Page 33 of Sweet Heart

“Why are you upset, Cat? You got exactly what you asked for, didn’t you?”

“I—no. What the fuck, Carmen?”

“Don’t ‘what the fuck’ me,” she growls as she smacks her palm flat on my desk. “This is exactly what you wished for. ‘No, Carmen, I can’t date her. I was her treating physician. No, Carmen, she isn’t anyone. No, Carmen, she should not be in this hospital at all.’”

I stare at her, at how her mouth twists as she mocks me, and how her eyes narrow while they burn with a rage I have never seen in her, and I feel myself getting sick. Well done, Doctor Durand. You lost her, too.

A sharp pain claws at my chest and cuts off the flow of air. I push my chair back, but Carmen won’t have it. She is on the other side of the desk before I can even rise, planting her hands on either side of me and boxing me in.

“Like hell you will,” she hisses, bringing her face so close to mine that I can feel her breath. “You are not running away from this.”

I try to push myself up with a huff, but one strong shove with her hand against my sternum puts me back in my chair. I blink up at her while her eyes flash at me, and something in me bristles. My fingers curl around the armrests, and my lip curls up in a snarl. But before I can speak, Carmen grabs my face with both hands and presses her forehead against mine.

“Enough, hermana. Stop fighting me.”

Her voice is so soft and tender, laced with an edge of desperation, that it drains all the fight from my body. It makes room for something different, something painful, and I feel a prickling sensation behind my eyes. What am I even doing?

“Carmen, lo sien—”

“Shh. I know you are. It’s okay. You are basically my sister, Katherina. We fight. You haven’t lost me. You will never lose me.”

The way she can read me tugs at my heart. I gasp. She breaks away, her thumb brushing my cheekbone, and I feel myself crumble under her warm gaze. My eyes brim with tears when I look up at her in desperation.

“What do I do?”

She smiles and kisses my forehead before she props herself up on my desk. That stone-cold woman from seconds ago is already completely gone. Good. I have no wish to see that side of her ever again.

“I thought you’d never ask,” she taunts and playfully nudges my shoulder with her knee.

I huff out a laugh, and for the first time this week, the knot in my chest loosens a bit.

“Go on, then.”

Carmen clasps her hands together, a faint smile tracing her lips. A part of me braces. She will tell me things I don’t want to hear. I know that. But I also know she’s been there for me every step of the way. I am not alone in this.

“We have seen each other at our best and at our worst. You were there when my mamá… and when you finally broke up with Alex, you came to me first.”

I nod hesitantly. Where’s she going with this?

“But through all of our lowest lows, I’ve never seen you quite like this, Kitty Cat.”

She frowns and lets her eyes trail over my face. I shuffle uncomfortably.

“Like what?”

“Defeated.”

The word hangs heavy between us, tasting like chalk in my mouth. It doesn’t sting, it doesn’t cut. It doesn’t even hurt. It’s just truth. She is right. For the first time in my life, I endured an unfavorable outcome and accepted it as a fact.

Carmen watches me as I take in her words, carefully reading my face. I nod, feeling incredibly small.

“You asked me what you should do now,” she hums as she slides off the desk. “Well. The Catherine Durand I know would never accept having made a mistake and not getting to the bottom of it. She’d analyze every moment to find a fix or do better next time. Wouldn’t you agree?”

She raises an eyebrow and places her hands on her hips. What did you do to deserve such an amazing friend? She is right. Of course she is. I don’t tolerate this in my professional life. I don’t walk away because the line goes flat. I start compressions. And sending Mary a text asking if she is okay after what happened isn’t enough. Not by a long shot. If I want to fix this, I have to get to her.

My eyes dart up, and when I push out of my chair this time, Carmen lets me.

“I have to go,” I breathe, and she nods.