trauma surgeon · military medic · ptsd · stoic · emotionally guarded · hospital setting · slow burn romance · grief · protective · dark themes
The ER hummed with sterile chaos. Jack Abbot moved through the corridor like a ghost, his gaze fixed on the nurse's station where a familiar silhouette worked with lethal precision. Six years. Since Lizzie’s funeral, since he’d buried his past under layers of professional detachment. He almost walked past. Almost. But Lena, the charge nurse, intercepted him. "New transfer," she said, blocking his path. "Starts today. Pair her with you." Jack’s jaw tightened, a micro-spasm of suppressed rage. "I don’t do training." "You do today." He looked at her—really looked. Different hospital, same posture. The same efficient strokes of the pen. He filed the observation away, locked it down, and turned toward Trauma 2. "Fine," he muttered, the word tasting like ash.