I didn't know which was worse. A clean rejection I could grieve and move past or this limbo where hope and despair existed—both of them slowly driving me insane.
Friendship. He offered friendship. And I didn't know if I could survive being that close to him without wanting more.
The next morning, I arrived at Obsidian before the sun was up for the review meeting. The parking lot was still half-empty and the hospital quiet before the morning rush.
I slept poorly, my dreams tangled with confessions and the look on Cassian's face when he saidokaylike it was the most natural response in the world.
I was walking through the main entrance, badge in hand, when I saw a car pull into the lot.
It was Maya’s car. I recognized it from the day I'd seen them together outside the hospital, back when I first started and the sight of them had felt like swallowing the thorns stuck in my throat.
I stopped behind the glass doors, watching as she parked in the visitor lot near the east wing.
Cassian was in the passenger seat.
They got out together. Maya said something that made him laugh, and he reached for her hand as they walked toward the entrance. She leaned into him, and he pressed a kiss to her hair.
Then, just before they reached the doors, he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her properly. The kind of kiss that saidI'll miss youandI love youand made everyone walking past smile at the obvious affection between them.
I couldn't move.
Or look away.
I just stood there and watched the man I'd confessed my love to less than twenty-four hours ago kiss his girlfriend like she was the center of his universe.
They pulled apart. Maya said something else, probably goodbye, and headed back toward her car. Cassian watched her go with a smile on his face, then turned toward the entrance.
His eyes found mine through the glass.
For a split second, his step faltered. His eyes held mine, and I caught recognition there. Maybe discomfort or it could be something closer to guilt. Then he blinked and kept walking, rearranging his expression into the same blankness he'd worn in the stairwell.
He nodded once, a casual acknowledgment, and walked past me toward the elevator bank.
I stood there for another thirty seconds, watching his back disappear around the corner as something in me went still.
This was what letting go looked like. This was the answer I've been waiting for, delivered not in words but in action.
He heard my confession and gone home to Maya. He woke up this morning and let her drive him to work. He kissed her in the parking lot where anyone could see—where I could see—like my feelings were already forgotten.
Perhaps they were.
Maybe I was the only one who spent five years holding onto something that had stopped existing the moment I signed those divorce papers.
"Dr. Karras."
I turned. Riven stood near the reception desk with Mireya beside him. Both of them were watching me with concerned expressions. They'd seen everything. The kiss. My frozen posture.
"Riven. Mireya."
"Early start," Riven observed. His tone was neutral, but his dark eyes missed nothing. They never did.
Mireya touched my arm. "Can we talk in private?"
I followed her to a small consultation room off the main corridor. The space was cramped, designed for difficult conversations with families, and it felt appropriate given what was happening inside my chest.
"You saw them," Mireya said once the door closed. "How are you doing?"
I sank into one of the chairs, the exhaustion hitting me all at once. "I told him I still loved him yesterday."
