Reviving Her Heart: (Rescue Me Book 1)

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Reviving Her Heart: (Rescue Me Book 1) Page 1

by Remi Grey




  Reviving Her Heart

  REMI GREY

  Copyright © 2019 Remi Grey – All Rights Reserved

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  Cover Created By Embrace the Pace Designs

  The following story contains mature themes, strong language, and sexual situations. It is intended for mature readers.

  Contents

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  EPILOGUE

  PREVIEW: BOOK TWO

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  MORE BOOKS

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

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  About the Book

  A Sweet and Steamy Insta-Love Medical Romance

  Davis:

  I’ve had my fair share of heartbreak and trauma.

  Being a heart surgeon isn’t for; no pun intended “The faint of heart."

  Most days, I feel like I'm walking in circles.

  That is until I saw her, and everything disappeared.

  A raven-haired beauty was standing before me, ready to put her life in my hands.

  I'm her only hope, her last chance at a healthy life.

  Maybe she’s my only chance as well.

  Could she be the one to save me from myself when I’m usually the one that does the saving?

  Christine:

  Cooking has always been the only thing that has kept me from thinking about the fact that I’m living on borrowed time.

  That is, until I was given a chance to change my fate.

  Dr. Anderson Davis is his name, the miracle worker with two last names and dimples that he could stop a woman in her tracks.

  I didn't expect to fall so hard, especially with my heart being broken in more ways than one.

  Two people, two totally different worlds, it would never work.

  I have a life to get back to, but do I really want it?

  My heart is literally in his hands.

  Can he really save me?

  I guess the real question is, what am I going to do if he does?

  Reviving Her Heart is a standalone steamy alpha romance. No Cliffhangers. It's the perfect read when you're on the go or just need a bit of heat to satisfy your romantic appetite. If you love a broken man, broken woman, heart to the contemporary rescue romance, this is the amazon kindle read for you.

  Chapter 1

  Davis

  I don’t think I can stand another night like last night again. It’s been months since I lost Mr. Salenger, and I still can’t seem to get over it. This continuous pattern of waking up in a total panic, not knowing where I am, lost, and covered with sweat. I’m soaked to the bone.

  I feel like I’m drowning, and I’m losing control of myself, which doesn’t sit well with me in the least. It wasn’t my fault what happened. I’d tried everything within my power to bring Mr. Salenger back. I’d held his heart in my hands as it struggled to beat, working to revive it for as long as I could before we had to call it.

  I’d stood there over his lifeless body, willing it to live, begging in silence for him to fight. This couldn’t be happening; I'd thought to myself. What was I going to tell his family? I'd be sure everything would've been a success. I’d done this procedure several times before, it had become almost routine, and I knew it like the back of my hand. Why then, why him?

  I will never forget the look in his wife’s eyes, his children’s eyes. Their sheer disbelief shook me to the core. “You promised us,” his wife said with tears streaming from her bloodshot eyes. “You said he would be fine, liar,” she screamed as she comforted her children. I’ll never forget her words. I was a liar to her; I took away her beloved partner, father to her children. I just couldn’t save him.

  Later, when I attended his funeral, she apologized to me, reassuring me that I wasn’t at all to blame and that she was just grief-stricken at the time, but her words stuck with me. I still continue to wear them like a scarlet letter everywhere I go. I carry those words with me into every surgery determined not ever to make the same mistakes again.

  Losing another patient isn’t an option, not now, not ever again. So, every day that I’m able to practice medicine is another day closer to making sure I keep that promise to myself and to my patients. But I just can’t bring myself to do it. If anyone knew that I was falling apart at the seams, I would lose all credibility in the eyes of my fellow colleagues.

  How would it look, me Dr. Anderson walking into therapy for night tremors over a death that happened months ago? I definitely can’t let my guard down; I’m the one that rescues others, not the one who needs to be saved.

  ~~~

  “Good morning Dr. Anderson,” one of the nurses greeted.

  “Good morning,” I say, continuing on my way down the long corridor towards the nurse's station. “Dr. Anderson, may I have a word?” an all too familiar voice called to me from behind. It was the chief physician; this can’t be a good sign, him wanting to have a chat with me.

  “Isn’t it a fine morning Dr. Taylor,” I turn around, responding sarcastically, wishing that I could avoid talking to him altogether. Dr. Taylor wasn't someone that you had a conversation with on purpose.

  “Don’t think I don’t know what you're doing, young man,” he says in his telltale authority figure tone. “My office, please.” Yup, definitely not a good sign. A short walk and zero conversation later, we arrive at his office, and I prepare to take whatever it is that he’s planning to say to me.

  “Have a seat Davis.” I reluctantly do as he says, growing more and more nervous.

  “I’m not going to beat around the bush Davis, but I’m worried about you.”

  Just what I need, another person telling me they’re worried about me, join the club.

  “No need to worry about me, I’m doing just fine.”

  “You can keep thinking you’re fooling everybody, but you’re not,” he said with a concerned look dancing across his face. “I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about, and if you’ll excuse me, Dr. Taylor, I have a valve replacement to prepare for.”

  “It wasn’t your fault Davis, I hope you know that,” he called out to me as I started towards the door. “If you don’t let it go it will eat you up alive, I’ve seen it before.”

  Deep down, I knew that he was right, I’ve seen it before myself, and I’ve heard rumors of good doctors falling apart over not being able to cope with losing a patient.

  “I appreciate your concern Dr. Taylor, but really, I’m fine,” I smile, not even believing my own lie. “I just need some rest, that’s all.”

  “I understand, just know that you’re not alone.”

  “Sure, I’ll see you around, and Dr. Taylor, thank you.” I almost broke the door down, trying to get out of there. I couldn’t take it anymore I had to avoid all that I was feeling from that extremely uncomfortable impromptu meeting.

  I headed straight to the bathroom, feeling like I was about to lose it at any moment. I checked each of the s
talls once I made it inside, making they were empty before I allowed myself to let go. I could feel the tears burning my eyes as they trickled down my face, landing somewhere onto the collar of my button-down.

  I was crying, something I haven’t done since I was a child, something I haven’t done since Laura died, something that I never do in public. I just couldn’t hold it anymore, I knew it was the combination of all the sleepless nights and Dr. Taylor’s confrontation, but it felt like so much more.

  I covered my face with cold water from the sink, making an honest attempt to clean myself up, but it was useless. Fuck, why did he have to bring this up here of all places? I have a surgery to prep for in an hour, and I haven’t gone to see my patient yet. I’m so not in the right headspace for this now.

  Get yourself together Davis, you have to maintain your composure, remember you’re the one that does the saving, not the one who needs to be saved.

  I grabbed one of the last remaining paper towels from the dispenser. I wiped my hands and my face with a last attempt to pull myself together before barreling straight down the hall towards my patient’s room. I prayed that no one would stop me.

  ~~~

  “You did a fantastic job, Dr. Anderson, thank you so much for taking such good care of my daughter.”

  “Not at all, Mrs. Grant, the pleasure was all mine, she did great, and she’s recovering just fine,” I reassured my patient's mother. “I know that you think you’re just doing your job, but for a parent of a child whose life you just saved, I’m thankful.”

  “It is my job Mrs. Grant, one that I enjoy, especially when I get to help such a loving family.”

  “Really, Dr. Anderson, my family, and I can’t thank you enough.”

  “Hanna did all the work, Mrs. Grant. I was just along for the ride,” I smiled, rubbing her shoulder, leaving them behind to recuperate in private.

  Feeling pretty good about myself again, I checked my schedule to make sure I had the rest of the day clear, and I did. Yes, I need to go pick up pick Fiona from the groomers anyway. Right now, she’s my only saving grace from the nightmares. When she’s not with me, I fall apart, it’s like Emma is still here watching over me when Fiona’s around. I know I’ll be getting a phone call from Emma’s mother any day now, with it being so close to the anniversary of her passing. I’m sure that’s not helping things either.

  “A penny for your thoughts.”

  Another familiar voice, Dr. Garner...

  “The way my mind is running right now, Dr. Garner, you would be able to retire a rich woman,” I respond, turning to greet her with a friendly handshake. Dr. Garner is a fantastic Psychologist; she’s helped so many of us through the rough times, including myself, when Emma died three years ago. It was a dark time for me, and Dr. Garner was right there with me talking me off the ledge.

  “Hello, Dr. Garner, how are you?”

  “The real question is, how are you Davis,” she probes, giving me this look of concern.

  “What do you mean, I’m perfectly okay.”

  “Davis.”

  “Cathleen?”

  “Okay, I won’t pressure you,” she conceded unwillingly. “My office door is always open, as you know.”

  “Of course,” I say, nodding in her direction.

  “Are you going to visit Emma this week?”

  “You remembered her anniversary?” I didn’t expect her to remember with as much as she has to deal with daily.

  “We all miss her, she was a dear friend to everyone here, Davis how could I forget.”

  “Sorry, that was very insensitive of me, sometimes I forget how much the two of you bonded.”

  “She was like a daughter to me; I really do miss her.”

  “So, do I, more than you know.”

  More than anyone knows other than her dog Fiona.

  “I know that you do,” she smiles, melting my heart instantly. Dr. Garner has a way of doing that to me; I took to her immediately when I started sessions with her after I lost Emma. She was the only one who made me healthily face my feelings of grief. She saved me from me.

  “Have you started dating again?”

  “What, me?” I can’t even look her straight in the eyes after that statement.

  “Yes, you,” she teases, reaching up to pinch one of my cheeks. “I may be an older woman, but I’m not blind Davis, I can see how the women around here respond to you.”

  “I think I hear someone calling me Dr. Garner,” I say, trying to avoid this line of questioning altogether. I know exactly where this is going, and it’s not the first time someone has inquired about my love life or lack thereof.

  “I get it, I can take a hint,” she chuckled. “I’ll check in with you another day since you seem busy.” I knew she was being sarcastic, it was cute and motherly, something that I needed right now, a little sarcasm to break up the tension from the day. I bid Dr. Garner farewell and moved my way through the silent halls making my rounds.

  I had several recovering patients from the week prior. Fortunately, they're all doing wonderfully and screaming my praises from the mountaintops. Great for the hospital’s reputation and my ego. The perfect cocktail.

  “Dr. Anderson, I’m glad I caught you we need to have a chat.” Dr. Taylor, twice in one day, so much for my quiet evening with Fiona, I’d better call the groomers.

  Chapter 2

  Christine

  It’d been over a decade since I moved from Italy, and I still can’t get used to the difference in the seasons and apparently my heart can’t either, according to my doctors. I can feel it getting weaker by the minute, and I can’t continue to hide the truth from everyone around me.

  Hopefully, this would be my final surgery, making it a grand total of four in all. The permanent scar in between my breast is a constant reminder of all I’ve been through to get to this point in my life.

  I only wish my grandmother would have lived long enough to see what I’ve become. I’m a worldwide celebrated and admired chef. I took everything I learned in my grandmother’s kitchen using it to build success, she would be so proud.

  I remember her owning every kitchen she stepped foot into. She had a presence about her that I was blessed enough to inherit. It’s certainly come in handy in my line of work. The more audacious I became, the less they start to focus on how many meetings that I’ve called out sick from. Or how many pre-rehearsal tapings for the new cooking show I’ve missed due to my mysterious fatigue.

  I couldn’t keep pretending that I have all the time in the world; I’m going to have to take care of this before I start this new part of my life. New parts that I don’t even really know if I want.

  “What’s on your mind, sweetie?” my dad said, smiling, bringing me my suitcase.

  “I was just thinking about Grandma.”

  “She would have been so proud of you, honey,” he said, giving me a quick hug.

  “I know she would, I really do miss her, especially at times like this.”

  “You can do it, Hun, she’s with you in spirit.”

  “This is the first major surgery I’ve had to have without her.” I felt my heart begin to skip a beat as I held my father’s hand in mine, squeezing it just a little to ease the pain. “Are you alright?”

  “I’m fine; let’s get me packed so that I can meet this amazing surgeon everyone keeps raving about,” I said, praying that all the hype was indeed real. “Dr. Anderson is one of the top Cardiovascular Surgeons in the country, he’s also young and has a fresh eye.”

  “I don’t see what’s so different about this one, they’ve all been great surgeons and great doctors, but none have been good enough to fix me completely.”

  “Honey, we’ve known since they discovered your condition that this wasn’t going to be an overnight process or a quick fix.”

  “I’m aware, dad, it's just that I'm ready to move on with my life. Move past all the medications. Move past all the medical restrictions and hiding so that people won't treat me differently," I say, wal
king towards my closet grabbing more clothes to pack.

  “To be fair, sweetie, you have to admit that part of that is your own doing,” he looks me dead in my eyes. “You made the decision to hide your condition. No one ever told you to do that. Do you honestly think it makes you look stronger?”

  “Not now, I already know where this conversation is headed.”

  “Fine, I don’t want to argue. Let’s just focus on getting you ready for the trip.”

  I can always tell when my father has had enough, and I know he’s only telling me this for my own good.

  “Sorry, dad I’m just a little testy about having to move for the procedure even if it’s just until I recuperate. You know how much everyone is counting on me to be there for the show premier.”

  “I want you to listen to me. It’s been long enough, and your condition isn’t getting any better,” my dad reminded. “You need this surgery from this doctor, and I’ll be damned if I let some TV show take precedence over your health, this doctor could be everything that we’ve been praying for.”

  “I love you, dad.”

  “As I do you, sweetheart, now let’s finish packing,” he finished sliding my huge suitcase towards the end of my bed. “You women pack so much stuff, good lord, the plane is going to fall out of the damn sky.”

  Here we go, my dad, the comedian. He always has a way of lightening the mood with his quick wit. He's the only man I've ever known who can still get me to laugh about my condition and the many changes as a result of it.

  I’m not looking forward to meeting yet another specialist, but maybe this one’s the charm, as my dad said. It would be a miracle. I will have a chance of being pill-free, or at least a bag or two less than what I have to cart around with me right now.

 

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