"Did you get my instructions?" Vivienne Brooks asked as she started shutting down her computer.

Ethan Shaw studied the prescription carefully. "Yes, I got it."

"Make sure to drink plenty of water after taking this medication. If you don’t, there won’t be enough urine to flush out the system, and the treatment won’t work properly," Vivienne said, leaning closer to point at the prescription sheet.

Ethan felt his face flush as her proximity flustered him. "Okay, thank you," he murmured.

"For complete recovery, you must avoid holding in your urine," Vivienne continued.

Ethan knew that with his job, avoiding that was nearly impossible. He remained silent.

Then, Vivienne took off her white coat, leaned closer, and whispered into his ear, "Why did you block me?"

"Uh..." Ethan was thrown off guard, stammering.

"It must’ve been a mistake. Let me check my phone," he replied, seizing the excuse to fumble with his phone and remove Vivienne from the blocked list.

"I heard from Dr. Monroe that you went on three dates this time. You only dismissed one person—me." Vivienne's tone carried a teasing challenge.

Ethan felt mortified as if his secret was being aired in public. He forced a nervous laugh. "It’s a misunderstanding, haha."

Vivienne stepped forward, pinning him between the desk and the wall. "What misunderstanding?"

Ethan’s face burned as words failed him.

"Am I the worst in your eyes?" Vivienne demanded, her tone tinged with defiance.

"Of course not," Ethan stammered, offering a weak smile.

With Vivienne’s face just inches from his, her scent intoxicating, and her breath brushing against his skin, Ethan felt his pulse quicken. Her beauty, so close and intense, left him disoriented.

"Is it because I performed the rectal exam to you?" she asked with a hint of smugness.

Ethan breathed heavily, his heart racing. This playful yet aggressive intimacy left him at a loss. He was an older bachelor unused to such close contact with women.

Vivienne remained still, her penetrating gaze locking onto him.

Ethan managed to stammer, "You, you’re just... too excellent for me to measure up."

Vivienne allowed a faint smile. "If anything comes up during your treatment, contact me anytime."

"Yes, yes," Ethan said, grabbing his paperwork and fleeing.

The next day, during the bank’s staff meeting, Mr. Thompson publicly chastised Ethan once again.

"Some employees are just hopeless—poor performance, constant absences, always dragging the team down and never showing any initiative."

Ethan sat silently, recalling the countless late nights he’d worked over the past six years, covering for colleagues on vacation, maternity leave, or sick leave. He’d been the one constant, the reliable one, rarely taking time off. But now, after a few sick days and failing to meet a recent target, he’d become the scapegoat.

Finally, he stood and said firmly, "I resign. I won’t hold anyone back anymore."

The room fell silent. No one had expected the usually reserved, hardworking Ethan to make such a bold declaration.

Returning to his desk, Ethan gathered his belongings and typed up his resignation letter.

He slapped the letter onto Mr. Thompson’s desk. "Find someone to take over my tasks. My health won’t allow me to stay past the weekend. If you can’t arrange a handover, I’ll just go on medical leave."

Caught off guard by Ethan’s sudden assertiveness, Mr. Thompson adopted a fake tone of concern.

"Ethan, if you’re facing difficulties, just let me know. We’re all reasonable people here."

Ethan’s voice was icy. "No need for pleasantries. Let’s stick to the labor laws. Process my resignation, deduct whatever you need, and give me my proof of employment."

"Of course, no problem," Mr. Thompson replied, his smile insincere.

Ethan Shaw had considered pursuing a graduate degree when he finished college. Watching his peers either study abroad or enroll in postgraduate programs filled him with envy.

Back then, his mother, Lucy Archer, had used her connections to secure him a job at the bank, calling it "stable."

The truth was, Ethan had been raised by Lucy alone since childhood. She had bound him tightly with maternal love and obligation, ensuring that every major decision—college, career, or otherwise—was made with her in mind.

Ethan’s priorities always revolved around staying close to home, being readily available for his mother, and minimizing her financial burden. He chose convenience over personal ambition, believing it was his duty to provide for her whenever she needed him.

Lucy, weathered by a life of hardship, valued stability above all else. Her vision for Ethan’s future was to work at a nearby bank, marry someone with a government job, and lead a quiet, uneventful life.

Until today, Ethan had never dared to challenge her expectations. He believed his purpose in life was to ensure that Lucy’s later years were secure and comfortable.

But now, for the first time, he wanted to live for himself.

It dawned on him that his stifling job and repressive life had reduced him to a man who couldn’t even control his own bladder. Each humiliating dash to the restroom drained what little dignity he had left.

"I quit," Ethan announced at dinner.

Lucy slammed the table and jumped up. "Are you out of your mind? Do you know how hard it is to get a job like this nowadays? Even graduates with master’s and doctoral degrees are fighting for positions like yours!"

"I’m done with it. I’ll find a job that suits me better," Ethan replied, bracing himself for her reaction.

Lucy didn’t let him get another word in, unleashing a tirade.

"Do you have any idea what I’ve sacrificed for you? I worked my fingers to the bone to put you through school. I begged everyone I knew to help you find this job. I’m still out there trying to set you up with someone decent, and this is how you repay me? You’re so ungrateful!"

Ethan remained silent. He’d heard this routine countless times before. Whenever he tried to assert himself, Lucy would guilt-trip him until he caved.

But this time was different. He had made up his mind—he would live his life differently.

"You’re going to march back there tomorrow and withdraw your resignation!" Lucy demanded, slamming the table again.

Ethan calmly swallowed his food and met her fiery gaze. "Mom, I’ve already received my resignation confirmation. I’ll rest for a couple of days, and next week, I’ll start job hunting."

That evening, Lucy erupted into a full-blown meltdown. She yelled, cried, and cursed Ethan’s father, Alexander Shaw, blaming him for everything.

"My life was ruined because of the Shaw family! Alexander Shaw made my life a living hell for years, and now you, Ethan, are determined to make my later years just as miserable!" Lucy wailed, her voice cracking with anguish.

Alexander Shaw, a businessman who achieved financial independence years ago, had divorced Lucy two decades prior. He had since remarried and fathered a daughter, Emily Shaw.

Unlike Ethan, Emily had lived a life of privilege, attending international schools and being sent to study in Singapore two years ago.

Ethan couldn’t help but think that he, too, could have had that kind of life.

That night, he locked himself in his room. He knew Lucy would need a few more days to fully vent her frustrations.

As he debated whether to confide in someone, his phone buzzed with a message from Vivienne Brooks.

She told him he had left his ID card in her office and offered to meet the next day to return it.

Ethan agreed.