Dr. Fake It - A Possessive Doctor Romance

I squeezed my eyes shut and could feel the accident again, the black SUV ramming us from the side, the way my mother screamed as I tried to keep control of the car—and the way the world seemed to explode and turn to darkness when we slammed headfirst into a pole.

“I’m sorry, Mom,” I whispered, although I wasn’t sure what I was apologizing for. Maybe getting into the accident to begin with, or maybe for not marrying Cosimo when I had the chance—or maybe for not making sure she had her damn seatbelt on.

That’d been the thing that saved me from the worst of it, but she hadn’t been so lucky. If we’d been going a little faster, or if I hadn’t slammed on the brakes soon enough, she’d likely be dead instead of in a coma.

I felt an odd sense of desperation and leaned forward. She looked so old and fragile in her white and blue-speckled gown beneath the harsh lighting. Her hair was turning white, and we had the same smile, the same nose, though I had my father’s complexion and his attitude.

“Did you know how much he owed, Mom?” I asked, reaching out to hold her hand. “Did they come to you first?”

She didn’t answer, of course—she looked like she was sleeping. The doctors told me they didn’t know if she’d ever wake up, and if she’d ever be the same if she did. She might have suffered too much brain damage and it was very possible she’d need long-term intensive care for the rest of her life.

I had no clue what I was going to do. I knew I’d have to help my mom no matter what, if I couldn’t afford that on top of paying down that bastard Cosimo. I felt desperate and terrified, and I tightened my grip on her hand. I was barely twenty-three, never went to college, had middling grades in high school, and had no prospects, no future, nothing at all that suggested I might be able to make the sort of money that would save me from this situation.

“He owed them thirty grand, Mom,” I said, looking at her unmoving face. “Thirty thousand dollars. I don’t have even a third of that. They said he bought drugs from them and planned on selling everything, but he ended up using half of them himself. I didn’t believe it at first, but he really did it, didn’t he? That’s why he jumped off the Ben Franklin. That’s why the Coast Guard found him floating in the Delaware. Goddamn it, Mom, why would he do that?”

But I knew the answer already. My dad was a piece of shit, plain and simple. He was an addict, an emotionally abusive asshole, a criminal, and everything I hated. He drifted in and out of our lives, taking advantage of my mother, spouting vile insults at me when he had the opportunity, and generally making our life a living hell. I asked Mom once when I was younger why she stood it, why she didn’t divorce him and get a restraining order, but she’d only shaken her head and given me a sad smile.

“Honey,” she’d said, and lit up a cigarette, “you’ll understand one day that the heart wants what it wants, even when it’s bad for you.”

I still didn’t get it, and I wondered if I ever would.

“He can’t keep doing this to us,” I said, shaking my head, and reached out to stroke her hair. She didn’t flinch, didn’t move, only kept breathing steadily in and out. “He’s dead and he’s still ruining our lives. When is it going to end?”

I hung my head and stared down at the sheets and wanted to scream. I felt so out of control and alone. My only ally in the world was unconscious, and I knew I couldn’t turn to anyone else—my friends at work wouldn’t believe me, and my friends from high school were all losers and assholes.

There were no saviors in this world, and if anyone was going to get me out of this situation, it had to be me.

I heard the door slide open. I looked over my shoulder as that doctor stepped into the room, Dr. Call Me Gavin. He was handsome, really handsome in that way doctors had—dark hair cut short, blue eyes, square jaw, tall and muscular. He clearly took care of himself and cared about his appearance. I narrowed my eyes at him and tried to look like I belonged, even though I knew I was breaking the rules.

He was nosy and I didn’t like it. I didn’t know what he wanted from me or what he was getting at earlier, but he suspected something. I had to be careful with him.

“You know you’re not supposed to be in here,” he said, leaning up against the wall. He gave me a tight smile and stretched his neck.