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What the hell does this guy do when he isn't delivering babies and crusading for equality in women's healthcare? Deadlift canned goods at the soup kitchen? Save puppies from trees? I bet right at this moment there's a line of really hot, forty-year-old divorcées waiting outside his professionally organized, sustainably powered townhouse, just waiting for their chance to rip his scrubs off.
The less official reason, known only to the bride, groom, maid of honor, and myself, is that Evie asked them to leave.
