ER Doctor Ex-Husband Cracks After 3 Years

Synopsis

"Registration. Emergency Pediatrics," I said. I handed over my health insurance card, holding Alex close. He was burning with fever, his whole body trembling in my arms. It was two in the morning at Central City Hospital, and the emergency room was bathed in harsh, white light. There were three people ahead of us. Alex's forehead pressed against my neck, so hot it felt like fire. "Mommy, I feel bad," Alex whimpered. "It'll be over soon, Alex. Just hang in there," I said, holding him tighter. I checked my phone—103.6°F. Way too high. Finally, it was our turn. I carried Alex into the exam room. The doctor was facing away, washing his hands. He was wearing a white coat, broad-shouldered, with his sleeves rolled up to his forearms. He turned around. I froze in place. Lucas. I could never forget the way he walked out of the registry office three years ago after signing our divorce papers—never once looking back. Now, he stood before me, his name tag on his chest: Lucas Nolan Deputy Director of Emergency Surgery.