Undead Boyfriend

Cassie Baker was, by most standards, an ordinary young woman. She lived in a typical city, worked a regular job, and filled her days with beautiful predictability that somehow never felt dull. In a word, Cassie’s life was comfortable. And comfort—true, steady happiness—was something many people longed for. That everyday peace came from one thing: security. She lived in a city she adored and spent her days helping people. She had the kind of life most would long for in its simplicity. Cassie was an ER nurse at Denver Hospital. The job was challenging, but she loved it. She loved the rhythm of it, the small victories, and most of all, the people. Her coworkers had become like a second family—each of them unique, each adding a little more light to her life. Not that she didn’t have a family of her own. She did—it was just... complicated. Cassie had grown up in Virginia, a self-proclaimed army brat with an even brattier older brother, Conrad. The two were inseparable once, before puberty and life began to pull them in different directions. Their “happy home” had cracks she didn’t notice until she was older. There was no cheating, no shouting matches, no gambling debts—nothing so dramatic. Their parents simply weren’t like other parents. Cassie couldn't remember the last time her father brought her mother flowers or told her she was There were no random acts of kindness, no words of affection. Everything about him was black and white. His wife was adequate. His children were sufficient. His job? That he loved. And maybe that was the problem. No one—not even Cassie’s mother—could compete with the U.S. government for his affection. When her parents divorced, Cassie followed her mother to Colorado. Conrad stayed behind with their father. She didn’t blame him. He’d always gotten along better with the old man. Maybe he just wanted to "be all he could be." Cassie used to tease him about reading too many Captain America comics, convinced he thought he was the star-spangled man with the plan. Cassie, though, had her mother’s heart. She wanted thin air, quiet mornings, and the clarity of mountain skies. She and her mother would take long drives through Fort Collins and into the hills, watching elk and moose during the fall. Cassie cherished those simple moments. Peaceful, star-blanketed nights. A world that felt still. But life has a way of noticing when you're happiest—and taking it away. Cassie was a senior in high school when her mother got sick. Cancer doesn't care if your daughter hasn't even graduated. Watching her mom fade day by day was the worst kind of helplessness. That’s when Cassie chose medicine. Not to cure cancer—she knew that was far off—but to be there for people the way no one could be there for her. After her mother’s death, her father and brother managed to transfer to Colorado. A surprise, really. Her father didn’t scream “compassionate,” and she doubted he came out of love. He cared—she knew that—but his love was rigid, cold, locked behind duty and discipline. She and her mother had never fit into his blueprint for a perfect life. Yet there he was at the funeral, dressed in uniform, looking like he’d lost his best friend. Life rarely felt fair. Cassie had even changed her last name back to her mother's—Baker. Her mom had urged her not to, but some wounds went too deep. It wasn’t that her father was cruel. Just… distant. Unyielding. Cassie couldn’t stand by and let her mother's quiet sadness go unnoticed. Taking back her mother's name felt like a triumph—small, but hers. Cassie was a lot like her mother. Quiet, thoughtful, always aware of the feelings around her. She made people feel safe. That skill helped her find her place at the hospital quickly. She made friends who filled the space her mom left behind. First came the Vargas twins. Felicia worked in the NICU as a respiratory nurse, sunny and warm, instantly adopting Cassie like a long-lost sister. Victoria worked in admissions. Grumpy most of the time—but then, admissions wasn’t exactly a joyful job. She was the first face people saw when they were having the worst day of their lives. Cassie saw past Victoria’s scowl, though. Especially when a certain ER doctor walked by. Dr. Anthony Lopez. Brilliant, dedicated, and—by some mystery—unfazed by Victoria’s temper. Their unspoken game of cat-and-mouse amused the whole staff. Cassie also found something else at the hospital—something she didn’t realize she was missing: father figures. Oddly enough, they came in the form of two very different doctors. Dr. Francis Boswell, the elegant, precise Chief of Plastic and Reconstructive Surgery, and Dr. Oliver Kirk, the unshaven, sardonic Medical Examiner. One realigned noses; the other opened bodies in silence. And somehow, the two men became unlikely friends—grumbling, bickering legends among the staff. Cassie adored them both. They took her under their wings, offering advice, bad coffee, and the kind of quiet guidance she hadn’t known she needed. So yes—Cassie had a good life. She was fulfilled. Busy. Surrounded by people who cared. But she was alone. Watching her friends thrive—fall in love, build futures—made the walk to her quiet apartment feel hollow. At night, she’d curl into bed with nothing but a worn stuffed bear, a gift from her mother, and try to ignore the ache in her chest. Everything changed the day Felicia invited her to the beach. “Oh, please, Cassie! Come on. You never have fun. And I really want you to meet my boyfriend—he’s amazing!” Cassie had laughed, but curiosity got the better of her. She agreed. She didn’t know it then, but that sunny afternoon would change her life forever.