dr robby, down bad divorcee
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Logic leaves you when he leans in to nose at your neck. Your last was Robby, always Robby, with his wide eyes and wider hands, the scent of antiseptic hidden by the fresh laundry detergent you used to share. “Missed you, baby.” He slurs, open mouth planting wet kisses on your jaw, your throat, the shoulders covered by your shirt. It’s still a dream, has to be, so you’re not afraid to cover his hand with your own. You lightly brush over his wedding ring tan, and he doesn’t comment on it. Just shifts his hips a little to bring himself closer to you, warmth radiating off him in waves. Robby always ran cold, always had to have one of those stupid hoodies on, but to you he was as warm as melted spring snow.
Maybe that’s why you reach for the hem of his shirt.
Series
- Part 1 of dr robby, down bad divorcee
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It was a few hours into your book when you realized you’d made a terrible, terrible mistake.
It had been the first cafe to catch your eye, advertising a yummy pastry you’d been aching to try on a beautiful late Saturday morning. Only after you’d noticed the fourth person in scrubs at the counter did you realize your mistake. The cafe had two entrances - one on the busy street you came in on, the other right outside of Pittsburg Medical Center.
Current workplace of your ex-husband.
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or dr robby is a divorced man who folds for his ex the moment he sees her
Series
- Part 2 of dr robby, down bad divorcee