Chapter 4

Listening to him speak to Sandra with that kind of warmth — I was suddenly back there. The messages. The screenshots. The things men I'd never met thought it was fine to write to me.

When I'd gone after Sandra in a blind rage, Ethan had stepped between us and turned on me instead.

"That stream was a contribution to medicine. It was a noble thing. The only reason you'd have a problem with it is if you have a filthy mind."

He'd said it like he meant it.

He never once thought about what came after. What I was supposed to do with my life once that footage was out in the world.

He'd thrown my life away without a second thought — just to give Sandra a shortcut to a promotion.

He loved her that much. Funny he didn't volunteer himself for the table.

I was furious, but I didn't make a sound.

He couldn't know that I already knew about the stream. Not yet. That would ruin everything.

I held my breath and waited for him to finish the call and leave.

The voice on the other end said something. Ethan gave a low, quiet laugh, then hung up.

But he didn't leave. After a few seconds of silence, he sniffed the air and muttered to himself.

"What is that? Did Summer leave something in here?"

I pressed myself back — too slow.

He yanked the curtain open. We stared at each other.

Then his face changed.

"You heard everything, didn't you."

I knew that going quiet would only make things worse — he'd read it as guilt, and his paranoia would spiral from there. So instead, I let the anger out.

"Yes. I heard all of it." I looked straight at him. "I can't believe you would do this, Ethan. A livestream? Of my entire surgery? Do you understand what that means? It's a gynecological procedure. Once that's out there — how am I supposed to face anyone? What does that do to my life?"

His face darkened.

He'd been so focused on making Sandra happy that he'd agreed without really thinking it through. Now, caught out and knowing it, he fell back on attack.

"There's nothing wrong with it! To a doctor, it's just a routine procedure. Can you stop making everything dirty? This is normal medical education content."

He looked me over with contempt.

"And honestly? You're not exactly young anymore. You really think anyone's going to be watching for the reason you're imagining? Don't flatter yourself."

I stared at him harder.

"So being older makes it okay to humiliate me? If you're so committed to the cause of medical science, Ethan — why don't you get on the table? Let Sandra stream you. Go ahead."

"That's completely different and you know it —"

"Because she's in gynecology? I know." I cut him off. "The real reason you're fine with this is that it's not happening to you."

He shifted tactics, his voice turning contemptuous.

"You know what your problem is? You're jealous. You're jealous that Sandra is accomplished and successful and doing something meaningful. So you want to drag her down. You're being completely irrational."

"This is standard procedure. If it weren't you, it'd be someone else. I'm giving you the chance to be part of something worthwhile — and you're too selfish to see it. Keep this up, and I want a divorce."

The word landed.

I let my face fall. I looked down. I went quiet.

At that moment, his mother appeared in the doorway, drawn by the noise.

"What is all this shouting? Some of us are trying to sleep."

Ethan almost turned to her — almost made it her problem — but then he remembered how she'd defended me at dinner. He swallowed whatever he'd been about to say.

She was traditional. She would never understand the livestream. He couldn't risk it.

He switched to a breezy, dismissive tone.

"Nothing, Mom. Just a little couple's spat. You know how it is. Go back to bed — we're fine."

He shot me one last hard look, then steered his still-grumbling mother out of the bathroom and closed the door behind them.