Chapter 8
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The deliberate cruelty of his timing made my chest tighten. Nathan stood abruptly, positioning himself between his father and my bed.
"This isn't the time or place," he said quietly, but with an edge I rarely heard him use with his father.
Victor stepped further into the room, his gaze sweeping over my injuries with clinical detachment. "On the contrary. This seems like the perfect opportunity to discuss certain matters. Dr. Carter, I understand you've been working with the Sullivan child—Lily, is it? Such a tragic case."
I stiffened, professional instincts kicking in despite my physical discomfort. "My patients are confidential. I don't discuss them with hospital board members, even ones as... invested as yourself."
"Invested. Yes, that's one way to put it." Victor smiled thinly. "The hospital is facing some difficult financial decisions. Resources must be allocated wisely. Cases with... complicated legal implications might not be the best use of our limited staff."
Was he threatening me? My mind raced, trying to understand why Victor Carter would take an interest in Lily Sullivan's case.
Nathan stepped closer to his father, his voice dropping to a dangerous level. "That's enough. Olivia's been in an accident. Whatever business you have can wait."
Victor studied his son for a long moment, then nodded slightly. "Of course. Family first—oh, but I forget. She's not family anymore, is she?" He turned to me with false concern. "Do take care of yourself, Dr. Carter. The hospital would hate to lose such a... dedicated professional."
With that parting shot, he left the room, leaving a chill in his wake.
Nathan turned to me, his expression troubled. "I'm sorry about that. He had no right—"
"It's fine," I cut him off, though it wasn't. "I'm used to your father's... charm."
Nathan ran a hand through his hair, a gesture so familiar it made my heart ache. "Olivia, there's something you should know. About Lily's case—"
A nurse entered to check my vitals, interrupting whatever Nathan had been about to say. As she worked, I watched Nathan's face, noting the worry lines that hadn't been there eight months ago, the new threads of silver at his temples. He looked tired—bone-deep tired, the kind that comes from carrying a heavy burden.
For a moment, I allowed myself to wonder: what if there was more to our story than I knew? What if the simple narrative I'd constructed—Nathan abandoned me when I needed him most—wasn't the whole truth?
But then I remembered the sight of him with Rebecca in our kitchen, standing too close, speaking too softly. I remembered the cold hospital room where I'd lost our child, alone and afraid. I remembered the months of silence that followed, the gradual disintegration of everything we'd built together.
Some betrayals cut too deep for second chances.
Yet as I watched him by my hospital bed, his concern evident in every line of his body, I couldn't help but feel the first hairline crack in the wall I'd built around my heart.
Olivia's POV
After Victor left, Nathan paced the small hospital room, tension radiating from him in waves. I'd seen this before—the aftermath of his encounters with his father often left him agitated, caught between filial duty and his own moral compass.
