I'd desperately hoped he hadn't noticed.
"You've been different since she moved in," he continued. "Less closed off. More present. Emma mentioned it too. She said you smile now. Not those fake ones you give patients."
"You talked to Emma about this?" I turned, genuinely annoyed. "She really has no filter."
Cassian chuckled. “We’re buddies when it comes to gossiping about you.” He paused. "The head nurse noticed it too. She said you've been asking about Rosen’s schedule. What shifts she's working and when she has days off."
I rubbed my face roughly. "I need to know when Emma's medical supervision will be available."
"You could just ask Mireya directly. Or check the schedule I send you every week." His tone remained even—not accusatory, just stating observable facts. "But you don't. You ask me specifically about Mireya."
"What exactly is your point?"
"My point is something's changed. And you need to figure out what that means before she makes her decision about August's offer."
"There's nothing to figure out. This is a professional arrangement. Temporary from the beginning. She provides nursing care for Emma. I provide housing. That's the extent of it."
Cassian studied me with those unnervingly perceptive eyes. "Then why do you look absolutely terrified right now?"
My back straightened, shoulders tensing.
"I'm not terrified," I said, but the words sounded hollow even to my own ears.
"You are. I've known you long enough to recognize it." Cassian stood and walked to the window beside me. "You're scared she's going to leave. And not just because you'll lose an excellent RNFA."
"I don't know what you want me to say," I finally admitted.
Cassian sighed, staring at me through our reflection in the glass. "I want you to be honest with yourself about what you really want."
"I want my surgical team to stay intact. I want August to stop interfering in my life. I want things to stay the way they are." The words came out more defensive than intended.
"And if she takes the offer? If she moves out? What then?"
My stomach dropped.
I imagined the penthouse without Mireya, going back to how it was before. Quiet. Empty. Just me and Emma and too much space. No coffee in the morning. No sound of her voice talking to Emma.
No Mireya.
The thought made me want to put my fist through the window.
"Then she accepts it," I said, forcing my voice flat and emotionless. "It's an excellent opportunity. She'd be foolish not to take it."
"Even though it means leaving Emma? Leaving your house? Starting over somewhere new?"
"People do it all the time. It's called career advancement."
"It's also called running away from something you're not ready to face," Cassian said quietly.
I looked at him sharply. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means you're both doing the exact same thing. Building walls, maintaining distance, pretending this is purely professional when everyone around you can see it's become something else entirely."
"There's nothing else. She works for me. That's all."
"Keep telling yourself that." Cassian headed for the door. Then stopped with his hand on the handle. "I think you should talk to her before she makes a decision. Tell her you don't want her to go."
I shook my head. "I can't do that. I don't have the right. She deserves a real home. Not just a guest room in someone else's apartment."
