Chapter 1
The shrill ring of my work phone cut through the silence of my apartment at exactly 4:03 a.m.
For a moment, I stared at the ceiling and considered pretending I hadn’t heard it.
The phone rang again.
Apparently, pretending wasn’t an option this morning.
With a groan, I rolled over and reached for the nightstand.
“Harrison Neurology. Dr. Cole speaking.”
“Sorry to wake you, Doctor.”
I recognized the charge nurse’s voice immediately.
Nobody from the hospital called at four in the morning to discuss the weather.
I sat up.
“What’s wrong?”
“We have a twenty-three-year-old male in the ER. Motorcycle accident. Severe head trauma. Trauma team is requesting a neuro consult.”
Of course they were.
I glanced at the clock.
Four-oh-three.
I glanced toward the coffee maker sitting silently in my kitchen.
Four-oh-three.
The coffee maker and I were equally unprepared for this conversation.
“I’ll be there in twenty.”
The call ended.
I sat there for exactly three seconds before throwing the blankets back and forcing myself out of bed.
Three seconds was all the self-pity I could afford.
⸻
Twenty-two minutes later, I pushed through the employee entrance of Harrison Memorial Hospital with a coffee in one hand and my white coat draped over my arm.
The automatic doors slid open.
The familiar scent of disinfectant, stale coffee, and sleep deprivation greeted me like an old friend.
Home sweet home.
“Morning, Dr. Cole.”
“Morning.”
“Good morning, Doctor.”
“Morning.”
I returned greetings automatically as I moved through the halls. By the time I stepped into the elevator, my exhaustion had already begun slipping away.
There was a version of me that existed outside these walls The woman who forgot to buy groceries. The woman who left laundry in the dryer for three days. The woman who still hadn’t called her mother back. That woman didn’t matter right now.
Dr. Ember Cole did.
The elevator doors opened.
The emergency department was exactly as chaotic as I expected. Monitors beeped. Phones rang. Stretchers moved in every direction. Someone was crying. Someone was laughing. Someone was probably bleeding. Just another Tuesday.
“Well, look who finally decided to join us.”
I didn’t have to turn around to recognize the voice.
“Good morning to you too, Gabby.”
“Good morning?” Gabriela Santos appeared beside me carrying a coffee the size of a small child. “It’s four-thirty in the morning. There is no good in this morning.”
A smile tugged at my mouth. Gabby looked annoyingly awake Her dark hair was pulled into a sleek ponytail. Her scrubs somehow looked freshly pressed.
Mine already looked like I’d slept in them. Which, to be fair, wasn’t entirely impossible.
“You’ve had caffeine.”
“You say that like it’s a crime.”
“You’ve had too much caffeine.”
“There is no such thing.”
“Your eye is twitching.”
“It’s enthusiasm.”
“It’s twitching.”
She narrowed her eyes.
I sipped my coffee.
She sighed dramatically.
“I hate when you’re right.”
“Yet here we are.”
⸻
We rounded the corner toward Trauma Two.
Gabby glanced sideways at me.
“You got called in?”
“Motorcycle accident.”
“Yeah. He’s pretty bad.”
My smile disappeared.
“How bad?”
Gabby’s expression softened.
Just slightly.
The joking always stopped when patients were involved.
“Pretty bad.”
I nodded.
That was enough information.
No dramatics.
No sugarcoating.
Just facts.
One of the many reasons she was my favorite trauma surgeon.
⸻
The room was crowded.
Residents.
Nurses.
Trauma staff.
The patient lay motionless on the bed.
Twenty-three years old.
Too young.
They were always too young.
I moved forward.
Immediately.
The room shifted.
Not because I was important.
Because everyone knew their role.
And this was mine.
I stepped beside the bed.
Reviewed the scans.
Read the chart.
Listened to reports.
Asked questions.
Answered questions.
Made decisions.
For the next forty minutes the rest of the world disappeared.
No hunger.
No exhaustion.
No distractions.
Just medicine.
Just responsibility.
Just a young man whose future could change based on what happened in this room.
⸻
By eight o’clock, I was finally leaving the neuro floor.
My coffee was gone.
My stomach was empty.
My patience was hanging on by a thread.
I was checking a message from a resident when my personal phone buzzed.
Jonah ❤️
A smile appeared before I could stop it.
Jonah❤️-Good morning, beautiful.
-You awake?
I snorted.
A second text appeared.
-Stupid question.
-Of course you’re awake.
-Normal people wake up at six.
-You apparently wake up whenever the hospital decides.
Another message.
-Lunch today?
There he was.
Reliable as sunrise.
I typed back.
Me: Depends.
Three dots appeared immediately.
The man practically lived on his phone.
Jonah❤️-Depends on what?
Me: How annoying you’re planning to be.
His reply came five seconds later.
-Very.
-Extremely.
-Potentially record-breaking levels.
I laughed despite myself.
A nearby nurse glanced over.
I pretended not to notice.
Jonah❤️-Lunch at one?
Me: I’ll try.
-That’s doctor language for no.
Me: That’s doctor language for maybe.
Jonah❤️-Love you.
The words sat on the screen.
Simple.
Familiar.
Comfortable.
I smiled.
Me: Love you too.
And I meant it.
By the time my shift finally ended, the Miami sun was beginning its slow descent toward the skyline.
I was halfway to my car when my phone buzzed again.
Not Jonah.
The sibling group chat.
Which was somehow more dangerous than the emergency room.
Jalen:
Drinks tonight.
Jasmine:
That wasn’t a question.
Jalen:
Drinks tonight?
Damien:
Still not a question.
Jalen:
We’re doing drinks tonight.
Jasmine:
There it is.
I smiled.
Idiots.
Every last one of them.
Jalen:
Ember?
Jalen:
You alive?
Jalen:
Blink twice if the hospital kidnapped you.
I typed back.
I’m alive.
Immediately:
Jalen:
SHE LIVES.
Jasmine:
Seven o’clock.
Damien:
Don’t be late.
I hesitated before typing another message.
Can Gabby come?
The response was instant.
Jalen:
That’s the dumbest question you’ve asked all year.
Jasmine:
Gabby isn’t a guest.
Damien:
Tell Gabby she’s already included.
A smile spread across my face.
Jalen:
Honestly, if somebody had to stay home, it’d probably be you.
Rude.
Jalen:
Accurate.
Fine. We’ll be there.
Jasmine:
There she is.
Damien:
See you both at seven.
Jalen:
And for the love of God, wear something that doesn’t have bodily fluids on it.
No promises.
Jalen:
That’s deeply concerning.
I laughed, shaking my head as I climbed into my car.
Seven o’clock.
One drink.
A little time with my siblings.
And apparently Gabby.
Then home.
A perfectly normal evening.
At least, that’s what I thought.
I had no idea my life was about to change.
Nor that, in less than twenty-four hours, I would meet a man whose emerald-green eyes would haunt me long before I ever learned his name
Author’s Note
Enjoying Ember’s journey?
Follow her character account on Instagram:
@em.n.cole
📚 Ash & Emerald by Mara Allison
Available on Wattpad & Inkitt









Ohhhh those green-eyed men! 🫠
What a great start! I am curious to find out more about this mysterious green eyed man. Great writing!