Chapters (38)
- Cover
- REWRITE THE STARS
- Dedication
- Author’s Note
- Epigraph
- i
- ii
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-One
- Chapter Twenty-Two
- Chapter Twenty-Three
- Chapter Twenty-Four
- Chapter Twenty-Five
- Chapter Twenty-Six
- Epilogue
- Acknowledgements
- About the Author
- Also by Emma Heatherington
- About the Publisher
‘It’s like Doctor Doug Ross is coming to visit,’ I tell him, ‘so the finest crockery will be pulled out that day. My mam was a big fan of the series ER. She thinks you’re like a younger George Clooney in your white coat. I think she’d faint if she ever saw you in green scrubs.’
He looks away shyly and I take a moment to admire him from where I’m sitting across from him. Jack is easy on the eye, there’s no doubt about that. He’s neat, he’s tidy, he’s well-groomed and impeccably dressed, always. He’s sexy in his scrubs, which he wears when on surgical duty at a different hospital, he’s hunky in his casual pale blue shirt that he wears now under a tailored black jacket and he’s equally handsome in a T-shirt when he’s just been to the gym. His short brown hair, charming blue eyes and wholesome smile could light up a room, and anyone who’s met us both lately believe we’re a match made in heaven. The doctor and the teacher – we look good together, we laugh a lot and he’s invested months of his career in saving my brother’s life.
So why do I still feel like there’s something missing?
Sophie and Harry Darling, Harry and Sophie Darling.
I go over and over the names of Jack’s friends in my head, desperately hoping I don’t get them wrong when I see them later. I’m hopeless with names and these two sound like they belong in the royal family, but I’m looking forward to meeting people from Jack’s world. So far in our ‘relationship’ it’s been all about my family, especially Matthew.
Psychologist Sophie Darling, née Walsh, is a lifelong friend of Jack’s from boarding school and her husband Harry is an ex rugby player, now a dentist, who moved here from Wales when they married two years ago. We’re going for drinks in an award-winning wine bar, then to dinner in a top seafood restaurant and tonight we’ll stay in Harry and Sophie’s spare room in their apartment they share with their two Yorkshire terriers.
I feel incredibly out of my depth for some reason. I’m a working-class girl from the asshole of nowhere. Maybe it’s just nerves.