Forbidden Love [COMPLETED]

Chapter 2

Becky walked into one of the operating rooms at Bangkok General, her heart racing. The room buzzed with activity—doctors, nurses, interns—all moving with a sense of purpose. The smell of antiseptic lingered in the air, and the hum of machinery seemed to echo in her veins.

This was it. The start of everything she had dreamed about since childhood—following in her mother's footsteps. Becoming a doctor. Saving lives. The thought of standing in this very room, performing surgeries, and helping others in the same space her mother had once worked, filled her with a sense of purpose.

Her mother's legacy was heavy on her shoulders, but it also fueled her resolve. This was her calling.

Dr. Heng, the attending physician giving the tour, stopped suddenly, crossing his arms over his chest. His eyes swept over the group of interns, his tone shifting from informative to something more serious.

"You all come in here hopeful. Wanting to be part of the game. A month ago, you were med students, learning from doctors. Today, you are the doctors. The next seven years of your life will be both the best and the worst. You'll be pushed beyond your limits. Look around. This is your competition. Some of you will change specialties. Others will crack under the pressure. Many will be asked to leave. This is your starting line. Your arena. How well you play? That's up to you."

Becky stood in the intern locker room, pulling on her scrubs, when a doctor entered, calling for them to gather. A list of residents assigned to each intern was posted on the wall. Becky's eyes scanned it, her mind racing with hope. She needed a mentor who would teach her everything—who would make her a great doctor, just like her mother.

"Which resident did you get?" a brunette girl asked as she joined Becky at the list.

"I got Dr. Noey, though she's an attending," the girl added, almost proudly.

"Wait, attendings take interns?" Becky asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Some do. It's a good deal. They know more than the residents," the girl replied, shrugging.

Becky moved to the front of the list, her fingers quickly tracing the names. When she found hers, she hesitated. "Dr. Chankimha," she read aloud.

The girl's eyes widened, and she let out a soft gasp. "Oh! Dr. Chankimha? She's the best. She's an attending, too! How did you get her? I wanted her."

Becky wasn't sure what to make of that. "Is she really that good?"

The girl looked at her like she was from another planet. "You don't know her? She's the head of neurosurgery. And—" she paused, eyes glittering "—she's gorgeous. The whole hospital is lining up for her, including the patients. But she never seems interested. Lucky you."

Becky swallowed hard, the weight of her new reality sinking in. "Thanks," she muttered, unsure how to feel about the attention Dr. Chankimha seemed to command.

"I'm Irin, by the way," the girl added.

"Becky."

"See you at lunch," Irin said, flashing a grin before walking off.

Becky stayed behind, staring at the list for a moment longer, lost in thought. She had no idea who Dr. Chankimha was, but if what Irin said was true, she was about to enter a world of intense competition.

Becky wandered through the maze of hallways, looking for Dr. Chankimha's office. She passed doctors and patients alike, but the woman was nowhere to be found. After a few minutes, she spotted Dr. Heng again and asked for directions.

"Dr. Chankimha? She's right there," he said, pointing to the room ahead before walking away.

Becky's heart skipped a beat. She took a deep breath and pushed open the door.

And froze.

Standing in front of her was none other than the woman who had been in her bed just hours ago.

The moment their eyes met, time seemed to stretch. Becky felt the color drain from her face. Dr. Chankimha—Freen—took a brief glance at her, then stopped. Her gaze sharpened, focused entirely on Becky, her lips curling into a soft, knowing smile.

Becky's pulse quickened. She turned on her heel, desperate to escape the inevitable awkwardness.

Before she could make it more than a few steps down the hallway, a hand grabbed her arm and yanked her into a stairwell.

Freen. Of course.

Becky stumbled back, her heart pounding in her chest. "Oh—hi, Dr. Chankimha."

Freen's smile deepened, amusement dancing in her eyes. "Dr. Chankimha? As if you don't know my name?"

Becky's mouth went dry. "Listen, we should just pretend it never happened. Forget it."

Freen's eyes flickered, and she stepped closer, her voice low. "What exactly should I forget? The part where you begged me to touch you everywhere?" Her tone turned teasing, dangerous. "Or the part where you kicked me out of your house? Because I'd really like to remember the first part."

Becky's stomach twisted in embarrassment. She squeezed her eyes shut, forcing herself to stay composed. "No. No memories. And no more rounds. That was one time."

She raised a finger between them, as if to make herself clear. But Freen's gaze slid from her eyes to her finger, lingering there with a predatory gleam.

"Just one... stupid..." Freen closed the space between them, lifting Becky's finger to her lips, pressing a soft kiss to it. Then she started to lean in, her lips just inches from Becky's skin. But suddenly, Becky snapped back to reality.

"No!" she gasped, pulling away. "I said we're done. We're not strangers in a bar anymore. You're my attending, and I'm your intern."

Freen's smile didn't falter. Instead, it grew, wicked and teasing. "At least you're my something."

Becky's frustration boiled over. She pushed Freen away, her voice sharp. "I'm serious."

Freen tilted her head, her expression shifting to something more vulnerable. "So you used me, and now you want me to forget? That's not very nice."

Becky's breath caught. "I didn't—"

"I was drunk, vulnerable, and—let's face it—good-looking," Freen said, her voice dipping lower.

Becky forced a smile, though it didn't reach her eyes. "I was drunk too. And you're just... a girl. Like any other."

Freen's eyes narrowed, the playful glint replaced by something more intense. "Just a girl, huh?"

Becky stood her ground, but her voice shook. "Yes."

Freen's expression darkened. "So I'm not your attending anymore?" Her voice was suddenly laced with a challenge, a promise of something more.

Becky couldn't take it. This was too much. Too soon. "This is... inappropriate," she said, her voice breaking. "Stop looking at me like that."

She wanted to run. She wanted to escape this whole situation. Maybe if she jumped from the stairwell, she could wipe her mind clean—forget everything that had happened.

But she couldn't. So she turned away.

"I have to go."

Freen stood still, watching her leave, her sigh echoing in the stairwell. Becky's heart was pounding as she walked away, leaving the tension and confusion behind, but it wasn't enough. Not yet.

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