Stubborn Hearts

When I ran into my ex-husband again, he had just been appointed the new hospital director.

In the past, manipulated by my so-called best friend, he misunderstood my sincerity again and again. Because of that woman, he eventually walked out of our marriage.

As the vice director, I managed to keep things strictly professional around him, right up until the end of the workday.

That evening, the head nurse brought some news.

"Dr. Holloway, the Municipal Medical Association is hosting a networking banquet tonight. Leaders from all the major hospitals will be attending."

The nurses immediately began discussing whether they could go. Just as I was about to agree, he appeared in the doorway without warning.

"Dr. Holloway, you can't go. You're staying tonight to handle the hospital restructuring plan."

In full view of everyone, he summoned me into the director's office.

Seated behind his desk, he said with an icy gaze, "Everyone else can go. You must stay. If I find out you show up at that banquet tonight, be prepared to deal with the consequences."

The Fifth Anniversary

Scenes from the past flashed through my mind one after another, and a surge of anger flared in my chest.

"Jeremiah, why weren't you this forceful back then?"

I hurled the words at him and turned to leave.

The moment I stepped out, the nurses swarmed around me.

"Dr. Holloway, do you know the new hospital director?"

I shook my head.

"Hey, Dr. Holloway, Dr. Luthenstein is so young. I heard he graduated from Redmont Medical Academy, and he's still single."

As soon as those words were spoken, several gossip-hungry nurses piled in, talking over one another.

The noise grated on my nerves.

"That's enough. He's married. And divorced."

Ignoring their stunned expressions, I picked up my bag and got ready to clock out.

"How do you know that so clearly?" a young nurse asked, hurrying after me.

I sneered. Of course, I knew—because I was the ex-wife he had misunderstood.

I didn't answer. I walked straight toward the elevator.

I had warned myself countless times that I would never let the past hurt me again. Yet, when an old lover reappeared as my superior, my heart still stirred in spite of everything.

I had been married to Jeremiah Luthenstein for five years.

On our fifth wedding anniversary, I had carefully prepared a candlelit dinner, planning to celebrate with him.

Instead, he confessed his love to Yvonne Zimmerman—my closest friend—on the hospital rooftop.

Overnight, they became Verdale's perfect medical pair.

The sweet blessings, the heartfelt confession, the joyful laughter—none of it had anything to do with me. I could only clear away the dinner I had prepared and hide alone in the on-call room.

That morning, when Jeremiah left the house, he had promised we would celebrate properly.

So this was what he meant by celebrating.

As I stared at the footage of them in each other's arms, an unfamiliar bitterness clogged my throat.

I couldn't even remember the last