your best friends—and her boyfriend—for her. But you guess you’re doing it for yourself, too. She won’t have a choice but to reciprocate your confidence if you keep your mouth shut.

 

“Thank you,” she says on an exhale, releasing your hand with a sigh.

 

God, why did you have to run into her here? It would have been so much easier if she had just remained ‘the cheating skank’ and not ‘the desperate individual who’s been forced to make a hard choice because she doesn’t have any other option’.

 

You really hate the feeling of being caught in the middle like this, but you can’t in good conscience tell on her after what she’s just told you. And besides, it’s not like you’re not in a similarly desperate situation yourself. She clearly doesn’t want to be here any more than you do.

 

“And I’m not gonna ask why you’re here,” she continues, smoothing her palms over her baby pink bandage dress. “I may not know you that well, but it’s pretty obvious that you’re not the type who would be here dressed like that if you didn’t absolutely have to be. Whatever your situation is, I hope you get it sorted out soon.”

 

You feel your throat constrict slightly at hearing her empathetic words—words you did not expect. You swallow, nodding in a silent show of thanks, for both her implied confidence and her understanding, but especially her understanding.

 

This might actually be one of the strangest, most unexpected exchanges you’ll ever have in life. But you’re incredibly grateful for it.

 

Gina might be the last person you imagined you’d be standing across from tonight, but she understands. She can relate. And right now, standing here in the restroom of a multimillion dollar mansion of some stranger after being catapulted headfirst into this foreign and highly risky escort underworld, you can certainly appreciate having someone you can relate to.

 

She finally walks past you, and you hear the door open and close once more, signaling her departure.

 

You’re left in total silence again, but now you feel even more scatterbrained than you did coming in. You check your watch, and you realize you’ve been in here for a little too long, and the last thing you want right now is Mindy barking up your ass for hiding in a restroom when you’re supposed to be ‘showcasing your goods’ and entertaining clients.

 

You do your best to recollect yourself, taking more deep breaths and massaging your cheeks in preparation for the torture you’re about to put them through again. You’re going to have to be smiling wide all fucking night if you’re going to be able to tolerate Bitch McGraw’s self-centered conversations. Hopefully, your constant grinning might even trick your brain into believing that you’re actually having a good time after a while. Hopefully.

 

You smooth your hair once more, and you realize that you keep touching it because you don’t know what else to do with your antsy fingers.

 

You reluctantly make your way out of there, bracing yourself as you walk back to where you’d been standing as gracefully as you can without wincing from how much your feet hurt. But, as your kind of shitty luck would have it, that doesn’t exactly go as planned.

 

You’re just a couple of feet away from the restroom when you feel your body collide with something hard. You immediately stumble backward from the sudden contact.

 

Nicole’s stupid stilettos rob you of any and all stability, and you feel yourself descending into what you know is going to be a horribly embarrassing fall.

 

Your hands fly out on impulse, grabbing for anything they can latch on to in a last attempt to save their owner.

 

Unfortunately for you, they don’t react quickly enough, and just the tips of your fingers manage to graze what you vaguely register as the crisp fabric of a shirt.

 

Fuck. Your. Life.

 

And fuck Nicole for making you wear these damn shoes.

 

As you brace yourself for the hit that you know is coming at the end of the drop, you feel someone grab at your arm, completely halting your movements.

 

For a few, albeit memorable seconds, you remain suspended in your falling position, your torso bent backward and away from the rest of your uncoordinated body as another hand comes around your waist and eventually slides up your back, bringing you up with it.

 

You realize you’ve just been saved from certain demise, and the owner of these strong hands just spared you a truckload of humiliation and probably a sprained ankle as well.

 

You begin apologizing without even thinking. “I’m so, so sorry, sir! I wasn’t paying atten—”

 

In an instant, you feel all the air in your lungs disappear.

 

Your voice immediately trails off and your words come to an abrupt halt.

 

 Every single inch of your body stiffens and becomes impossibly rigid, your limbs completely frozen in place.

 

You feel all the blood quickly drain from your face as you come eye to eye with a pair of very familiar icy blues.

 

Oh. Fuck. You…

 

This seriously can’t be happening right now.

 

***

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