Plot Twists Short Stories & Doctor Marriage Novels

Ten days after giving birth, I told my husband, Ethan Reed, that something was wrong with me. He turned his phone face-down on the coffee table and looked at me for a full three seconds. "Sophia, you just had a baby. It's normal to feel tired." Then he flipped the phone back over and went on texting his office nurse, Serena Blake. That was the last time I brought it up. Everything that happened after that, I assumed was my own fault. That changed when I reached into his coat pocket and felt a collar I'd never seen before. Real leather, brand new, with a round metal tag hanging from it. It wasn't my size.

When a wave of labor pain brought me to my knees in the hospital hallway, Orson Caldwell, a brilliant doctor, was just about to wheel me into the delivery room. Just then, his phone rang. When he answered the call, his expression fell. "Seraphina, Cressie's teddy is having trouble giving birth. It's in critical condition, but the vet clinic in her town is closed. I have to perform a C-section on it." I clutched my stomach as blood slowly began to seep between my legs. "I'm fully dilated. If you leave now, what am I supposed to do?" Orson looked annoyed. "We'll get another doctor to do it. You're only giving birth, but Cressie's dog could die. I'll make it up to you and our child someday." With that, he rushed into the elevator without even taking off his white coat. I laughed through my tears, pulled out my phone, and called my father. "Dad, I'll agree to the arranged marriage."

My younger brother and I depend on each other for survival. We are the renowned Bone-Suturing Masters of the frontier. I suture the bones of the dead, and he heals the lives of the living. Later on, he rescues the sixth princess, Susan Roth, amid the chaos of war. He helps her ascend to the throne as Queen, while he becomes the Prince Regent, wielding power over the entire court. Susan loves him deeply, so much so that she disregards her own health and risks her life to bear him a son. She even officially names him the Crown Prince. When the fighting at the frontier temporarily settles down, I return to the capital to attend the Crown Prince's coronation ceremony. I feel reassured when I see my younger brother standing at the height of power, his features calm and composed. I don't stay long and leave immediately for the borders after the coronation. On the journey back, I see a gnawed-on corpse at the bottom of a cliff I'm passing by. Instinctively, I take out my bone-suturing needles and hemp thread. Then I slowly gather the scattered bones and stitch the body back together. After finishing the last stitch, I gently turn the face over. The face is exactly the same as my younger brother's. The blood in my body freezes, as if I have fallen into an icy river. If he's the corpse at the bottom of the cliff… then who exactly is the person seated on the throne, commanding the kingdom?

Tony finally realized I had stopped telling him everything. When the company assigned me to a business trip, I signed the papers immediately without consulting him. When my best friend invited couples to her wedding, I attended alone and gave her a nice wedding gift. Even when I fell ill and needed surgery, I booked the appointment without his consent. As a doctor, Tony frowned when he found out about the surgery. "Why didn't you tell me you were sick? Give me your medical records, I'll arrange everything for you." Without a second thought, I replied, "No need. I can handle it myself, I don't want to trouble you. Thank you." The moment the words left my mouth, both of us froze. Less than a month ago... I was completely dependent on him. Back then, I couldn't even choose an outfit for a date or decide what to eat for lunch without texting him first.

Everyone told me how lucky I was. I was nothing special, yet somehow, I'd married Julian Ashford, the campus heartthrob who went on to become a once-in-a-generation surgical talent. My best friend, Nora Hayes, had always been the prettiest girl in school. Julian and I had been married for seven years, and everyone thought he adored me. At our wedding, he had even announced in front of all our guests that he would grant Nora one wish. It bothered me a little, but Julian simply cupped my face and looked at me with such sincerity that all my doubts disappeared. "Lena, I love you so much that everyone you care about matters to me too. Besides, Nora's a single mom raising a kid on her own. It's not easy for her." I cried that day, convinced I'd married the best man in the world. Seven years later, at 28 weeks pregnant, I was on my way to another prenatal appointment when I finally saw the truth for myself. "You're such a good boy, Charlie. You know, you were the wish Mommy asked Daddy for. Even when your little sister arrives, Mommy and Daddy will still love you just as much." Julian ruffled Charlie's hair affectionately, his other arm wrapped protectively around Nora. My fingers tightened around my phone until they hurt. I felt as if all the blood in my body had suddenly turned cold. On the screen was a message Julian had sent me only ten minutes earlier. "Hey babe, got called into emergency surgery. I'll definitely come with you next time." Next time. It was always next time. I was already seven months pregnant, and he hadn't attended a single appointment with me, even though his department was only one wing away. I stared at the three of them, looking every bit like a perfect little family. Julian, there won't be a next time.

A week before the wedding, I took my dad to the hospital where my fiancé worked for an upper endoscopy under sedation. Dad had gotten up extra early to shave and put on a gleaming white shirt and a new pair of shoes. Clutching his numbered ticket, he asked me quietly, "If Yale's busy, we don't need to see him. We shouldn't hold him up." I patted his arm. "Don't worry. I made an appointment. It wouldn't be holding him up." He'd been up since five without anything to eat. By eleven, his legs were trembling from standing. I texted Yale Xavier. [Dad can barely stand anymore. How many people are ahead of us?] It took him a long time to reply. [Wait your turn like everyone else.] Another hour passed. Just as our turn finally came, they called in the mother and daughter who'd been sitting the whole time. Through the gap in the door, I heard the girl ask, "Yale, who are those people outside? Are you sure it's okay to give me their spot?" "Sure. I happen to know them a little. They're father and daughter. They won't mind." I looked down at the ticket in my palm, soaked with my dad's sweat. Dad had paid his tuition for medical school and his doctorate, and in five days, I was supposed to marry him. Now we were just people he happened to know. I rolled up the ticket and tucked it into my pocket, then helped Dad to the nearest place serving breakfast. As soon as we sat down, I sent a message to our family and friends. [The wedding is off.]

My wife has a severe sex addiction. But in the seven years we've been married, she never lets me touch her. To suppress her urges, she spends all day submerged in ice-cold water, and her arms are covered in needle marks. Several times, I try to initiate intimacy out of concern for her, but her reaction is terrifying. She even threatens to kill herself. "I told you, I only want a Platonic relationship in this lifetime. Can you stop being so selfish? If you insist on making me do that, I'd rather die!" she exclaims. She maintains this unusual obsession for seven years. Even after ending up in the hospital multiple times from suppressing her desires, she refuses to cross that line. Then, on our wedding anniversary, a man comes in for a pre-check of his phalloplasty enlargement for the ninth time. After the anesthesia takes effect, he begins rambling incoherently. "Honey, I love you so much." Looking at the surgical scars, I shake my head, thinking this guy is really willing to go to extreme lengths for his wife. Then, I hear his final murmur. "Tasha, aren't I so much better compared to your useless husband?" My hand jerks, and I nearly drop the scalpel. It is because my wife's name is Tasha Snyder.

My husband, Mason Crawford, is a renowned obstetrician-gynecologist with more thank-you greeting cards from patients than I can count. But when I start bleeding during my first trimester and rush to the hospital to see him, he kicks me out. "Family doesn't get special treatment. Hospital rules. You have to register and wait in line like everyone else." I take his words to heart. I never bother him, not once, for any of my prenatal checkups. That is, until his first love, Vivian Werner, who married and moved abroad, comes back pregnant. That's when everything changes. When Vivian comes in for her prenatal checkups, he personally pulls strings to arrange a VIP room for her. And the checklist of tests he draws up for her is even more detailed than the one he gave me. Vivian says she's scared something might happen to her baby, so he brings in the best medical team to watch over her 24/7. I find this unfair, so I complain to him about it a lot. But Mason simply wipes away my tears gently. "She's divorced and pregnant. She's already got it hard enough. Do you really have to be jealous over this, too?" Since I can't think of a comeback, I have no choice but to bite my tongue and bottle up my feelings. Then, on my way to get a fetal heart-rate monitoring test, I get into a car accident. I call him countless times, but he never comes to sign the consent forms. The surgery ends, and I hold our stillborn baby in my arms. I want him to come see our daughter one last time, but he still doesn't pick up. It isn't until the sun goes down that his buddy calls me with the "good news". "Leah, Vivian's given birth. It's a boy. I've never seen Mason's hands shake like that before. You should go get a gift and bring it here as soon as possible. Mason says he wants to become the baby's godfather." So this is why he hasn't picked up. He's busy delivering his ex-girlfriend's baby.

During the holidays, Ellie Harper, my wife who's a hospital director, tells me once again that she has taken on a few operations at the last minute, so she can't go home with me to spend time with my parents. But soon, I see her assistant, Jaiden Roth's social media feed. Apparently, Ellie is slaughtering pigs at Jaiden's village in preparation for a holiday party. The caption writes, "Dad says having a daughter-in-law who works as a doctor is amazing. To think that she's this skilled in slaughtering pigs as well!" With a cold smirk curling on my lips, I leave a like on the post. I also comment, "That's her major, after all." My colleagues keep gossiping among themselves in various group chats. They all think I'll definitely get into a huge fight with Ellie this time. Ellie wastes no time in calling me. I can already imagine the impatient look on her face and the way her brows are drawn into a tight frown. "Jaiden's village is hosting a huge party for the holidays, so I'm there to lend them a helping hand! What's with that passive-aggressive tone of yours, huh? "There isn't anyone who can help out in his household, you know! Do you know how badly it'll reflect on his family if no one from his side helps out at all? I was just helping him out as a friend! What's there to kick up a fuss over? "Hurry up and remove the like and the damn comment! Don't make life difficult for Jaiden at the hospital, you hear me? "Once I get back from the village, I'll pick a good date to go back to your hometown with you, okay?" Another empty promise from Ellie, it seems. All she does is making empty promises that she can never keep nowadays. I'm completely stuffed with those promises, and I can't afford to wait for her anymore. Once the holidays are over, I'll receive the divorce certificate marking the end of our seven-year marriage once and for all.

On our wedding night, my husband hurt me, and I bled quite a lot. After that, he was left traumatized, and he gave me the cold shoulder for six whole months. I was understanding. I brought in the best therapist I could find, hoping we could find our way back to each other. Then one day, while I was making rounds as a doctor, I heard him with my own ears, speaking to a physician inside an exam room: "Doctor, my first love is coming back tonight. "I heard your hospital does cosmetic procedures for men... down there. Please use your very best technique. I want her to experience the perfect first time!" Outside the door, in my white coat, I clenched my fist until my knuckles turned white.

"Your marriage is a $50 souvenir, Ms. Vance. And your husband's already married to someone else." In a single moment at the immigration office, my life as the wife of NHL superstar Liam Sterling evaporated. Our secret Vegas wedding was a fraud, and Liam was already legally married to his "manager," Sophia. But the cruelty didn't end there. Liam expected me to adopt a "war hero's orphan", a child that was actually his and Sophia's secret son. He didn't want a wife. He wanted a world-class doctor to fix his career and a free nanny to raise his real wife's child. Liam made one fatal mistake: he forgot that I'm the only one who can keep him on the ice. I signed a record-breaking contract with the Titans, his bitterest rivals. Now, while Liam's knee shatters during the playoffs, I'm on the enemy's bench, healing the only man who can destroy him. He want a nanny? I'm sure he'll get his worst nightmare.