The Doctor Who Has No Ambition (Soulless Book 9)

by Victoria Quinn

  “Oh god, please don’t say that…” I’d already dealt with Mom getting cancer. I didn’t want to even think about my father lying on a table, his chest cut open, his heart still because it’d been shut down and now his life was dependent on the bypass machine.

  His eyes softened. “I just went for my annual checkup, and I’m one-hundred-percent healthy.”

  I released a sigh of relief. “You better be…”

  He moved his glass to the side and reached his hand across the table to squeeze mine. “I would put my life in your hands in a heartbeat—no pun intended. That’s all I’m trying to say. You’re the top heart surgeon in the world, and it’s time for you to return to your life of service, of healing people, of bringing quality health care to everyone who needs it. You know I’m not religious, but the work you do makes me wonder if I should be.”

  I dropped my gaze, touched by what he said.

  “I’m so proud of you.”

  “I haven’t done it yet—”

  “But you will. And your mother and I will be there to celebrate.”

  Derek sat on the couch beside me, leaning back with Little Deacon asleep on his chest, wearing pajamas that showed space rockets and satellites. The game was on, so we drank our beer and ate the chips and salsa Emerson had put out for us. “You doing okay?” He turned to look at me.

  “I guess.”

  “I’ll never forget the day I launched the Commodore. I was scared shitless, but I sat right on this couch holding hands with Emerson and Lizzie…and watched it go out into space without a hiccup.”

  “Hey, watch the language.” I glanced at his son.

  Derek rolled his eyes. “This guy is out like a light. Had one hell of a day at the office.”

  “You take him with you to work?”

  “Sometimes. I usually do a half day with paperwork and whatnot and bring them with me. I don’t like them at day care all the time.”

  “That’s cute.”

  Derek shrugged. “You been doing anything to prepare?”

  “I’ve watched a couple procedures in the surgical theaters with the residents. They want me to start bringing in students to assist, but I told them I need to complete this surgery before I feel comfortable again.”

  He nodded in understanding.

  “Every time I try to prepare for it, I realize there’s nothing I can really do. I’m ready. I just need to do it.”

  “Yeah, I doubt you would simply forget something you’ve trained for your entire life. Your skills were never the problem.”

  I turned to look at the TV again. “I’ve spent the rest of my time doing research. The practice is technically open, but I’m not taking any new patients right now. Sicily says the phone is ringing off the hook and her email is being hit hard. Word travels fast.”

  “Well, when people find out the best surgeon in the world is open for business again, they are going to get excited.”

  I never identified with that label anymore, not even on my best day. When patients repeated my track record back at me, I almost didn’t believe that was me. It seemed like they were talking about a whole other doctor. “How are things with you?”

  He drank from his beer and watched the TV. There was a long pause as he waited for the play to finish. Then he turned back to me. “I’m working on a new energy system that allows solar absorption into a microplate. It provides high energy absorption over just a few inches, and it can be implemented in cities and rural areas, so we don’t need to have solar plates on roofs, et cetera. The rocket program is still running and we’re always making improvements, but we’re also working on new prototypes for hospital equipment.”

  “That’s cool.”

  “With the internship program, we can do more things than we used to. They’re excited to work on these projects and get their names on the products, so they work day and night, and I basically test everything out. It allows me to do many things at once.”

  “You do that with the rockets too?”

  “No,” he said quickly. “If there’s a chance of mortality, I only let myself and my team work on it. Interns can participate passively, but that’s it.”

  “And how are things with you and Emerson?”

  “Good. I want another baby. She said no.”

  “Why’d she say no?”

  “Because she doesn’t get enough sleep as it is,” he said with a chuckle. “Between taking care of the little ones and me, she doesn’t have a lot of time. But when Lizzie is gone, I’m going to miss having three kids.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’d like a girl too. I like having boys, but I’m going to miss having a daughter around.”

  “Well, maybe you can just hide her pills and knock her up.”

  Derek chuckled. “Not a bad idea.”

  Lizzie came down the hallway with her notebook in hand. She sat on the cushion between us. “Dad, I don’t get this.” Her paper showed calculus equations, college-level because she was in an AP course.

  Derek looked down at her paper then helped her out, taking her pencil and making some notes.

  I watched the game.

  When they were done, Lizzie turned to me. “Uncle Dex, I heard you’re going to do heart surgery again.”

  I nodded. “The rumors are true.”

  “That’s so cool. If I weren’t going to be an engineer like Dad, I would be a heart surgeon like you.” She got off the couch and walked back to her room, looking at the work on her notebook.

  I watched her go before I turned back to Derek.

  He was smiling. “In case you needed another reason…”

  I sat in my office at the hospital, the same office that had belonged to me a year ago. Heart surgeons weren’t as common as they should be, even in Manhattan, so the vacancy had never been filled. The office collected dust and cobwebs because I hadn’t been there to continue the work I’d pledged my life to.

  It left a pain in my chest that had nothing to do with heart disease.

  The door was open, so a light knock sounded.

  I turned in my chair to look at Sicily.

  She gave me a slight smile before she came inside and sat in one of the armchairs against the wall.

  “What are you doing here?”

  She opened her bag and set a container on the table along with a bottle of Gatorade. “Just in case you wanted to eat something and get some electrolytes before you stand on your feet for twelve hours.”

  “I already ate.”

  “I thought that might be the case, but I wanted to make sure.”

  I continued to sit and stare, waiting for her to leave.

  “I also thought…you could use some company.” She glanced at my computer, which was off, and saw that I didn’t have any paperwork out either. I was literally just sitting there doing nothing, staring off into space. Marc had already been checked in, and once he was sedated in the OR, it would be time for me to scrub in. I chose to sit as long as I could before I had to stand over him for a long period of time.

  “Well…thanks.” My parents had come by before I went into my office to give me some words of comfort and a couple hugs, and they would return later to be there when it was over—for better or worse.

  She gave me another gentle smile, her green eyes lighting up as she looked at me, like she felt my dread in her own veins. “Of course. I could have stayed at the office or did other things, but I would just be thinking about you the entire time, so…”

  With my cheek propped against my closed knuckles, I stared at her, seeing the way she stared back while hardly blinking. I knew this woman cared about me for me, had cared since the day we met, and now it was even more obvious as we worked together. She believed in me, respected me, had become a friend. I’d wanted to be alone, but now that she was there, it was nice to have her company. “I spoke to Marc and Angelica before the procedure. He seemed in good spirits about it.”

  “I’m sure he’s excited. They fought really hard to get this surgery. They’r
e ready for it.”

  I nodded slightly.

  “You’re ready for it too.”

  “I tried to do more prep work, but there’s really nothing for me to do.”

  “If you’ve done 600 procedures, you’re already prepared, Dex.”

  I dropped my gaze.

  “I read that you actually stop the heart to do the procedure. That’s wild.”

  “It’s necessary to remove the blood clots without affecting the pulmonary arteries. If I make a single scratch, his lungs will fill with blood and he’ll be gone. There’s a lot that can go wrong with this.”

  “But it won’t,” she said confidently. “I believe in you.”

  I dropped my gaze again.

  “I know you’ll believe in yourself too…once this is done.”

  I kept my gaze averted, keeping my heart low and calm.

  “You’re so young. How did you do that many surgeries?”

  My eyes flicked back to her. “When I was in residency, I took on as many surgeries as I could. I lived, breathed, and slept at the hospital. When everyone else went home and lived their lives, I stayed.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I wanted to be the best. I didn’t have my first fatality until after 250 surgeries.”

  “Yeah, I saw that. When did you know you wanted to be a heart surgeon?”

  “Always. It’s been a part of my identity since I can remember. I’ve always wanted to help people the way my dad does.”

  Her eyes softened. “I can tell it’s your passion.”

  “Sometimes people ask me what my second-choice occupation is, what I would be if I weren’t a heart surgeon,” I shook my head and gave a shrug. “The answer is, there is nothing else. I live and breathe for the heart. I busted my ass in medical school to be the best to get into the residency program at Johns Hopkins because only the top students get selected. I’m really close to my family, and there are many years that I didn’t really see them because I was so dedicated to what I was doing, but I made that sacrifice because it was important to me. It’s everything to me.”

  Her eyes lingered on my face, like she could listen to me talk about it all day. “You’re going to go in there and kick ass, Dex.”

  The chuckle that came from my lips was involuntary because I hadn’t expected her to say something like that. “Thanks.”

  “You have no idea how excited I am to be a part of your world, to help you help people. It’s such an honor. Truly. I get paid to help you help people. That’s the best job ever.” Her eyes started to smile, her sincerity obvious.

  I didn’t know what to say to that, so I said nothing.

  “Sometimes, I think it was meant to be—that my doctor retired, that I came to the Trinity Building, that Cleo arranged this.”

  I dropped my hand from my cheek and rested it on the surface of the desk, staring at her as I tried to decipher her meaning, unsure why she would think this moment was meant to happen. “Why do you say that?”

  She looked down for a moment, tears visible under her eyelashes, bubbling up in size until they formed into drops and dripped down her cheeks. “Because…I was born with a hole in my heart, and a doctor saved my life.” She lifted her gaze and looked at me, her eyes wet. “My parents couldn’t afford the operation, and it bankrupted us. So…what you do means the world to me.”

  It was the first time I stopped thinking about the surgery that was about to happen, and I focused on something else entirely—the woman sitting across from me. Now I understood why she believed in me so fiercely, why she pushed me to get back to work, why she was so passionate about a job someone else wouldn’t care about. My hand immediately moved forward, and I grabbed hers, thinking about someone opening her up and stopping her heart to pull a piece from one vessel to repair the atrial opening in her chamber, of the stress she and her family endured, not just about her well-being, but the financial fallout that it caused. Speechless, I just stared at her.

  She squeezed my hand back, her damp eyes on me, looking at me like I was the one who’d fixed her, when I was just a young boy at the time. The relationship between a doctor and a patient was sacred, a connection so deep that it couldn’t really be described. I had that with her now…even though she had never been my patient.

  The nurse stepped inside my office. “Dr. Hamilton, we’re ready for you.”

  I continued to hold Sicily’s hand as I stared at her, my fingers unwilling to let go.

  More tears fell down her cheeks. “Go save his life, Dex.”

  I stared at her for a few more seconds before I gave a nod. “I will.”

  Once it happened in real time, the fear left me.

  Like the muscle memory had never left me, I did what I was trained to do, standing over Marc and cutting his chest open, stopping his heart, and getting the bypass going. The clock started—and I had thirty minutes to make this happen.

  “Suction.” I used my tools to get access to one of the vessels, cutting it open so I could pull out the first clot. “Tray.” I dropped the tissue into the cup, and the nurse took it away. I was always aware of the pulmonary wall, making sure my hand didn’t sway by a fraction of a millimeter and inflict deadly damage. “Time.”

  “Twenty-eight minutes, sir,” the nurse said.

  I had to speed up.

  I kept working, kept removing the clots, kept my hands steady and pushed out all my thoughts. It was almost like mediation, to have my brain empty of everything else except the heart in front of me.

  Clot after clot was removed.

  There were machines hooked up to Marc to notify me how the heart was doing every step of the way, but I could tell just by looking at the heart. A happy heart looked different from a distressed heart—just with the naked eye. And every time I removed more clots, the heart became happier. “Time.”

  “Ten minutes, stir.”

  I only had a few more to go. I was making great time, better time than I thought, and I was almost finished with time to spare. When I was on the last one, I started to feel anxiety. I was so close to the finish line, and that just made me more afraid that something would happen and fuck everything up.

  I was not letting Marc die on me.

  When I got the last clot, it was over.

  Now I had to start his heart and get him off bypass. “Restart. Remove bypass.”

  We completed the next steps, his heart beating instantly, practically smiling at me. Bypass was removed, and his arterial pressure was checked.

  “His levels are normal.” The nurse turned to me, and a mask covered her mouth, concealing her smile, but it was visible in her eyes.

  I smiled back. “Fuck yes.”

  The nurses laughed.

  “Let’s get Marc closed up.” I stitched him back together and continued to monitor his vitals. Everything looked good. His blood pressure immediately improved, his heart rate was now at normal levels, and everything looked perfect.

  Once it was finished, I stepped back and let the ICU nurses take him away. My gloves were pulled off, and the nurses helped me remove all my gear. It was over, everything went well, but my heart still beat a million miles a minute.

  I went into the waiting room after I scrubbed out.

  My parents were there, along with Sicily.

  It was déjà vu.

  Angelica was there with her kids, sitting beside Sicily and holding her hand.

  But this time, it was different because there was a big-ass fucking smile on my face.

  Dad’s eyes lifted, and a slow smile moved on to his lips, already knowing what happened.

  Mom was already welling up, on the verge of tears.

  Angelica left her chair and walked to me as I walked to her, her hands shaking and her eyes terrified despite my wide smile.

  “Everything went perfectly.” This was what I missed most about my job, walking into the waiting room and saying this to the family of the patient, that they would get to take their loved one home…and be happy.

 
Her hands covered her mouth, and she started to sob. “Oh my god…”

  I felt my eyes start to water too, started to feel the old ache in my chest, to be reminded of why I got into this…and not to let the past ruin what I was meant to do. My hand moved to her shoulder to silently comfort her. “His vitals are normal. He’s breathing well. When he wakes up, he’ll feel like a whole new person.”

  She continued to sob into her hands beside me, the catharsis taking her over, the sobs making her chest heave.

  I kept my hand on her shoulder. “You can see him in a little bit.”

  She eventually dropped her hands and looked at me. “Thank you…thank you.” She grabbed my hand and held it between hers, pressing her forehead down as she said a prayer.

  Speechless, I just watched her express her gratitude for what I’d done, something I would have done even if I never got a thank-you, if I never got anything in return.

  She released my hand then pulled her necklace over her head, a silver cross on a simple chain. “My grandmother gave this to me…I want you to have it.” She raised it up to put it around my neck.

  “Whoa, whoa.” I raised my hand and stepped back. “I can’t accept that.”

  “Please.” She moved toward me again. “God bless you, Dr. Hamilton. My grandmother would want you to have this for saving the life of the father of my children. Please.”

  I was still hesitant accepting such a gift, but I allowed her to put it around my neck and let it dangle from my throat. “I…I don’t know what to say. Thank you.”

  “You’re a man of God, Dr. Hamilton. May he bless your soul as long as you live.” She pressed her hands together and gave a gentle bow before she looked at me again. “Thank you, thank you.” She squeezed my arm before she walked around me and went to the nurse so she could get ready to be taken back to see her husband.

  The whole experience was surreal, so I just stood there, absorbing it.

  My parents left their chairs and came toward me, my dad’s arm around Mom’s waist, pride so goddamn bright in his eyes, it was like a lighthouse in a storm.