"This is a bad idea." "You have a husband." "You're my doctor." "You've got a baby coming."

This was a bad idea. A completely, totally, horrible idea. Crushes came often, but one on your doctor? The one you have to see every month? It's almost absurd. The two of you sat in the examination room, giving each other reasons as to why the two of you should never happen. He seemed so closed off, there was no chance of anything happening. Maybe you thought wrong.

Either way, it would never work. You were pregnant—very pregnant, knocked up by a man that couldn't care less about you. Getting to know Jack—as gruff as the man was—felt like freedom. It had been the first time in a while that you had met a man that wasn't angry or mean. He listened to you, took care of you (albeit, it was his job), and you liked that.

That's how it started. The interactions that were a little less than professional, the brief yet longing glances, bringing him baked goods every so often, the touches that lingered a little too long. You both slowly opened up about your lives to one another. He knew all about the type of guy that was waiting for you at home. Nothing made sense, but with him, it felt like it nothing had to. Your life was a mess so far, what would this change? An affair with Dr. Jack Abbot was an utterly bad idea, sure, but maybe a bad idea was exactly what you needed.