Chapter 102 Why Does Everyone Like Dr. Spencer
Matilda tumbled into Wentworth's arms, the sudden movement startling her. But when she met his eyes, she couldn't help laughing.
"You're so childish!"
"Am I?"
"Yes! You're a total child!" She reached up to tickle him.
They wrestled playfully on the bed for a while before settling down.
"What time did you get back last night?" she asked, running her fingers over the stubble on his chin.
"Five." He rubbed his beard against her face, making her squirm away.
"So you only got two hours of sleep?"
"No duty this morning. I can sleep more later."
"But I have to get back to work." She rested her head on his chest, reluctance clear in her voice.
"Call in."
"I can't. What if there's an emergency?"
After holding her a bit longer, he finally let her go.
"Let me drive you back," Wentworth said.
"No need. I already arranged for yesterday's driver to pick me up."
"Is he safe?"
"Yeah, I see him around town all the time picking up passengers. He's a good guy, and his rates are fair."
"Then let me grab you breakfast from the mess hall."
"Really, I'm fine. I've got bread back at my place. I'll just have that." Matilda gave him a stern look. "You rest. Don't you dare get up, or I'll be mad."
Wentworth reluctantly agreed. But as soon as she left, he texted Danny to keep an eye on her from a distance.
After leaving Wentworth's quarters, Matilda straightened herself up meticulously—hair perfect, clothes neat as a pin. Coming to see him was technically within regulations, but spending the night was another matter. Walking out of her husband's quarters first thing in the morning could invite gossip.
She hurried out of the building but still ran into Rick and some others outside.
"Good morning," Rick greeted her.
"Morning," she mumbled back, ducking her head and practically jogging out the gate.
Rick looked puzzled. Why was she in such a rush? Family members visiting military housing was perfectly normal. Maybe she was late for work?
...
Ethan woke up in the restaurant's back room as daylight broke. Opening his eyes to the same setup as yesterday morning, he froze for a moment before memory came flooding back.
He'd gotten drunk last night. Again.
He smacked himself in the forehead. Why did everyone else seem to handle their liquor fine while he ended up wasted every time? Was there something wrong with that wine?
Checking the time, he realized he needed to get to the clinic soon. He scrambled out of bed and pushed open the door to find Carol sweeping the courtyard.
Her skin was fair, her hair pulled back in several braids, and she wore a floral dress that gave her an effortless charm.
But the moment he saw that dress, fragments from last night flashed through his mind—him on his knees, clinging to her leg, sobbing while trying to offer her crab.
Damn it. How mortifying.
Carol turned around just then and saw him. She smiled. "You're up?"
That smile was gorgeous—charming yet somehow healing.
"Y-yeah, I'm up," he managed.
"Last night's room fee comes to sixty bucks," Carol said matter-of-factly, making no mention of his drunken behavior.
"Why'd it go up?" Ethan asked.
"You got my dress dirty last night. Took forever to clean. The extra's a service charge."
Ethan didn't dare haggle. He paid without complaint.
Once the payment cleared, Carol said something unexpected. "You know why everyone in this town likes Dr. Spencer so much?"
"Why?" Ethan asked.
Even after just two days here, he'd noticed how much people adored Matilda. The shopkeeper had mentioned her too, saying how glad he was she finally had help.
He'd assumed it was because of her good temper, pleasant personality, and pretty face.
"People around here might not be highly educated or know fancy theories," Carol said, "but we recognize Dr. Spencer as the kind of doctor we read about in school textbooks. She never shows up hungover. Never runs late. Whatever her patients need, if she can do it, she will. She works tirelessly without complaint."
The words turned Ethan's face crimson down to his neck. He stood there awkwardly, unsure whether to stay or go.
"I'll admit, I came here to pursue her," he said finally. "But liking her doesn't conflict with being a doctor. I haven't abandoned my responsibilities."
Carol shook her head. "I think real dedication starts with taking care of yourself. If you don't even cherish your own body, what dedication can you really offer? Dr. Spencer isn't like that. She radiates energy every single day. When I see her, I immediately feel like she's someone I can trust. But you? Every time I see you, you're drunk."
Ethan's expression grew darker. She was right. His motives for coming here weren't pure. He'd talked about dedication and supporting rural healthcare, but what had he actually done? Spent every day fixating on Matilda, spiraling into despair whenever she and Wentworth showed any affection.
He looked at Carol. "Are you and Matty close?"
"Pretty close, yeah. She eats here a lot."
"Did she used to stay out overnight?"
"Not that I ever saw. She started staying out after you arrived." Carol's tone was blunt.
Ethan laughed bitterly. "So she really doesn't want to live near me."
"Well, it's not exactly appropriate," Carol said. When Dr. MacAllister had been on duty, him staying at the clinic was fine. But a young male doctor and a young female doctor sharing the space? That was different. Limited resources or not, given enough time, people would start talking.
Ethan thought for a moment. "You mentioned renting out rooms, right? I'd like to rent one long-term if you're willing."
"Sure," Carol said with a shrug. She was a businesswoman. Everyone in town knew she was a widow anyway—nobody would gossip about her.
Seeing her agreement, Ethan said, "I'll move in this afternoon then."
"Works for me. Daily or monthly? Daily's fifty bucks, monthly is six hundred—bit cheaper."
...
Matilda arrived back at the clinic in a three-wheeled taxi just as Ethan was coming out of the restaurant. His hair was messy and wild—he clearly just woke up. He hadn't come home again last night?
"Matty, good morning." Ethan hurried over as she got out of the vehicle.
"Morning," Matilda replied coolly.
She'd just come from the military quarters looking impeccable—clothes neat, hair perfectly styled. But Ethan knew she'd spent the night with Wentworth.
"Matty, I'm planning to move out," Ethan said.
"Move where?" Her expression brightened noticeably.
"The restaurant owner rents rooms, right? I'm thinking of taking one."
"Oh, that's great!" Matilda's enthusiasm was immediate. "Carol's wonderful—warm, easygoing, down-to-earth. You'd be much more comfortable there."
Ethan smiled bitterly. She really couldn't wait to be rid of him.
"When are you moving?" Matilda asked.
"Not sure yet. Today or tomorrow, probably."
"If you're going to do it, do it soon. Her rooms are nice—someone might snap them up if you wait."
Ethan felt another stab to the heart. Carol's rooms sat empty most of the year. There was no competition.
"If you need help moving, just say so," Matilda continued cheerfully. "Sarah and I can help."
Clearly, she couldn't wait for him to leave.