Chapter 1
The nurses in the emergency department were going crazy.
The hands of the untouchable Dr. Jayce Wilson, who was famously known for his precision with the scalpel, shook in the operating room today.
"Dr. Wilson, the patient presented for acute appendicitis, not a heart transplant. With the speed you’re suturing at, are you perhaps trying to practice embroidery?" An assisting doctor teased.
Jayce’s face was cold as he remained silent. His hands continued moving gently, as if he were treating a precious treasure.
No one in the room knew that the woman groaning in pain on the operating table was the lady who dumped Jayce seven years ago.
No one could guess that behind the cold mask Jayce had on, his inner monologue was enough to drown out the whole room.
[She lost a lot of weight. Has she been eating well? Dammit, who was that man? Why was he the one who accompanied her here?] Jayce thought.
[Reyna Jules, if you furrow your brows one more time, I’ll…I’ll beg you to stop hurting.] Another thought ran through Jayce's head.
Meanwhile, Reyna lay there with her eyes clamped shut, reeling in shock as she listened to the thoughts that were not hers to hear.
*****
The sharp smell of disinfectant hit me as I was wheeled down the hallway of Zenith Hospital, making my already churning stomach feel even worse.
I'm Reyna Jules, an intern with dreams of ruling the medical world through my dark wit. But right now, I was sprawled out on a gurney, with zero dignity left, being rushed to the operating room by a pack of nurses.
"Doctor, I think I can tough it out. I really don't need general anesthesia..." I weakly raised my hand, trying to salvage what little pride I had left.
"Dr. Jules, quit joking. Your appendix is about to explode. If we don't cut it out now, you'll be meeting the ghost of Florence Nightingale," Vivien Edwards, the head nurse, grumbled as she pushed the gurney, her sneakers squeaking loudly on the floor.
The automatic doors to the operating theatre slid open with a whoosh, and a blast of cold air hit me, just like the cold stare he used to give me.
And then, I saw him.
Jayce Wilson.
He was in a blue surgical gown, masked up. Only his eyes were showing. They were deep and bottomless, like an abyss.
Those eyes were locked on me, towering over me as he held my chart, looking less like a surgeon and more like he was about to interrogate me about why I broke up with him all those years ago.
"Name," he said, his voice colder than a block of Antarctic ice that's been frozen for three years.
"Reyna Jules. Dr. Wilson, long time no see. Still got that grim reaper vibe, huh?" I hissed through the pain, but couldn't resist taking a jab at him.
Jayce's fingers clenched the chart, his knuckles going pale.
"Acute appendicitis. Prep the anesthesia," he told the anesthesiologist, his voice clipped and harsh.
Just then, my mind buzzed.
Out of nowhere, a cheeky but bitter voice blasted through my head.
[Reyna, seriously? Seven years without a word, and our big reunion happens on an operating table? Your appendix must be a real piece of work, picking my shift to stir up trouble,] the voice said.
I froze.
Who was that?
Everyone was busy. The anesthesiologist was mixing meds, the nurses were prepping tools, and Jayce was checking his scalpel.
No one had said a word.
[What are you staring at? Serves you right to be in pain. You walked out on me so abruptly. You didn't even leave a text. And now you've ended up right in my hands. Just wait, I'll stitch you up like a damn ribbon,] the voice spoke again.
The voice was dripping with bitter, gritted-teeth frustration.
I stared hard at Jayce, practically burning holes through him.
His lips didn't move, and his face was still locked in that classic expression that looked like I owed him a million bucks. But I knew for sure that it was his voice.
Am I really hearing Jayce's inner thoughts?
"Jayce, were you just cursing me out in your head?" I gritted out.
Jayce's gaze sharpened, but his voice stayed cool and steady behind the mask. "Dr. Jules, the anesthesia hasn't even kicked in yet. Are you already hallucinating?"
[Shit, how did she figure out I was badmouthing her? Was I that obvious? No, get it together. You're supposed to be cold and unapproachable. You're her doctor now. Stay professional,] the voice sounded again.
I almost laughed out loud, but pain shot through my wound, making me twitch.
"Don't move," Jayce suddenly grabbed my shoulder. The heat of his palm seeped through the thin hospital gown, sending a jolt straight to my heart.
[Damn it, why is she still so fragile? Reyna, have you even been eating? She's bone-thin. Her bone is even digging into my hand. This hurts my hand and my heart.] Jayce's voice echoed in my head.
His hand trembled for just a split second, but I saw it, plain as day.
I looked into those eyes that practically said "back off," and suddenly, my inner schemer sprang to life.
"Dr. Wilson, what's with the shaky hands? Are you nervous seeing your ex? Can't even hold the scalpel steady?" I gave him a deliberately provocative look, a hint of amusement in my eyes.
Jayce scoffed and leaned in, his handsome face suddenly looming right in front of me.
"Reyna, if you really want your appendix to stick around a bit longer, I can totally make that happen," he said, his voice low and dangerous.