Inside, though, everything feels dangerously close to unraveling.
The word foolish won’t stop echoing.
Career-ending.
Foolish enough to fall for.
I nod at something Susan says, I don’t even know what, and force a smile that feels brittle around the edges.
“I’m just going to run to the bathroom,” I say, gathering my tablet even though I don’t need it. “Be right back.”
She hums absently, already back to her notes.
The moment I step into the hallway, the air feels thinner.
My chest tightens. My pulse races. I keep walking, fast, head down, like I’m late for something. I make it halfway to the bathroom before the first tear slips free.
I wipe it away quickly.
Another follows.
Then another.
“Get it together,” I whisper to myself, pushing through the door and into the empty restroom. I grip the counter and stare at my reflection.
Career-ending.
Foolish.
The words feel like accusations.
Because what if they’re right?
What if I am foolish?
What if everything I’ve worked for—every late night studying, every sacrifice, every step toward building something of my own—gets ripped away because I couldn’t resist him?
I blink hard, but the tears keep falling.
The door opens and I quickly exit before anyone asks what’s wrong.
I step back into the hallway with uncontrolled emotions.
“Doc?”
The voice hits me like a jolt.
I lift my head.
Wilder stands at the end of the hallway, eyes already locked on mine.
“Amelia?” His expression shifts instantly. “Oh fuck. What’s wrong?”
He crosses the distance in seconds.
And the minute his arms wrap around me, I lose it.
Completely.
