I thought about telling Mom. She’d be proud and relieved that I finally had something stable and well-paying.
I thought about telling Riven…
My chest ached.
I could already hear how it would go.
“It’s a good opportunity,” he would say calmly and measured. “You should take it.”
No hesitation. No reaction. Just that same controlled tone like it didn’t matter either way.
Or worse–he would just nod once and say, “When do you start?” like I was any other staff transition.
Or would he ask me to stay?
I shook my head. That was ridiculous. He’d given me a job and a place to live when I had nothing. He didn’t owe me anything. I didn’t owe him anything either.
This was business. Professional. Temporary from the beginning.
So why did it feel like so much more than that now?
I lay in bed staring at the ceiling in the darkness.
Riven's room was still empty. He wasn't home yet. Part of me wanted to wait up, to hear his footsteps in the hallway, to know he'd made it back safely.
But that was ridiculous. He was my employer. His schedule wasn't my concern.
I rolled onto my side and pulled the blanket higher, closing my eyes.
But all I could think about was how, two weeks ago, I had nothing.
And now I had a choice that felt impossible to make.
CHAPTER TEN
RIVEN
The surgical schedulefor next week looked like absolute hell. I stared at my computer screen, annotating staffing conflicts and equipment availability with growing frustration. Three valve replacements. Two coronary artery bypass grafts. One transplant evaluation. All high-complexity cases. All carrying significant mortality risk.
My door opened without a knock.
Cassian walked in and closed it deliberately behind him. He wore that particular expression that meant he was about to say something I wouldn't want to hear.
"We need to talk," he said.
I didn't look up from my screen. "I'm busy."
"This can't wait."
"It can absolutely wait."
"Riven." He sat in the chair across from my desk uninvited. "I ran into August in the surgical wing."
My fingers stopped typing mid-word.
"He seemed pleased with himself," Cassian continued, his tone careful. "Mentioned he'd just offered Mireya Rosen a position at St. Catherine's."
The words took several seconds to fully register. My hands froze above the keyboard.
