The Cardiologist’s Forbidden Trainee

Hospitals had always felt like home to Iris Moore.

Not because they were comforting, but because they were familiar. The smell of antiseptic, the quiet urgency in every footstep, the steady beeping of heart monitors, all of it lived somewhere deep inside her memory.

She adjusted the strap of her bag as she stood at the entrance of Hale Heart Institute, her new workplace, her chest tight with nerves and hope. Today wasn’t just her first day as a trainee. It was the beginning of the life she had built from loss.

Her grandmother’s face flashed in her mind. Wrinkled hands. Warm smiles. A weak heart that had taught Iris what love and fear felt like at the same time.

I’ll save hearts, Iris had promised herself years ago.

Starting with yours, Grandma.

Inside, the hospital moved like a living organism. Doctors in white coats, nurses calling out vitals, interns rushing with files. Iris clutched her ID badge as she was guided to the cardiology wing.

“You’ll be trained directly by the hospital owner,” the administrator said, glancing at her clipboard. “Dr. Nathaniel Hale.”

Iris swallowed. She had read his name countless times in medical journals. A cardiologist known for precision, discipline, and emotional distance.

What she wasn’t prepared for was him.

Dr. Hale stood near a patient’s bed, reviewing an ECG with calm authority. Tall. Broad-shouldered. Dark hair neatly styled. His face was serious, unreadable, yet impossibly striking.

Then he looked up.

Their eyes met.

Something passed between them. Sharp. Sudden. Like a skipped heartbeat.

Nathaniel felt it too. He straightened slightly, unsettled by the unfamiliar pull in his chest. He didn’t believe in instant connections. He believed in science. Control. Boundaries.

“This is Iris Moore,” the administrator introduced. “Your new trainee.”

Nathaniel studied her briefly. Too briefly. Her eyes were expressive, intelligent, guarded. Not the kind of eyes you forgot easily.

“Follow me,” he said.

Training began immediately.

He showed her how to read ECG strips, pointing out arrhythmias, explaining heart murmurs, guiding her hands as she listened to a patient’s chest with a stethoscope. His voice was calm, steady, dangerously close.

“Cardiology isn’t just about machines,” he said. “It’s about listening. The heart always tells the truth.”

Iris nodded, her breath uneven. Every time he leaned closer, her skin tingled. She focused hard, determined not to let attraction distract her.

Nathaniel noticed everything. How quickly she learned. How carefully she observed. How her hands trembled slightly before steadying themselves.

He smiled.

And the nurses noticed.

Whispers followed them down the hallway.

Have you ever seen Dr. Hale smile like that?

Not once.

When training ended, Nathaniel checked his watch.

“See me in my office before you leave,” he said.

Her heart skipped.

“Yes, sir.”

Later, Iris stood outside his office door, nerves buzzing. She knocked.

“Come in.”

She stepped inside.

Nathaniel looked up.

For a moment, time stopped.

The room felt too small. The air too heavy. They stared at each other, neither speaking, both aware that something had already begun.

And neither of them knew how dangerous it would become.