Cerita Pendek & Novel Doctor Romance

There is a medical dispute at the hospital. A patient's family member comes at us swinging a knife. Without hesitating, I push my husband, Maxwell Conner, out of the way. But then, he grabs my hand and pulls me in front of his beloved junior, Karina Burton. The knife plunges straight into my abdomen, killing the baby I had just conceived. As my horrified colleagues cry and rush me toward the ICU, Maxwell violently pulls me off the gurney. He barks, "Save Karina first! If anything happens to her, I'll fire every last one of you!" The doctors are stunned and furious. "Maxwell, have you lost your mind? Karina only suffered a minor injury. Your wife is the one in critical condition!" Clutching my bleeding abdomen, I nod slowly. "It's fine. Just forget it." Maxwell, I owe you nothing after this.

On the very first day of our marriage, Jasper Clarke, a renowned gynecologist, laid down his terms. "My time can mean life or death for my patients. You can't afford to waste it. I may not be able to be there for you day to day, but I'll set aside half a day every month just for you. That's the most I can offer." I understood how demanding his job was, so I nodded and agreed. From then on, I ate alone, went to doctor's appointments alone, and spent my days in an empty house. I never once disturbed Jasper. That changed in my third month of pregnancy, when I began showing signs of a threatened miscarriage. For the first time, I booked a specialist appointment with Jasper. The moment I pushed open the door to his office, his smile froze. "What are you doing here? Get out! Don't take up a spot another patient needs!" Before I could say a word, he called in the next patient. A young pregnant woman walked in behind me, carrying a bouquet of white jasmine. She sat down beside Jasper. As the door closed, I saw him stand up, his left hand resting at her waist and his right hand covering hers as he took the bouquet. I waited outside for four hours, but Jasper never called in another patient. A nurse came over to inform me. "Ms. Wells is Dr. Clarke's VIP patient. He saves every Wednesday for her. If you're not feeling well, I can help you make an appointment with another doctor." My phone lit up with a calendar reminder. The half-day I had been looking forward to all month would be over in five minutes. My hand stilled against my lower abdomen. Suddenly, I could not feel the pain anymore. After a long moment of silence, I spoke softly. "I'd like to schedule an abortion."

Five days after I saved my girlfriend from an unhinged, violent patient, the wound on my arm tore open and got infected again. I wanted her to drive me to the hospital, but she spared me a glance before refusing, citing the need to avoid her being seen treating family. Left with no choice, I took a cab to the hospital by myself. Dizzy and weak from a burning fever, I lost my footing and tumbled down the stairs, injuring my foot in the fall. At that exact moment, my supposedly busy girlfriend, Stella Sloan, was gently supporting her young male intern and passing right by me to cut in line for emergency treatment. A nearby nurse quickly tried to smooth things over for her. “Dr. Sloan takes great care of all the new hires. Don’t worry, she’ll come and get you as soon as she’s done.” A bitter smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. She had registered me as a patient thirty-three times, yet my own girlfriend had never once picked up my medical chart. “Forget it. Don’t bother.” I stared up at the blinding glare of the fluorescent lights above. My ticket home was booked for two days from now, and my resignation letter had been approved. Stella, you and I are officially over.

When my wife, Celeste Harrington, sent her seventh young lover to me for a penile augmentation, her friends made bets on how quickly I would lose my mind. But even after the light over the OR door went off, nobody heard me fall apart. "Celeste, that's the seventh guy now. What if your husband is actually angry enough to stop speaking to you?" one of her friends asked. Celeste shrugged. "He can't have children with me, and I've got a family empire to pass on. Sooner or later, I'm going to have a baby with another man. Why not keep a few men around now so he gets used to it? I get to enjoy myself, too." I stepped out of the OR, my expression unreadable, and delivered the usual announcement. "Congratulations. The operation was successful." Celeste approached with a smile. "Nice work." Then she handed me a divorce agreement. "Sign it, will you? It's just for show. This guy refuses to have a baby with me unless I divorce you. Once the baby's born, we'll raise it together. Nobody will dare call you less of a man when you're raising a child." I'd played along with this humiliating routine six times before. This time, I signed without hesitation. Then I turned around and said yes to someone else's proposal. Celeste had apparently forgotten one important detail: I wasn't infertile. The problem was the genetic risk of having a child with her. All I needed was a different partner. Why had she ever assumed I'd be generous enough to raise her lover's baby?

Five years ago, I gave up my research achievements for love. Then, out of the blue, Marcus Parker's childhood friend made her return to the country. Using the excuse of playing truth or dare, they did everything that couples did together. I reminded Marcus not to go too far, but he just gave me a helpless look. "Claire, if I really had something going on with Hannah, I wouldn't have married you." I watched as he chose to abandon saving my mother for Hannah Carter's sake. He even hung up on me when I got into a car accident. When I woke up again, I learned that my unborn child, who was not three months old, had died in my womb. I finally gave up all hope and handed him the divorce papers. "Marcus, let's get divorced." A month later, I boarded a plane bound for Andoria.

On my very first night working the overnight shift at the new hospital I've been transferred to, I run into my wife, Willow Jensen, who claimed she needed to be away on a year-long business trip. Now, she's lying on a gurney outside the delivery room, heavily pregnant, with blood pouring from beneath her. The man kneeling beside her grabs my hand tightly, his desperate pleas ringing in my ears. "Doctor, please! You have to save her!"

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.

Though Micheal loved me deeply, When he was deceived by Ruby's lies,He lost the ability to distinguish right from wrong. He believed that I had killed his grandfather for the inheritance and that I had slept with other men and was pregnant with that man's child.So he cruelly subjected me to humiliation again and again. When he personally pushed me into the abyss, all the love turned to ashes—never to return in this lifetime...

During a critical meeting, my medical case notes were swapped for "Confession of an Affair”. "Exhibit A: She knowingly intruded into a marriage, a disgrace to her profession." "Exhibit B: Harassing the patient's family and destroying their family." "Exhibit C: Callously endangering lives, deliberately plotting against the wife and child to take her place!" In front of hospital leadership, the patient’s family accused me of being a homewrecker, attempting to shame me into confessing. It was chaotic until she physically assaulted me, leaving me with a concussion. When my husband rushed in from the operating room, I said coldly, "Looks like this ‘real wife’ is being called the mistress! Why would you still defend me?” Without hesitation, my husband stepped forward and slapped the real mistress. “Security!” he called out. “Get this troublemaker out of here, now!”

“Camille, I’ll love you forever!” Jameson let out a low, agonized growl. Just as he was about to climax, his phone suddenly began to buzz. He ignored it, of course. Now was hardly the time. However, his phone lit up again. The moment he saw the text on the screen, his body froze. Camille heard him answer the call. “Hello?” In the deep silence of the night, the voice on the phone cut through the stillness, clear and unmistakable. “Jameson, did you know that Sylvia—” Jameson switched languages and cut in with a sharp command, “Keep it down. It's not a good time.” The other person switched languages too, though he was still loud. “The hospital results came in. Sylvia is in the final stages of cancer. She only has a month left! Her last wish is to become your wife. Can you grant her that before she passes?” Jameson’s expression changed immediately. “What?! Wait for me!” He ended the call and turned to Camille. “Camille, something urgent came up. I need to step out for a bit. Be good and stay home. I’ll be back after you’ve had some sleep.” Before she could respond, he rose to wash up, changed his clothes, and left without looking back. Moments later, her phone buzzed. Sylvia: [Camille, you lost. I told you—Jameson has always been mine.] Right above it was a message from three days ago: [If I tell him I have cancer, do you think Jameson will leave you and come to me? I bet he will.] Camille’s gaze slowly shifted from her phone screen to the open bedroom door. What Jameson did not know was that she had already picked up a new language. She understood every word of that call. After a long moment, a faint, bitter smile appeared on her face. “Yeah, I lost...”

My mom's dying wish was to see me marry Callum Sinclair. Callum, who lived and breathed surgery, finally agreed to put down the scalpel and come with me to get our marriage license. But just as our number was called over the speaker, my best friend, Helena, stopped him. "The cryo-transplant in Cardiology has gone wrong. The heart muscle is rejecting irreversibly after rewarming." Callum walked away from the window at once. I grabbed his arm. "It's our turn. Sign first, then go. It's three minutes." Callum yanked his hand free. "A life is on the line. I'm a doctor. Three minutes is enough to kill someone." "But my mom is dying too. She wants to see me get married." My tears soaked the front of my dress, and Helena rushed over to pry my fingers loose. "Rosalie, stop this! Your mom is terminal. Nothing can save her now, but other people still have a chance. "You can't let Callum be branded negligent just because of your pathetic selfishness!" But the hospital had just called. My mom's oxygen levels had crashed, and she wouldn't make it through the night. The two of them walked out of the hall, one after the other. I would never fit into their world. They'd both gone to medical school. They never ran out of surgical cases and ideals to talk about. They ate off the same plate and debated the same patient's treatment plan. And me? I could only cook their late-night meals at home and wash their white coats that reeked of disinfectant. They were on the same wavelength. I was always the outsider. A world of life, death, and ideals I could never squeeze into—suddenly, I didn't want to try anymore.

Camden Price's true love, Lynn Gardner, died on my surgery table. Unexpectedly, the malicious Camden chose to protect me from backlash and even proposed to me. He treated me extraordinarily well after we got married. Camden would take me to taste the hottest chili. We would sign up for the most death-defying activities like bungee jumping. When it was late at night, he would take me to the rowdiest and most dangerous bars to drink our hearts away. All this led to me contracting stomach cancer. During my late-stage cancer, I found the diary he left at home. Everything he did with me was what Lynn wanted to do with him. On the last page of his diary, he wrote hatefully, "She deserves to die." I did die. I died after Lynn was found alive. She had faked her death. I died on the day Lynn was marrying another man. You should be happy now, Camden.

I double over in pain after assisting Adrian Randall with a late-night operation. He immediately carries me to a ward to check on me. However, before he can do that, he receives a call from a patient and hurries off. That night, I miscarry. When I come out of the operating theater, I see his childhood friend's social media update. She's shared a photo of her baby bump. "He hurried to come to my side just because I was lost. You have to treat Adrian well in the future, my darling!" I rub my belly, which throbs with a dull ache. I don't cry and demand an explanation from Adrian as I would have in the past. Instead, I like the post and apply for a position on the Borderless Medical Assistance Program. The day I leave, the high and mighty Dr. Randall looks at me with red-rimmed eyes. He asks, "How can you bear to leave me behind?"

"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.

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.

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.

My wife, Charlene Everett, and I used to work in the same hospital. I was known for being a kind doctor as well as a passionate teacher, while she was known for being a smart, fiery, and protective professional. All was well for the both of us until Charlene started caring about a clumsy trainee doctor called Zachary Wordsworth. I underestimated their relationship until the day he made a grave medical error, and she threw me to the wolves to protect him from his own mistakes. Indeed, Zachary cut a patient's womb out of her body mistakenly. The patient committed suicide not long after finding out. To avoid him being disciplined by the hospital, Charlene had the nurse in charge modify the records to have me as the surgery’s lead doctor. The patient’s family thought I was the one at fault and sued me. Everyone cursed me for being an unqualified doctor. Netizens made a huge ruckus online and started pressuring the hospital director to fire me. Helpless and in pain, I confronted Charlene, but she casually said, “Zach can’t handle the responsibility of failing the surgery. You’re more experienced, so you’ll be able to weather this storm.” When I later stumbled upon Charlene tangled up with Zachary, I could only let out a bitter laugh. I thus decided it was time for me to stop being kind.

My husband secretly swapped the transplant recipient, giving the kidney that was meant for our daughter to the daughter of the woman he had always loved. Not long after, our daughter's condition worsened. The doctors tried to save her, but it was no use. She didn't make it. At the same time, the other girl's surgery was a success. My husband was so overjoyed that he handed out little gifts to the entire hospital in celebration. Rage and grief overwhelmed me, and I collapsed. When I came to, the doctors told me I had cancer. Late-stage. My time was running out. With nothing left to hold on to, I walked out of the hospital, clutching the urn that held my daughter's ashes. In the cold, empty house, I sat alone and drafted the divorce papers.

At three months pregnant, I was diagnosed with an ectopic pregnancy. My husband, a doctor, was overwhelmed with worry, pulling every string he could to arrange surgery and remove the baby. "As long as you're okay, it doesn’t matter if we don’t have our own child. We can always adopt. I can't lose you, Evelyn!" Heartbroken, I blamed myself for being useless, for failing to carry our child, and for disappointing my husband. But then, I accidentally saw his chat messages with another woman on the phone. "Don’t worry, I already told her she had an ectopic pregnancy." "I’ll have her sign the adoption papers soon, then find a way to bring you into our home." "Asher is my only son. I will make sure he inherits everything I have!" That was when I realized that the husband I loved so deeply had long since built another family behind my back.

Everyone in Logan Bradshaw's social circle knows he dotes on me endlessly. He turns down the marriage his family has arranged for him for my sake. His love for me remains unchanged for three years. However, things change during his bachelor party before our wedding. His true love asks, "Will you leave with me if I crash your wedding?" He says seriously, "I will." I hold back my tears and text my wealthy best friend. "Can you take me away from here in the shortest time possible?" She arrives seven minutes later. Her car's tires are practically on fire because of how fast she drove. "I told you you should've married a rich guy and enjoyed the good life! "You totally deserve it, with your looks and personality! My brother is as handsome as they come, and my father still has it going. Pick one!"