Diagnosis: Obsessed With My Fake Wife

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The morning after my college reunion, my eyes were still glued shut when my fingers brushed against a man's naked leg. The texture was undeniably goodfirm, tense muscle radiating a scorching heat. I couldn't help myself, my hand trailing back and forth over those sharply defined ridges.

Bang! The door slammed open.

A group of people surged into the room.

My heart leaped into my throat.

I yanked my hand back and gripped the blanket, pulling it tightly against my chest.

"Dr. Beckett, the Chief is asking for" The guys who had just barged in froze in their tracks, letting out a chorus of stunned gasps.

[Me: ???]

Dr. Beckett? What the hell were they talking about?

Chapter 1

I followed their gaze. A man was lying next to me.

Long, powerful legs lightly dusted with hair, radiating pure testosterone. Further up My brain short-circuited. I squeezed my eyes shut.

"We we didn't mean to" The guys squeezed their eyes shut too, stammering apologies.

I didn't know those guys. I definitely didn't know the man beside me. While I sat there frozen, the man tugged at the blanket. He cracked one eye open, his gaze sweeping over me.

"Mind sharing?" His voice was gravelly with sleep.

I spent one second processing his words before releasing the blanket like touching a live wire. The fabric slipped down, exposing his sculpted six-pack and the sharp V-line dipping below his waist. He leaned back against the headboard without a care in the world. His dark gaze pinned me down, heavy and suffocating.

The blanket barely covered his lower half. He closed his eyes again. "Still here?" he drawled lazily.

Jesus

Panic spiked.

I scrambled to get out of bed, but he let out a sigh. "Not you."

At his words, the crowd of men finally snapped out of their trance. "The Chief is waiting for the meeting. Hurry down," one of them tossed out before they all scrambled out of the room like a pack of spooked dogs.

The world plunged into silence. I clutched the edge of the blanket, my entire body shaking.

"What are you scared of?" My trembling seemed to have chased away his sleep. He forced his eyes open to look at me, then let them fall shut again.

"I I think I hurt." The shock made me blabber nonsense. The second the words left my mouth, my fingernails dug into my palms.

This time, his eyes stayed open. He stared at me for a few seconds, then rubbed his temples. His long arm shot out, wrapping securely around my waist and pulling me close.

"It's always like that the first time. It'll pass."

He was probably trying to comfort me. It didn't work. A cold sweat broke out across my back. I looked down.

A small patch of blood stained the white sheets. My scalp prickled.

His gaze followed mine to the blood. The lazy look on his face vanished, replaced by a flash of dark, unmistakable possessiveness. He leaned in close. His rough thumb dragged across my cheek.

"Sorry. You were too sweet. I lost control last night." His voice was pure gravel.

Lost control?!

My stomach plummeted.

"Who are you?" I forced the words through a tight throat.

A dark chuckle rumbled in his chest. "You don't even know my name, but you still climbed into my bed and had your way with me?"

"I I can't remember" I had never been in a situation like this. My skin crawled with goosebumps. "I'm not going to get pregnant from this, am I?"

I couldn't believe myself. Amidst all the chaos and unanswered questions, my brain prioritized the most critical threat.

He cracked an eye open and glanced at me. He looked utterly exhausted. The man looked so drained, I was half-afraid he'd shatter if I poked him. Just how wild was I last night to leave a grown man looking like this?

Heat scorched my cheeks.

"No." His answer was sharp and absolute.

I had zero experience. I couldn't even remember the details of last night, and I didn't have the guts to ask. If he said I wouldn't get pregnant, I'd take his word for it. Those guys had called him "Doctor," after all.

Maybe he used protection? I clung to that sliver of hope.

"So bye?" Flight was my only option to escape the crushing awkwardness.

He looked at me, a sudden smirk playing on his lips. "Sure."

I thought I would never see him again.

Two weeks later, I sat outside his office, a positive pregnancy test burning a hole in my pocket, shaking like a leaf.

"Hey, Mrs. Beckett!" A male doctor bounded up to me. I jumped so hard my soul nearly left my body.

"Waiting for Dr. Beckett?" He acted like we were old friends. In reality, we had only crossed paths for five agonizing minutes in that hotel room. Five minutes of pure, unadulterated humiliation.

Two weeks ago, I went to my high school reunion, drank way too much, and stumbled into the wrong room. I found out later that Dr. Beckett and his team were attending a medical conference at the same hotel. In a twisted stroke of luck, his room was right next to mine. He had been sick, and the colleague taking care of him left the door unlocked on his way out.

I just walked right in.

Then, the next morning, his colleagues came to get him for their meeting

Chapter 2

Which led to that chaotic morning.

"Uh, yeah," I brushed Jasper off, heat rising in my cheeks.

"Wait in here." Without another word, he pulled me into the break room.

As we passed Dr. Beckett, he shot me a glance, looking right through me as if we were total strangers. To be fair, I barely recognized him either. I had never seen him fully dressed and out of bed.

I sat on pins and needles for two grueling hours. Staring at the nameplate on his desk, I finally learned his name: Beckett. Cardiovascular Department.

I secretly looked up his online profile. Twenty-nine years old, Ivy League graduate, a rising star in his field. Most importantly, his professional headshot was so incredibly handsome it made my thighs clench. My heart rate spiked.

Did I actually sleep with a man this gorgeous?

After a while, Beckett finally walked in to change. He shot me a suspicious look. "Waiting for Jasper?"

[Me: ???]

I shot to my feet. My fingers gripped my purse so tight my knuckles turned white. "Dr. Beckett. I'm waiting for you," I squeaked, my voice barely above a whisper.

"And you are?"

[Me: ???]

He really just wipes the slate clean once he's out of bed?

"Two weeks ago. At the hotel. We" I forced the words out, my confidence draining with every syllable.

Finally, I just pulled the pregnancy test out of my bag and carefully held it out to him. "I think I'm pregnant."

"Dr. Beckett, time for lunch!" Right at that moment, a female doctor barged into the room.

Panic flared.

I tried to hide the test, but my hand jerked, and the plastic stick slipped from my fingers, dropping straight into the trash can next to the desk. I stared into the bin, debating whether I should fish it out just in case he hadn't gotten a clear look.

Beckett didn't say a word. He just kept his eyes locked on me, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Your patient?" The female doctor clearly had no intention of leaving, shifting her gaze to me.

I opened my mouth, then snapped it shut, the awkwardness suffocating me.

"Personal business. You go ahead," he dismissed her without introducing me.

I felt like a criminal caught in the act.

The female doctor left reluctantly. Before stepping out, she deliberately puffed out her impressive chest and reached over to adjust his collar, only for him to smoothly sidestep her touch.

He had a girlfriend.

A cold knot formed in my stomach, twisting painfully.

He, however, acted like nothing had happened. He sat back down at his desk, flipped open a medical chart, and casually threw out, "Body recovered?"

The audacity of his words sent my heart hammering against my ribs.

"I'm fine," I deflected.

He cast a fleeting glance my way and smirked again. "Want me to take responsibility?"

I genuinely admired him. Facing a situation like this, he was still calmly filling out charts, as if I had just come in for a routine check-up.

"I just don't know what to do." I hadn't come here to trap him into taking responsibility. I was just totally lost and needed his input. "I should get an abortion, right?" I probed carefully.

Outwardly, I kept a straight face, but my palms were slick with sweat.

He kept writing, completely unbothered, like we were discussing the weather.

Jerk.

His absolute composure was driving me insane.

"Up to you." He suddenly looked up, his dark eyes locking onto mine, completely devoid of emotion. "If you don't want it, get rid of it."

"Okay." But could I? Given the current situation

"Scared?" A hint of mockery laced his tone.

"Yes," I admitted, my throat tight.

"Now you're scared" His gaze drifted over me, unreadable. He flipped to a fresh page of the chart and smirked. "That doesn't sound like the girl from that night."

[Me: ???]

Remembering his half-dead state the next morning, I was genuinely terrified to know what exactly I had done to him. But the way he said it, pinning all the blame squarely on me, sparked a flash of irritation.

"It wasn't entirely my fault," I muttered, my voice so low I could barely hear myself.

His pen stopped moving. He raised a brow at me, a sudden, wicked grin breaking across his serious face. "I was running a high fever that night. Did you really think I had the strength to fight you off?"

Well that shut me up entirely.

Chapter 3

No strength to fight me off, but plenty of strength to wreck me? Typical player. He tossed out these mortifying details like we were discussing the weather. He was way out of my league in this twisted game.

"If you've made up your mind" He went quiet, his pen scratching across the medical chart. He finished the last line, let out a slow breath, and looked up. "Next week, then."

"Next week?"

"That's when I have an opening in my schedule," he explained.

"Okay."

Adults had to pay the price for their actions. I had no right to argue, but a cold knot of anxiety tightened in my chest.

A week later, I stood outside his office again. My resolve to go through with the procedure was crumbling.

It started with a family dinner at my mom's house this week. My stepdad, my little brother, my momthe table was loud and full of life. But when I got back to my cramped apartment, the silence was deafening. The warm scenes from dinner kept replaying in my head, and an unprecedented wave of isolation washed over me, heavy and suffocating.

My parents divorced when I was little. I stayed with my mom, but I had been living in dorms since middle school, right around the time she met my stepdad and started a new family. She was happy, and I should be thrilled for her. But standing alone in my apartment, I just felt a bone-deep exhaustion.

Suddenly, I wanted to keep this baby.

I was just so damn lonely.

I knew Beckett would never agree to it. No man in his right mind would. Besides, he probably had a girlfriend. So, even as I sat in his office again, I was still agonizing over the decision.

"Mrs. Beckett, looking for our star doctor again?" This had to be Jasper, the guy Beckett had mentioned before.

"Yeah." I sat there, shifting awkwardly in my seat. "Please stop calling me that," I hissed at him.

"Don't be shy." Jasper instantly leaned in, glancing around before dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "We've had a running bet for years on who would finally tame the ice-cold Dr. Beckett Never expected it to be you. We're all deeply impressed."

"Huh?" My brain short-circuited. I lowered my voice. "You guys have it all wrong We aren't"

I gave up trying to explain the unexplainable and just threw out, "Doesn't he have a girlfriend? Don't spread rumors."

"Who?" His face instantly turned serious. "Why haven't I heard about this?"

"" Now I was even more confused. Beckett didn't have a girlfriend? Had I completely misread the situation with that female doctor?

"Wait, are you saying Dr. Beckett is seeing another woman behind your back?"

"?" I didn't even know where to begin. I was the "other" woman in this scenario.

"Do you have too much free time on your hands?" A low voice drifted from above as a tall shadow fell over us.

Beckett.

I shot to my feet, heat flooding my cheeks like I'd just been caught passing notes in class. "I" I started to say.

Jasper practically jumped out of his skin, grabbed a random medical chart to look busy, and bolted out the door.

"Not you." Once Jasper was gone, Beckett's tone softened. He reached out and ruffled my hair, gesturing for me to sit down before taking the seat behind his desk.

A flush crept up my neck. Why did he always do that? Didn't he know patting my head felt way too intimate and embarrassingly condescending at the same time?

"Why are you always so terrified of me?" He cast a sudden, unreadable look my way. "Am I that scary?"

I sat back down, my muscles tense. "No. It's just you're older you feel like"

"Like what?" A spark of amusement lit up his dark eyes.

"A professor," I answered honestly.

"A professor?" A dark, incredulous laugh escaped his chest. "How old are you?"

"Twenty-two next month." My confidence wilted under his intense gaze.

When a guy who was usually that intense suddenly smiled, it was absolutely lethal. Especially when he had a face carved by the gods.

"A little young." He dropped the smile, his eyes darkening as if calculating something I couldn't decipher. "Wait here." He suddenly stood up and headed to the adjoining room to change.

Chapter 4

I paced the small space, my nails digging half-moons into my palms. The few minutes I waited felt like an eternity. Jasper's casual comment about Beckett being single had completely upended my resolve.

I was twenty-two and had never been in a real relationship. And Beckett from his looks to the way he carried himself, to his impressive careerhe checked every box I didn't even know I had. Well, except for the whole "heartless player" part. A crazy thought wormed its way into my brain: maybe we could actually try to make this work.

Finally, I scraped together my courage, walked over to the door of his changing room, and knocked lightly.

"Dr. Beckett? I want to ask you something." I curled my hands into tight fists.

Honestly, I didn't have the guts to say this to his face. A solid wooden door between us was the only way I could force the words out.

Silence stretched from the other side. I hesitated, then pushed past the lump in my throat.

"Do you have a girlfriend? Because if you don't could we try to date? I want to keep the baby."

Forcing those words out drained every ounce of energy in my body. I stood frozen outside the door, bracing myself for the executioner's axe.

The door swung open. But it wasn't his verdict waiting for me. It was a booming voice blaring from his phone's speaker.

"Keep it! That is the heir to the Beckett family! If you let her suffer even a little bit, I will freeze every single one of your trust funds! You bring my granddaughter-in-law and my great-grandchild back safe and sound, right this instant!"

Beckett leaned casually against the doorframe, shoving the glowing phone directly into my face before turning back to button his shirt. The sheer volume blasting from the speaker was enough to broadcast the caller's absolute fury to the entire floor.

"Who is this?" I took the phone like it was a live grenade, my heart hammering against my ribs.

"My grandfather." He rubbed his temples, a helpless smirk playing on his lips.

"Ah granddaughter-in-law, is that you? Don't you worry about a thing. The second that brat Beckett gets home, I'm breaking his legs. How dare he bully you The baby must be kept"

His grandfather launched into a passionate, endless monologue. My toes curled in my shoes from sheer embarrassment. I just stood there, nodding like an idiot to a screen, mumbling, "Yes, sir."

Meanwhile, Beckett listened to the whole thing with absolute detachment, strolling right back to his desk to fill out more medical charts. Was he even human? I was dying inside.

By the time I finally hung up, a dull ringing echoed in my ears. I walked over and slid the phone onto his desk, keeping my eyes glued to the floor.

"You really know how to stir up trouble" He glanced up at me and let out a heavy sigh.

"I didn't know you were on a call." I winced.

"Whatever. Just ignore him." He stood up, clearly done with the conversation.

"Dr. Beckett, did you hear what I said earlier?" I pushed, desperate for an answer.

"My grandfather heard it loud and clear. What do you think?" he countered smoothly.

"Oh." I held my breath, waiting.

"Think about it some more."

That was a rejection.

The blood drained from my face, and my fingers turned icy cold. I stood rooted to the spot.

"Why?" I honestly admired my own stubbornness, asking a question like that after practically being shot down.

He froze for a split second, then let out a low breath. "You're too innocent. Too clean. My world is complicated, and I am no saint."

He held my gaze, his dark eyes intense and his voice dropping to a gravelly whisper. "You'd be completely swallowed whole."

I didn't know how to process that kind of raw intensity. Heat flooded my cheeks.

I had no idea how I managed to walk out of his office. My brain just kept replaying his final, parting shot on an endless loop: The best way to fix a mistake is to cut your losses immediately, not cover it up with another mistake.

I told him I was canceling the procedure for today and practically sprinted out of the hospital.

Two days later, just as I had completely given up hope, my phone started blowing up. The Beckett family had found me.

His grandfather, his grandmother, his maternal grandparents, his parents, his aunts, his uncles

I fielded so many calls in a single day I thought I was going to have a mental breakdown. They all hammered home the exact same message: the baby was staying, and they would handle Beckett.

As for how they planned to handle him?

I figured no mortal man could withstand a barrage of guilt-tripping from an entire wealthy bloodline.

Sure enough, the very next day, Beckett was standing right outside the front door of my cramped apartment.

Chapter 5

"What are you doing here?" I stared at the man leaning against the wall outside my door.

He took a slow drag from a cigarette. His face was deathly pale. A scattering of crushed cigarette butts littered the floor around his boots.

"Handling my little problem." He crushed the cigarette out, reached over to ruffle my hair, and smoothly pushed past me into my apartment.

"I'm sorry. I have no idea how your grandfather got my number." The tension radiating off him was palpable.

He didn't answer. He just dropped onto the corner of my worn-out couch.

"I was on call all night. Just need to crash for two hours. Mind if I borrow your couch?"

"Oh, sure." I scrambled to sweep a pile of stuffed animals off the cushions.

No wonder he looked like walking death. As he stretched out, it became painfully obvious that my cheap loveseat was way too small for his frame. His long legs dangled awkwardly over the armrest. It had to be excruciatingly uncomfortable, but he was out cold within seconds.

He had asked me to wake him in exactly two hours. But when the time came, his face was still buried deep in the cushions, his exhaustion so raw I couldn't bring myself to do it.

I didn't have to. Exactly on the two-hour mark, his eyes snapped open.

He checked the heavy mechanical watch on his wrist. "8:30. They're open." He sat up, the exhaustion magically wiped clean from his features, replaced by a razor-sharp alertness.

"What's open?" I asked, my stomach twisting. I had been sitting on pins and needles for two hours. After his blunt rejection in the office, his sudden appearance in my apartment set my nerves on edge.

"Do you have your birth certificate and ID here?" His dark eyes locked onto mine.

My heart skipped a beat. "No. My mom keeps all my important documents."

He held my gaze for a long moment, then let out a low chuckle. "Guess we're making a trip."

Before my brain could process what was happening, his SUV pulled up outside my mom's apartment building.

"Clara." He suddenly cut the engine and looked at me.

"Yeah?"

"Are you sure about this?"

"About what?" My brain was completely short-circuiting, but I nodded out of pure habit. "Yeah."

"Everything I said in my office was true. I'm busy. Six days a week, I basically live at the hospital. On my one day off, I'm usually on call."

"I am exactly the kind of guy who gets out of bed, throws on his clothes, and walks away without looking back." He stared at me, an unreadable shadow crossing his face.

"Oh, I get it. Doctors saving lives. Very noble." I had absolutely no idea how to respond to that intense confession.

He stared at me for a long second, as if trying to dissect the lie behind my eyes. I shrank back against the leather seat.

"Alright then." He opened his door and practically dragged me upstairs.

In the span of a single dinner, he smoothly and completely won my mom over. By the time I stood outside City Hall holding our marriage certificate, my brain was still struggling to catch up. Even though this was a flash marriage with zero emotional foundation, looking up at the tall, broad-shouldered man beside memy newly minted, legally binding husband radiating an intoxicating, untouchable auramy heart couldn't help but skip a beat.

Right outside City Hall, he tossed a set of keys into my hands, turned around, and headed straight back to the hospital. He completely vanished.

I felt ridiculous sitting all alone in his massive, empty apartment, so I just packed my bag and moved right back into my own cramped place.

Chapter 6

"Not home?" His text came through a few days later.

I let out a dry, self-deprecating laugh. He finally remembered I existed.

"Out with a friend." I was at the mall with my best friend, Kendall, when his message popped up.

"You have the day off?" I shot another text back. Absolute radio silence.

A spark of irritation flared in my chest. What the hell was his deal?

I refused to let it go. My thumbs flew across the screen again. "Dinner tonight?"

Nothing. Hours passed without a single word. I gave up.

Walking through the mall, my mood tanked completely. The more I thought about it, the hotter the annoyance burned. Almost nobody knew about the shotgun wedding, but Kendall did.

"Wait, you guys got married and you haven't even slept in the same bed once?" She stared at me, eyes wide with disbelief.

"He's incredibly busy," I deflected. Even to my own ears, the excuse sounded pathetic.

"Busy or not, he's still a guy You're telling me he doesn't have needs?" Kendall's words hit me like a splash of ice water.

I knew exactly what she was implying. Was he getting it somewhere else? The image of that female doctor practically throwing herself at him in his office flashed through my mind.

But we didn't have any real foundation. He probably only married me because his family backed him into a corner. I didn't exactly have the right to put him on a leash. The thought twisted my stomach into a tight knot.

Later that night, I went back to his place anyway. I scanned the massive, empty apartment. Nothing. He had left.

A weird, hollow sting of disappointment hit my chest.

I walked into the master bedroom, standing right by the closet to change before hitting the shower.

The second I unclasped my bra and let it drop

"You're back." A deep, gravelly voice drifted through the room.

I jumped out of my skin, my arms instinctively flying up to cover my chest. I spun around. The top half of Beckett's face was peeking out from under the thick duvet.

"Why didn't you say anything?!" A cold sweat broke out across my back.

He pulled the blanket down a fraction, shifting higher against the headboard. His dark, burning gaze dragged slowly over me. "Did you genuinely not know I was home, or was this on purpose?"

A lazy smirk played on his lips as his eyes continued their unapologetic, sweeping assessment of my body.

"You jerk!" He ghosts me for days, and the second he's back, he's shamelessly ogling me. Total player.

Heat scorching my cheeks, I snatched a shirt off the rack and yanked it over my head. I stormed into the bathroom, feeling the heavy weight of his stare burning right through me. Even when I walked back out, his gaze was still locked on me, that infuriating smirk never leaving his face.

My skin prickled. "What are you staring at? Shouldn't you be asleep?"

The usual ice-cold doctor persona had vanished, replaced by an intoxicating, lazy confidence. "Slept all day. I'm wide awake now."

Slept all day? Was that why he completely ignored my texts? I hated to admit it, but some of the tension instantly drained from my shoulders.

"Well, I'm going to sleep," I muttered, still refusing to give him an inch. If he could go days without seeing or contacting me, I wasn't about to swallow my pride and get chatty now.

I hovered in place, debating whether to take the bed or march out to the couch. Then it hit mewe were legally married. I gritted my teeth, climbed right into the massive bed, yanked the covers up, and turned my back to him.

The space beside me went completely still.

I couldn't help myself. I peeked over my shoulder. He was scrolling through a food delivery app on his phone.

"You haven't eaten?" I asked.

"Didn't have time," he replied simply.

I took a closer look at him. Even after sleeping all day, the raw exhaustion still clung to his features. How absolutely drained did a person have to be to sleep straight through meals? Was this what every doctor's life looked like?

"Where did you stay the past few days?" I couldn't stop the question from slipping out.

He shot me a glance, clearly surprised I was asking. "The hospital."

He'd rather sleep at the hospital than come back to his own luxury apartment? Now I just felt like I had forced him out of his own home. I clamped my mouth shut.

"A patient took a bad turn a few days ago. I couldn't leave." He tossed his phone onto the nightstand and locked eyes with me.

All the defensive anger I'd built up instantly dissolved. A soft, strange warmth started spreading through my chest.

"Oh," I mumbled. The air in the room suddenly felt thick, crackling with an unfamiliar tension