Doctor Regret Short Stories & Novels

When my ex-wife, Blaire Sutton, rushes her childhood friend, Malcolm Pierce, who has suffered from a papercut, into the emergency room, I'm in the middle of saving a patient, whose heart has stopped beating. Upon noticing that I'm not rushing to treat Malcolm's cut at once, Blaire lashes out at me furiously. After that, she lodges a complaint about me intending to get revenge on her due to our relationship problems, which means I have very poor ethics as a doctor. I don't even bother explaining myself to anyone. Instead, I just take off my white coat and accept the suspension and investigation notice that the hospital has issued to me. Soon, Blaire uploads a photo of Malcolm's finger, which is taped with a plaster. The caption absolutely reeks of her smugness. "Only narrow-minded men tend to get revenge for the pettiest things at work. His white coat should've gotten ripped off him a long time ago. That way, he'll definitely learn his lesson." Five days later, Malcolm suddenly suffers from a ruptured aortic dissection, leaving him in critical condition. The thing is, I'm the only one capable of performing this surgery in the entire state. Blaire keeps sobbing to the point that she's suffering from an emotional breakdown over the phone. She begs me to save Malcolm's life. I merely cut her off coolly, "Sorry, but I'm serving my suspension notice and reflecting on my mistakes at the moment. I don't even have the right to prescribe Malcolm any medication. You should find someone else to save his life."

I filed to leave Doctors Without Borders a year in advance, just so I could return home, keep my promise, and marry Dennis McMillan. But by the time I got back, Dennis was already a father. I overheard him telling the housekeeper, "Let Anna stay abroad a little longer. Best if she doesn't come back at all. If she finds out I have a son now, she'll definitely cause a scene." It was only then that I understood—he had deceived me. Three years ago, he said to me, "Go spend three years with Doctors Without Borders. Toughen yourself up. Once you are more mature, you'll be ready to be my wife." And I was mature now. I wasn't the same girl who used to break down in tears whenever something went wrong. My tastes had changed too. And now, I wasn't interested in someone like him anymore.

I'm in the middle of my pediatric shift when an emergency call comes in. A three-year-old boy arrives, hemorrhaging and unconscious from a car crash, but there is no matching blood type in the bank. Then, it hits me that my husband, Ethan Stone, has the same blood type, so I ask him to donate blood right away. When he arrives and stands frozen to the spot, I can no longer hold back my rage. "What are you waiting for? Saving his life is the priority here!" That's when the boy's mother sprints over and screams, "No! Close family can't donate! He's the boy's father!"

The first thing I did after being reborn was add penicillin, a drug the patient was severely allergic to, into his pre-surgery medication administration record. The hospital leadership exploded. “Have you lost your mind?” “Are you trying to kill the patient?” I smiled as I accepted the suspension notice they handed me. In my previous life, I had been the lead cardiac surgeon for this operation. Back then, I refused a request from my wife, Shannon Wright, whose childhood friend, Jonah Hill, wanted to use my patient as ‘practice’ during the surgery. Right there in, Shannon threw a tantrum and demanded a divorce. In the chaos, she ripped out the patient’s blood transfusion line and even knocked over the blood bags, causing the wealthy patient to die on the table. However, they pinned the entire medical malpractice scandal on me. With the security footage wiped clean, I was sentenced to death in the end. My parents sold everything they owned and gathered eight million dollars. They gave the money to Shannon, begging her to hire a lawyer and help overturn my case. Instead, she told them that she and Jonah had been having an affair. From the very beginning, I had only been their scapegoat. The shock shattered my parents. While driving home in a daze, they lost control of the car and plunged off an overpass bridge. Both of them died on the spot. Now, when I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the very day of that wealthy patient’s surgery.

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.

My mother has volunteered at our neighborhood church for over a decade. Christmas drives, Sunday service, any neighbor in trouble, she's the first one there. Everyone says God sent her to us. She thinks so too. She says God wants her to be generous, so she is. The thing is, when no one's watching, the generosity always comes out of my pocket. After she remarried, she doted on my half-sister Serena. Serena picked up a box of cold medicine for her, and Mom handed Serena the keys to my Tesla. Serena mentioned she needed to renew her car insurance, and Mom wired her the surgery fund I'd been saving for two years for my daughter Emma. That afternoon, Emma collapsed on the floor, lips turning blue, gasping for air. Her medicine was crushed into the carpet. Mom fished the last pill out of her pocket and dangled it in front of me. "Apologize to your sister, and I'll give Emma the pill." I got on my knees. But that same day, she gave away the cardiology appointment I'd spent three months getting. She gave it to Serena. What she didn't know was that the name on the appointment was her own.

A car accident left me with severe brain injuries. I was left hanging by a thread. My wife, a renowned medical genius, personally operated on me for 18 consecutive hours, pulling me back from death's grasp. Yet, the first words I said to her after waking up were, "Grace, I want a divorce." Her eyes were filled with tears. "Derek, I just saved your life, and now, you want to leave me? Is it because I've been too busy at the hospital? Because I haven't spent enough time with you?" I frowned. "It's exactly because you saved me that I want this divorce. I won't let you sacrifice your reputation for me." The family elders tried to reason with me. "Grace is such a wonderful wife. She takes care of everything and loves you deeply. Why insist on a divorce? Why throw away such happiness?" No matter who approached me, I dismissed them with the same response. "If you think she's so perfect, then she'll be available once we're divorced." The elders were furious. "Fine! Get your divorce! But don't come crying to us when you regret it!" I whispered under my breath, "The only thing I regret is not divorcing her sooner."

A week before the marking ceremony, my fiance, Alpha Mason Wallace, suddenly switches the venue to Firefly Grove. His friends tease him. "You changed the venue just because Serena wants to see fireflies? And you didn't even tell Cora? What if she shows up at an empty site? "Besides, Cora's the one who picked Moonlight Bay. Do you really think she'll go along with this?" Mason says casually, "She burned her skin saving me. She won't fight me over a venue change. Besides, she planned every detail herself. She'll notice the update." I stand outside the doorway, listening in silence. Then, I slip away without a word. When the day finally comes, Mason calls from Firefly Grove, panic in his voice. "The ceremony's about to start. Where are you?" I stare at the shimmer on Moonlight Bay and answer calmly, "I'm already here. My ceremony is about to start too."

In my last life, the Fosters acknowledged me as their real son. But my own sister framed me for causing their adopted son's relapse. My biological parents believed her and threw me out. Not long after, I died sick and alone on the street. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day the Fosters came to take me home. Gracie Foster stood in front of our parents, pointed at me, and said, "Mom, Dad, he's not my brother!" They looked at me in disappointment, then turned and left. I stood there without taking out the locket that could prove who I was, then quietly walked back into the orphanage. Twenty years later, I became one of the country's leading cardiologist. The woman sitting across from me handed over a medical file, her voice trembling. "Doctor, please. Save my brother." When I saw the name, I stopped. My gaze shifted to her worn, haggard face. I stared at her for a long time before finally saying, "I won't take this patient."

When I returned from a mission, I found my Alpha mate, Wyatt, had tattooed his Beta's sigil next to our sacred mating mark. I cut my mission short, stormed back to the pack, and publicly declared my intent to Reject him. The mating mark is sacred, a symbol of two souls eternally bound. Desecrating it is the gravest insult to the Moon Goddess. Wyatt tore the rejection papers to shreds, casting them to the ground. Fury blazed in his wolfish eyes. "Over a sigil? You're tearing us apart over a meaningless symbol. Are you insane?" "Do I look like I'm kidding?" I sneered. "Fine. Let the Moon Goddess be your judge." The color drained from his face. "Faye, if you dare go through with this, I'll strip Rory of his birthright. He'll never be Alpha." "How could I be cursed with a mother like you? You're ruining my future as Alpha! I hate you!"My son, Rory, snarled from the side, his eyes burning with hatred. I looked at this father and son, who was now both strangers to me, and my heart turned to ash. My fingers tightened on my herb pouch. "The moment your father desecrated our mark," I said, my voice eerily calm, "I was already done with you."

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.

I was operating on my husband, Don Cassius Vitelli, when I removed a bullet lodged less than an inch from his heart. He'd refused general anesthesia just so he could stay on the phone with his childhood sweetheart, Mia Russo. He'd insisted on local anesthesia instead. "Stitch faster," he ordered, gripping his phone and fighting not to tremble. Watching him wince in pain, I fought to keep my nerves in check as I pulled out a document and slid it in front of him. "It's a consent form for your post-op medication. Standard procedure." I looked at him. "Sign it, and I'll take care of the rest." Cassius didn't hesitate for a second. Cassius had fought his way to the top and he trusted no one. He normally double-checked everything, down to the supply lists. But he was so focused on Mia's soft breathing over the phone that he signed the document without even looking at it. He had no idea he'd just signed divorce papers. I'd followed him for seven years. For three of them, I'd been his secret wife, the woman he could never show to the world. In 15 days, I would finally be free.

On Mother's Day, my mother-in-law passed away suddenly in the hospital. And my wife—a top-tier, elite surgeon—personally signed the organ donor consent form and led the team that removed her heart. I rushed to the hospital like a madman to confront her, only to find her calmly pulling off her gloves. "Mike's mother has been waiting for this heart for three years. He saved my life once. This is the only way I can repay him. "Mike has no one left but his mother. Can't you be a little more understanding? I'll bring him to lay flowers for your mother. Let's just put this behind us." I stared at the body on the table, face covered, then at the still-damp blood staining her white coat—and I almost laughed out loud from sheer disbelief. She still had no idea… that heart belonged to her own mother.

My girlfriend, Jade Swanson, was very respectful toward her teachers. Every time we went out on a date, she even invited my single male teacher, Oliver Graham, along. Three for dinner. Three at the movies. Even when we traveled, it was three people sharing a room. I got jealous and lost my temper, but she only said, "Oliver is your mentor. Making him happy is equivalent to helping you build a good relationship. You're not very capable. Since we were little, haven't I always helped you smooth things out? You're a man, so don't be so petty!" On Valentine's Day, I finally passed my housemanship. Jade hired an outdoor band half a month in advance to celebrate for me. She said, "From now on, the three of us will no longer go out together. It's just going to be two." I waited for a full six hours until early morning, soaked under the rainstorm, yet the venue remained empty. Shivering, I made my way back to the hospital break room, where a warm, cozy light spilled from inside. Jade was carefully drying Oliver’s wet hair, her tone tinged with playful reproach. "You insisted on going out even though it was raining. What if you caught a cold?" Oliver smiled with a gentlemanly charm. "I was just going to get some candles. Jade, thank you for spending my birthday with me." Subconsciously, I opened my chat with Jade again. There were still no new messages from her. I gave a self-deprecating smile. It turned out they were "the two" she mentioned: she and Oliver. Fine then. In that case, I would stop being the invisible third wheel in their story.

My husband is my supervisor. Before the Day of the Dead comes, I submit an application for leave so I can pay my respects to my late mother. However, he refuses to approve my application. He insists on having me care for his childhood sweetheart, who got into an accident. He even berates me and tells me it's my duty to care for the patients. I can't second-guess them out of jealousy. But I saw him kissing his childhood sweetheart passionately in the hospital ward. He even slipped his hand underneath her clothes at the peak of his passion. "Let me check whether your wounds are better. Do you need more treatment?" She leans closer saucily, and he spanks her. "Do you think you'd be getting this treatment if not for Kaia being pregnant?" I look down at my baby bump as my heart shatters. No wonder he insisted on having me work despite me falling pregnant. How can he possibly love me? If that's the case, I'll give them my blessings.

The ambulance that's carting a pregnant woman is currently racing down the highway. The pregnant woman's water has already broken, which means she's in a dire situation right now. As I clutch the steering wheel tightly, I make sure to press the gas pedal all the way to the maximum. But the hospital director, Corey Johnston, who has tagged along for the ride, suddenly issues an order. "Pull up at the rest stop ahead." I'm momentarily stunned by the order. But I soon protest anxiously, "The patient can't afford to wait at all! She and her baby might die anytime soon!" Corey merely waves a hand impatiently. "Who's the one calling the shots here—me or you? I've been dabbling in the medical world for 30 years! As if a driver like you know better than me!" Thinking that Corey needs to go to the bathroom urgently, I soon park at the rest stop. But I witness him strolling into a supermarket leisurely, only to come out with two huge bags of snacks a long time later. "I bought my daughter the local specialities. She loves snacks like these the most." As Corey speaks, he tosses the snacks and his phone onto the front passenger seat. His phone screen flickers to life due to an accidental contact, which reveals the wallpaper of the lock screen. It's a photo of Corey and his daughter. I frown at the sight as my breath hitches in my throat. Why do I have a feeling that Corey's daughter looks quite similar to the pregnant woman in the ambulance right now?

To save my wife, my lungs were pierced by a knife, leaving lasting consequences. When I fell ill and struggled to breathe, she said I was dramatic and went on a business trip with her childhood friend. When she returned, I found a man's underwear in her suitcase that did not belong to me. I calmly made the call: "Director, I've made up my mind. I'm going to assist in Avrika." Later, at the airport, she bent down, publicly lowering her head and begging for my forgiveness.

My mother's condition suddenly takes a turn for the worse. She begins coughing up blood, and the doctor says she must undergo surgery as soon as possible. I call my girlfriend, Daniella Dooley, who is working in another state. She is the leading gynecologist in the field and the only doctor with any hope of saving my mother. The moment she receives my call, she sets out without hesitation. But halfway through the journey, she tells me that an emergency surgery has cropped up and that she can't make it back. I crouch in the hospital corridor in despair, calling her again and again. All I can do is watch as my mother's heartbeat on the monitor grows weaker and weaker. On the 99th call, she finally answers. My voice is almost pleading as I say, "Daniella, my mother's condition is really critical right now. You're the only one who can perform this surgery. I'm begging you, please come back!" For a long time, she says nothing. I wait and wait, only for her to hang up without uttering a single word. Then, I see a post from her junior, Jackson Bleeth. It shows a sunny-side-up egg that she has just made for him with her precious hands. Accompanying it is a caption that feels almost provocative. "I had a little accident during surgery today. Not only did Daniella not blame me, but she even encouraged me." So the "emergency surgery" she mentioned is actually cleaning up Jackson's mess. At the moment when I am at my most desperate, she abandons me and chooses to go to another man.

To marry Lorenzo Vincenzo, I gave up my photography career. A dream I had held for ten years. But on our fourth anniversary, I asked my sister Greer to draft the divorce papers. She kept asking, over and over. "Why would you leave Lorenzo? He's the top surgeon at St. Vincent's. Rich, gorgeous. Half the city is dying for a shot at him." I swallowed the bitterness clawing up my throat. "Because of a gift." Greer followed my gaze to the music box on the table. The card was in Elara's handwriting. Lorenzo's junior from med school. [Thank you for flying out to do my aunt's surgery, senior. I know it was a long trip. You worked so hard. The little dancers on this music box remind me of us at graduation prom. Hope you like it, Lorenzo.] That day, my father was in a car accident. I rushed him to St. Vincent's. Only Lorenzo could do the surgery. I searched every floor of that hospital, every corridor. Nowhere. I told myself he must be on a business trip. But no. He had left his post for Elara. The same man who once swore he would never abandon the OR for personal matters. Finally, my father died on the table. Greer pulled me into her arms. "The Vincenzo family owns this city. Their reach is everywhere. Where could you possibly go that he would not find you?" I glanced at the flight confirmation on my phone. "Three days. I am flying to Paris, to a photography studio there. And I will make sure he never, ever finds me."

"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.