An Intern Claimed Her Husband Owned The Hospital—So I Made One Call

nights, the scar on his chin from when he’d slipped in the OR as an intern because he refused to leave a procedure, even when the soles of his shoes were slick with god-knows-what.

“Yeah,” I said. “I do.”

His eyes widened. “Catherine, no. I’m a cardiologist. I finish my days smelling like antiseptic and saline. I don’t wear suits. I don’t—”

“That’s exactly continue reading …