Triplets For The Doctor
Achunike francisca · Ongoing · 29.0k Words
Introduction
Chapter 1
CHAPTER 1
J O E L
Taking
a
deep
breath,
I
looked
at
myself
in
the
car’s
mirror. “Remember. You’re one of the best.”
Closing the mirror, I reached for the door handle—then paused. I flipped open the mirror again. “No. You’re the best.”
The words did nothing. Affirmations were bull.
Snapping the mirror closed, I got out of my car and slammed the door. My chest twisted as I stalked across the parking lot and entered the clinic.
“Good morning,” the receptionist, Abigail, said.
I grunted in response, and her lips pursed as she looked away.
Sure, I knew I was being a jerk, but could you really blame me? With a ten- hour surgery ahead, all my muscles were bunched up tight.
“I just came to check in on some things.” I turned for my office, in the opposite direction of the waiting room.
I was due at the hospital in thirty minutes, but I had correspondence to catch up on until then.
“About that,” Abigail said.
My lips turned down. “What about it?” “The anesthesiologist called. She’s sick.”
I shrugged. “Okay. So they’re finding a stand-in?”
She slowly shook her head. “There’s no one available.” I bit back a curse.
In all honesty, I didn’t like performing these day-long surgeries. At the start of my career, there had been a sense of relief and accomplishment afterward, but lately that had been waning.
And the hours preceding the surgeries always made me feel like a wild animal in a cage.
Still. If the surgery was postponed, that just meant I had more time to wait around for it.
I sighed and raked my fingers through my hair. “All right. You have my calendar. Reschedule it for me, please.”
“I already did. There’s an anesthesiologist available tomorrow.” “Great. Thank you.”
With that, I went into my office and powered up the computer. Getting through my emails took only about fifteen minutes, and then I was left staring at the screen.
Sure, I could have written the emails on my phone, from anywhere. Driving into the office had been a nice distraction, though.
Now here I was, with the rest of the day ahead of me.
Luckily, I always kept my gym bag in the car, packed with clean clothes.
The energy that had been rushing through me since before sunrise was still there. For some reason, my brain hadn’t gotten the memo that the surgery was off.
A good hour or two in the gym would take care of that. I would work out until I was too tired to go anymore, then maybe drive to my favorite breakfast diner.
After that…
I didn’t want to think about what came after that. Empty days were my least favorite thing.
There had to be someone I could call. One of my friends from the hospital, or a girl.
The latter thought made me grimace. The last few dates I’d been on had been awful. The women had been so bland, so one-dimensional.
No matter that they were all good-looking. Here in Los Angeles, pretty faces were a dime a dozen. What good was beauty if you didn’t have something to back it up with?
Striding out the clinic’s front door, I unlocked my car from a distance. Going to a bar to meet people was off the table. I hadn’t hung out in a bar since… never.
“Excuse me,” a voice said.
I stopped and took off my sunglasses. A petite woman with long, strawberry hair stood in the shade in front of the clinic. She was dressed in jeans and one of those blouses with puffy sleeves, and she blinked big blue eyes at me.
I stopped my mouth from falling open just in time. Man, this girl was gorgeous.
“Yes?” I asked.
She took a timid step toward me. “Are you Doctor Joel Galvin?” “That’s me. What did I do wrong?”
Though I said it like it was a joke, I was also half serious. I may not have frequented bars, but I wasn’t exactly an angel. Did I know this woman? Had we run into each other before?
No. I would have remembered her. A face like that you didn’t forget.
“No.” Her laugh was light. “Nothing wrong. I’m sorry for interrupting your morning, but I…” She wrung her hands.
I cocked my head. “Are you all right? Do you need some help?”
Alarm spread across her face. “Oh, no. It’s nothing like that. I came here to thank you.”
“Thank me?” The words sounded strange.
She nodded. “We’ve never met, but you performed a lung transplant on my mother five years ago. Lillian Rogan. I know you probably don’t remember her—”
“I remember her.”
The girl dropped her hands. “You do?”
“Yes.” I remembered most of my patients. Even the surgeries that were inconsequential. I still wasn’t sure why.
She nodded her head. “Yeah. She, uh, she lived another five years after that.” Her eyes filled with tears. “Another really good five years. I came here to thank you for that.”
The sight of her crying made my chest hurt. I wanted to reach out my hand and comfort her, but even though she knew my name, we were still strangers. She probably wouldn’t have welcomed the touch.
“That’s good to hear.” My smile was tight, my throat on fire.
The girl sniffed. “She died earlier this year, but we really got some good times before that. I’m sorry.” She reached into her purse and pulled out a tissue. “I didn’t plan on coming over here and crying all over the place.”
I shook my head. “It’s fine. Really. I have to say, people don’t usually come to thank me in person. Usually, they send a card or a fruit basket.”
Her face froze in horror. “Should I have done that instead?”
“No,” I rushed to say. “I wasn’t suggesting that. I’m glad you came. It was… I appreciate it.”
Her shoulders dropped in relief. “It was her birthday yesterday, so that had me thinking about everything, and I just wanted you to know how grateful my whole family is.”
“I’m glad you came.”
She put the tissue back in her purse. “I’m sorry. I should let you go. It looked like you were in a rush to get somewhere.”
I glanced at my car. “Not really. My surgery for today has been rescheduled.”
“Oh. In that case, can I buy you a cup of coffee? It’s not a fruit basket, but maybe they’ll have a banana there.”
I chuckled. “The fruit baskets aren’t all they’re made out to be, anyway. Usually the fruit isn’t ripe.”
She smiled, and the day became twice as sunny. “I don’t know if I believe you or not, but thank you. That makes me feel a little better.” She stuck out her hand. “I’m Katie, by the way. Katie Rogan.”
I shook her hand, which was small and soft. “Joel Galvin.” “I know.”
“Right.” I let her hand go, even though I didn’t want to.
“Anyway.” She adjusted the purse strap on her shoulder. “I really don’t want to take up your time if—”
“Coffee sounds great.”
Her smile returned. “Okay. Awesome.”
“There’s a spot just around the corner from here. With orange umbrellas. Have you been?”
“No. I don’t really come to this neighborhood much.” “Maybe I should show you around, then.”
“You seem to be an expert.”
I shrugged. “I don’t want to brag… but sure, why not?” She bit into her smile, and my pulse picked up.
This girl was gorgeous and funny. And she’d dropped right out of the sky on an empty morning that I wanted to escape from.
I needed a distraction, and lucky for me it looked like she could provide exactly that.
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Mom said, "After the surgery, we'll make it up to you."
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Three months later .
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My six-year-old son looked coldly at his biological father and said, "Get lost, you bad uncle! You don't deserve to be my dad!"
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When he said he was being bullied, I believed him. When he kissed me on that rooftop, I thought he felt the same. When he asked me to transfer schools with him, I said yes without hesitation.
Then I heard him bragging to his friends: "She'd save her first time for me. Hell, she'd still be thinking of me on her wedding night."
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I left the country.
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I Died While They Threw Her a Party
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They threw her a party at a downtown hotel while I died alone in my room.
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When my husband Allen took my hand with tears in his eyes and said, "Only you can save her," I agreed without hesitation.
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Heartbroken, I tricked him into signing divorce papers.
George remained unconcerned, convinced I would never leave him.
His deceptions continued until the day the divorce was finalized. I threw the papers in his face: "George Capulet, from this moment on, get out of my life!"
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When his calls bombarded my phone later that night, it wasn't me who answered, but my new boyfriend Julian.
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And then, just as quickly… he sees me.
His expression twists.
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Once they are brought to him he finds himself once again facing his mate and discovers that she's hiding secrets that will make him want to kill more than one person.
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Shattered Girl
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Emmy Nichols is used to surviving. She survived her abusive father for years until he beat her so severely, she ended up in the hospital, and her father was finally arrested. Now, Emmy is thrown into a life she never expected. Now she has a mother
who doesn't want her, a politically motivated stepfather with ties to the Irish mob, four older stepbrothers, and their best friend who swear to love and protect her. Then, one night, everything shatters, and Emmy feels her only option is to run.
When her stepbrothers and their best friend finally find her, will they pick up the pieces and convince Emmy that they will keep her safe and their love will hold them together?
