Emilia walked down the hospital hallway, her pulse hammering in her ears. The air felt too thick, every breath an effort as she replayed the conversation between Chase and Hallie in her head. The words themselves were a blur, but the ache they left behind was razor-sharp. She had spent over a decade loving him, believing in a future that no longer existed, and now, here she was—reduced to nothing more than a bystander, a witness to the life he had chosen with someone else.

She shouldn't have stopped to listen. She shouldn't have let herself care. But it was impossible to ignore the pain threading through her every step. It wasn't just the fact that he had left her behind—it was that he hadn't even given her the truth. And now, she had to face him, had to stand in front of the man she once believed was her forever and pretend like none of this was tearing her apart.

She reached the nurses' station, hoping the hum of chatter and the steady routine of her job would ground her. Yanique offered her a small smile, one laced with quiet understanding, but Emilia couldn't bring herself to return it. Not when everything inside her felt like it was unraveling.

She shouldn't even be checking on Hallie. The conflict of interest was glaringly obvious but apparently Dr. Michaels was compromising. She couldn't believe he'd do this to her, knowing the rules. She needed to leave. This job, this place, Chase—she needed to walk away before it broke her completely.

But before she could move, before she could force herself to put one foot in front of the other, a familiar voice cut through the noise.

She froze. Her body betrayed her before her mind could catch up. She should keep walking. She should pretend she hadn't heard him. But she turned anyway, her heart pounding, her breath unsteady.

Chase stood there, desperation etched into every inch of his face. "We need to talk."

She stared at him, willing herself to feel nothing. "There's nothing to say."

"There's everything to say." His voice was raw, strained. "Please. Just—just hear me out."

Too many people. Too many eyes. She exhaled sharply and turned on her heel, leading him to the one place they could have this out—the one place she could fall apart without an audience.

Her office door shut behind them with a quiet click, and she immediately folded her arms, steeling herself. "Make it quick, Chase. I have work to do."

Chase exhaled sharply, raking a hand through his hair like he was trying to pull himself together. His voice, usually steady, wavered. "Em, please—it's not what you think."

Emilia let out a bitter laugh, but it felt more like a breath caught in her throat. "Not what I think? You cheated, Chase. You made me believe in you, in us, and then you threw it away. How the hell do you justify that?"

His jaw tensed. "Damn it, it's not real. None of it is real."

The words hit her, sharp and unexpected. A flicker of something—hope, maybe—ignited for a second before she crushed it. "Then what the hell is it, Chase? Because from where I'm standing, it looks a whole lot like you choosing her."

His hands curled into fists at his sides, like he wanted to reach for her but knew better. His voice dropped, low and rough. "She has no one else. The real father walked out, and I—I couldn't just turn my back on her. It's what I've always done, Em. I fix things. I protect people."

She stared at him, her breath catching, fury and devastation crashing into each other inside her chest. "You don't get to stand there and make yourself the hero. Not this time."

"I never wanted to hurt you," he whispered, the crack in his voice betraying the fight in his own heart. "I just—she needed me. I thought I could handle it, I thought I could be there for her and still—"

"Still what?" she cut in, her voice sharp, laced with betrayal. "Still keep me on the sidelines while you play house with her? Still pretend like what we had didn't matter?" She shook her head, stepping back, putting distance between them. "You lied to me. You shut me out. And the worst part? I believed in you. I trusted you. I loved you. And you made me feel like I was nothing."

"You're not nothing," Chase said fiercely, his voice breaking. "You're everything."

She squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head. "Then why wasn't I enough? Why did you choose her over me?"

He opened his mouth, but no words came out. For once in his life, Chase had no answer. No way to explain the choices that had led them here, no justification for the hurt he had caused. Because deep down, he knew the truth—Hallie had always had a hold on him, not because he loved her, but because she had always been the girl he saved. It was a role he didn't know how to let go of, even when it cost him everything else.

And Emilia? She had never needed saving. She had needed him to choose her.

His silence was all the answer she needed. Her chest ached, but she straightened her shoulders, forcing back the tears burning at the edges of her eyes.

"That's what I thought," she whispered, voice hollow.

Chase reached for her, desperation flashing across his face, but she took a step back. "Don't," she said, her voice barely above a breath. "I can't trust you, Chase. I can't believe you. And if I can't do that, then what's left?"

He swallowed hard, his hands falling uselessly at his sides. "Don't shut me out, Em. Please."

She looked at him then—really looked at him—and for the first time, she saw him not as the man she loved, but as the man who had broken her.

"I'm not shutting you out," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm walking away."

And this time, she didn't stop.

_________________________________

Trying to keep herself together, Emilia realized she couldn't go on like this anymore. Though her job was on the line, she knew the ethic's board and her supervisor would be on her side, so she goes back to the nurse's station and calls Sara, one of her fellow nurses and ask her to do the checkup exams herself, before seeking out Yanique. Finding her near the break room, she pulled her aside.

"I can't do this," Emilia blurted out, frustration thick in her voice.

Yanique frowned. "Do what? What happened?"

Emilia ran a hand through her hair, exhaling sharply. "Dr. Michaels is pressuring me to do this, to keep working with Hallie and Chase, like my job depends on it. And maybe it does, but... I don't know if this is where I should be anymore. Chase still has some kind of influence over my life, and I can't move on if he's always going to be a factor."

Yanique studied her for a long moment before nodding. "Then maybe it's time to make a choice, Em. What do you really want?"

Emilia's jaw tightened. "It's not just about what I want. It's unethical. This is a clear conflict of interest, and yet the director doesn't seem to care. It's like they'd rather turn a blind eye than actually do something about it."

Yanique's expression darkened. "That's messed up."

"Yeah," Emilia muttered. "And I don't know if I can keep pretending like it's not."

She took a deep breath. "I'll use my vacation time and transfer Hallie's care to another OB-GYN. I need to step back and think things through."

Yanique nodded. "I have no problem taking the case."

Relief flooded Emilia as she opened Hallie's file and handed it to Yanique, explaining what she had observed. Then, without another word, she made a beeline for her supervisor's office.

Emilia took a steadying breath as she walked down the hall toward Dr. Claire Robbins' office. Her heart pounded, frustration and exhaustion intertwining in her chest. She needed to do this—needed to put an end to whatever game Dr. Michaels thought he was playing.

She reached the office door and knocked firmly.

"Come in," came Claire's voice, slightly muffled. There was the sound of rustling paper, like she was finishing up a late lunch. "Who is it?"

"It's Emilia. Do you have a minute?"

There was a pause, then, "Of course. Come in."

Emilia stepped inside and immediately met Claire's sharp, assessing gaze. The older woman set aside a takeout container and leaned back in her chair, eyes scanning Emilia like she was reading her pulse from across the room.

Claire had trained Emilia, mentored her, and had always considered her one of the best OB-GYNs in the department. She was confident, poised, and thorough. But right now, something was off. Claire could see it in the tight set of her shoulders, the way she held her breath for just a second too long before speaking.

Claire was still chewing as she glanced up, mid-lunch, mid-email, mid-everything. "What's going on?"

Emilia didn't sit. She couldn't. She stood stiff, arms crossed like they were the only thing holding her together. "Michaels assigned me to a patient—Hallie Rogers."

Claire barely reacted at first, flipping through her mental Rolodex of names before her fork stilled mid-air. She blinked. "Wait. Rogers. As in Chase's...?"

"Girlfriend. Yes."

Claire set her fork down. Slowly. Her expression was unreadable, but that single movement sent a chill down Emilia's spine. "You're joking."

"I wish."

For a second, Claire just stared, then exhaled hard, pressing her fingers against her temple. "Tell me you turned it down."

"Michaels didn't exactly leave room for negotiation."

That got her. Claire's gaze snapped to Emilia's; her eyes sharp now. "He pressured you?"

"He made it clear that if I didn't comply, there'd be consequences." Emilia's voice tightened. "He didn't say it outright, but I know a damn veiled threat when I hear one."

Claire leaned back in her chair, arms crossed, jaw clenched like she was fighting back words she wanted to say but couldn't—yet. "That son of a—" She stopped herself, inhaling sharply. "This is beyond inappropriate. This is a lawsuit waiting to happen."

"Yeah," Emilia muttered, exhaustion dragging down every syllable. "And I don't know if I can keep pretending like it's not. I gave the case to Yanique and Sara and I was thinking since all of this was sudden, I'd use one of my vacation weeks if possible..."

Claire stared at her for a long moment, then sighed. "You're taking one week off. Effective immediately. I'll handle the paperwork."

Emilia swallowed hard, something like relief breaking through her exhaustion. "You mean it?"

For the first time that day, Emilia felt something close to hope. Maybe, just maybe, she wasn't fighting this battle alone.

"I wouldn't say it if I didn't." Claire stood, pulling out a folder like she was already ready to go to war. "Take your time, Em. And when you come back, we'll deal with Michaels together."

Emilia nodded, finally allowing herself to breathe. "I appreciate you, Claire. More than you know."

Claire gave her a tight smile. "Go. Before I change my mind and drag you into a full-blown war with administration."

Emilia let out a small laugh, shook her head, and turned for the door. As she stepped out, the weight on her chest felt just a little bit lighter. 

_____________________________________________________

As Emilia started feeling a little steadier, she deliberately took the long way to her office, avoiding the hallway that led past Hallie's room. The last thing she needed was another reminder of the mess she was trying to escape.

The moment she stepped inside, Yanique was already grinning at her like the Cheshire Cat. "Girl, someone left a package for you. It's on your desk."

Emilia blinked, momentarily confused—until her phone buzzed. She glanced down at the screen. A text from Henry.

Henry: Hey, beautiful. Can't wait for tonight. Sent you a little something—should be waiting for you in your office right now. 😉

Her breath hitched.

A gift?

Her heart stumbled for a moment, her feet picking up pace as she hurried back to her office.

The moment she stepped inside, Yanique was already standing there, grinning.

"Girl," she practically squealed. "There's a package in there. Who sent it?!"

Emilia hesitated at the door of her office, Henry's text still burning on her screen.

A gift.

She should be excited. She should be smiling. Instead, her fingers hovered over the doorknob, heart hammering, an ache she hadn't fully processed still pressing against her ribs.

It's just a gift, she told herself, not a promise. Not a future.

Exhaling, she pushed the door open.

The box sat neatly on her desk—white, elegant, tied with a crisp ribbon. A small card rested on top, Henry's handwriting slanted across it.

"For tonight. Hope you love it. I have great taste—don't worry. 😉"

A laugh—small, unexpected—escaped her.

She ran her fingers lightly over the ribbon, tracing its smooth edges. For the first time all day, the tension in her chest eased, just a little. Maybe, just maybe, she could let herself breathe again.

________________________________________

Author's Note: This chapter has been officially rewritten to address some of the questions many of you had :) Expect more edited and expanded chapters soon. Thank you all for your patience and kindness throughout this process. I know novels don't usually work this way, with edits before chapters and so on, but since this is my first novel, I'm doing my best to make it as great as possible :)