Or it should have.
“You know,” Roz’s voice cut across the room like a scalpel, “if you stare at that scan any harder, it might start blushing.”
Catherine didn’t look up. “Don’t you have someone’s brain to poke around in?”
Roz dropped into the chair across from her, legs crossed, a smug smile playing at her mouth. She peeled the foil off the top of a yogurt cup with exaggerated slowness. “Just finished. Flawless craniotomy. But let’s talk about your extracurriculars.”
Catherine shifted the scan slightly, feigning focus. “I’m not in the mood.”
Roz spooned yogurt into her mouth, undeterred. “You’ve been glowing, you know. Ever since that gala. Your little artist friend must be very good with her hands.”
At that, Catherine did glance up, her expression cold and sharp. “Is there a point to this?”
Roz smiled. “Plenty. But mostly I’m just enjoying watching you pretend nothing’s happening while it obviously is. That’s always been your speciality: pretending.”
“Don’t be juvenile,” Catherine snapped.
Roz leaned back, hands up. “Fine. No teasing. But for the record, it’s not a bad thing, you know. Letting someone in.”
Catherine didn’t answer. Just turned her eyes back to the scan and willed Roz to vanish.
Mercifully, Roz got up to toss her yogurt cup. “You’ll tell someone eventually. Probably Olivia. She’s nicer than me.” With that, she gave a lazy wave and disappeared down the hallway.
Catherine barely exhaled before Olivia slipped in through the door.
Her younger sister had the kind of presence that never felt disruptive, even when she entered mid-sentence. She held two coffees—hers with cream, Catherine’s black. She always remembered.
“I saw Roz in the hall,” Olivia said quietly, setting the cup beside Catherine without ceremony. “She said you were in here terrorizing innocent scans.”
“I’m fine,” Catherine said, almost automatically.
Olivia didn’t sit. She hovered, uncertain, her gaze soft. “I’m worried about you.”
Catherine took a slow sip of the coffee. It was hot, bitter, and grounding. “There’s nothing to worry about.”
“You’re quieter than usual.”
“I didn’t realize there was a baseline,” Catherine replied dryly.
Olivia smiled gently but didn’t let her off the hook. “You haven’t been answering calls. You left Sunday lunch early last week. And I heard from Clara that you skipped the board dinner.”
Catherine stiffened slightly. “I had a procedure.”
“You always have a procedure.”
Silence pressed between them. Catherine set the scan aside and finally met her sister’s gaze. Olivia’s eyes were too kind. Too knowing.
“You don’t have to do everything alone,” Olivia said.
“I’m not,” Catherine said, sharper than she meant. “I have work.”
Olivia looked at her for a long moment, like she could see everything Catherine was holding back, how exhausted and frayed she was. How the smile Roz teased her about had vanished the second she walked out of Sloane’s bed.
“Work’s not a person,” Olivia said quietly. “It doesn’t keep you warm.”
Catherine didn’t reply. Her throat was tight.
There were so many things she wanted to say. That she didn’t know how to need people without resenting them for it. That the moment Sloane touched her, she’d wanted more than she was capable of asking for. That she was terrified she’d already ruined something that hadn’t even had the chance to begin.
