14. Rebecca
REBECCA
R ebecca stood beside Tessa, her ex, but it felt like she was miles away.
The bustling hallway of the hospital was a blur around them, doctors and nurses moving past like background noise.
Tessa had always been effortlessly charming, always the center of attention wherever she went, and today was no different.
She stood confidently in front of Rebecca, talking animatedly about old times, her voice laced with flirtation, but Rebecca barely registered the words.
Inside, Rebecca felt like she was crumbling. Her brief interaction with Lillian replayed in her mind—how she had looked at her with that wounded expression when Rebecca had referred to her as just another intern. The sting of Lillian’s hurt was sharp, and guilt gnawed at her.
She hadn’t meant it like that. She hadn’t meant to push Lillian away, especially after the night they had shared, a night that had felt more intimate and real than anything Rebecca had experienced in years.
But the moment Tessa had appeared, something in her had snapped back into place—the old Rebecca, the one who knew how to compartmentalize, to shut down, to protect herself from emotional exposure.
And now, as Tessa leaned in closer, her perfume subtly filling the air, Rebecca could hardly focus.
"So," Tessa was saying, her voice playful and smooth, "how about we grab a drink sometime? We’re older now, wiser. Maybe we won’t make the same mistakes we did back then."
Tessa's smile was easy, flirtatious, and it would’ve worked on anyone else. But Rebecca’s mind was miles away, stuck on Lillian’s face, the way her eyes had filled with disappointment and confusion.
Rebecca managed a weak smile, nodding absently. "Yeah, sure. We can...catch up."
She barely heard her own words, her agreement automatic, empty. Tessa had once been the woman she thought she’d build something with, but now, as she stood there listening to her talk about their shared past, Rebecca felt nothing but the weight of her own mistakes.
Tessa chuckled, reaching out to touch Rebecca’s arm lightly, a gesture that would have once sent a thrill through her. Now, it just felt hollow.
"Good," Tessa said, her voice teasing. "I’ll hold you to that. It’ll be just like old times."
Rebecca nodded again, forcing a polite smile, but her mind wasn’t in the conversation. She excused herself a few moments later, making some excuse about needing to get back to work, and Tessa waved her off with a wink.
"Don’t forget about that drink," Tessa called after her, her voice light and playful.
Rebecca barely responded, turning on her heel and walking briskly down the hall. Her footsteps echoed in the corridor as she made her way back to her office, each step heavier than the last.
Her heart ached, guilt pressing down on her chest. She hadn’t wanted to hurt Lillian; she never wanted to hurt her.
But there was something about being around Tessa that had triggered an automatic response in her.
Tessa represented the past—the part of her life when Rebecca had been incapable of letting anyone in, when she’d hurt Tessa the same way she was now hurting Lillian.
By the time she reached her office, Rebecca’s head was spinning. She pushed open the door and sank into the chair behind her desk, running a hand through her hair as she tried to steady her breathing.
The office was quiet, sterile. The sound of her computer humming was the only noise breaking the silence, but it did nothing to calm her. She couldn’t stop thinking about Lillian, about how she had pushed her away just when things were starting to feel real.
Rebecca leaned back in her chair, staring up at the ceiling.
She had spent so much of her life perfecting the art of emotional distance, of keeping people at arm’s length to protect herself from getting hurt.
But now, with Lillian, everything felt different.
The walls she had built were crumbling, but every time she got too close, she instinctively rebuilt them—just like she had today.
And it wasn’t fair. Not to Lillian, not to herself.
With a sigh, Rebecca reached for her phone, her fingers hesitating over the screen.
She wanted to apologize and explain herself, but the words felt stuck in her throat.
How could she explain something that she didn’t fully understand herself?
How could she make Lillian understand that her coldness wasn’t a reflection of how she felt, but a defense mechanism she had relied on for years?
She typed out a message, her heart pounding in her chest: I’m sorry.
It felt insufficient, inadequate, but she didn’t know what else to say. She stared at the words, feeling the weight of everything she wanted to say but couldn’t. Finally, she hit send, her chest tightening with guilt as the message disappeared into the ether.
Rebecca leaned back in her chair, the phone still in her hand, waiting for something—anything—that would ease the gnawing guilt inside her.
But as the minutes ticked by and the silence in her office grew louder, Rebecca realized that she had a lot more to apologize for than just a single text could convey.
She couldn’t stop thinking about Lillian, the way her vulnerability had shone through despite Rebecca’s coldness. How much longer could Lillian put up with her push and pull? How much longer before she walked away, tired of being hurt?
The thought terrified her. The thought of losing Lillian, of pushing her so far away that there was no going back, made Rebecca’s heart race. But as much as she wanted to change, as much as she wanted to let Lillian in, she didn’t know how to break the cycle.
She had spent so many years perfecting this version of herself—the version that was unflappable, distant, in control. Letting that go, letting Lillian see the vulnerable side of her, was terrifying. But not as terrifying as the idea of losing her.
Rebecca sat there in the quiet of her office, staring at the phone in her hand, waiting for a response that she wasn’t sure would come.
She stared down at her phone, her fingers hovering over the screen. The text she had sent— I’m sorry —was too little, too late. Lillian hadn’t responded yet, and Rebecca couldn’t blame her. She had hurt her, and for what? To protect herself from the discomfort of Tessa’s presence?
The guilt was a constant pressure, like a weight pressing on her chest, but behind it was something deeper—a fear Rebecca had never fully faced. She wanted Lillian. She wanted this to work. But every time they got close, she panicked, retreating into the safety of her emotional distance.
She sighed, leaning back in her chair, closing her eyes briefly. The weight of everything—the hospital, the patients, the past—pressed in on her, suffocating. And then, as if on cue, her phone buzzed. Rebecca’s heart leapt, hoping it was Lillian finally replying to her apology, but it wasn’t.
It was Tessa.
Rebecca opened the message, her stomach twisting as she read the words.
How about that drink, hmm? Tomorrow night?
Tessa had always been direct, confident, and relentless. She knew what she wanted, and she never hesitated to go after it. Once upon a time, Rebecca had admired that about her—maybe even found it intoxicating—but now, Tessa’s persistence only made her feel worse.
She hadn’t been listening earlier when Tessa had suggested they grab a drink and "catch up.
" Her mind had been with Lillian, replaying their shared night, feeling the vulnerability she’d shown.
Rebecca had nodded along, agreeing without really thinking, because it was easier than confronting the mess she had made with Lillian.
But now, looking at the message, she knew she didn’t want to see Tessa again—not like this. Not when her heart was tangled up with someone else.
Rebecca’s fingers hovered over her phone, unsure of how to respond. She could brush it off, make up an excuse. Or maybe she should go, drown herself in the familiarity of her past relationship with Tessa. Maybe that would help her forget what a mess she was making of things with Lillian.
Before she could make a decision, there was a knock on her office door. Her assistant, Jackson, poked his head in, his usual chipper demeanor slightly subdued as he glanced at her.
"Dr. Lang," Jackson said, his voice gentle. "Everything okay?"
Rebecca blinked, her phone slipping from her fingers onto the desk. She hadn’t realized how frazzled she must look, how much her inner turmoil was showing on the surface.
"I’m fine," she replied quickly, straightening in her chair and forcing a small smile. "Just a long day."
Jackson didn’t seem convinced, but he didn’t push. He stepped into the office, holding up a stack of files. "These are the post-op reports you asked for. I can leave them here if you’d like."
"Thanks," Rebecca said, her voice distant. She took the files from him, setting them down on her desk without really looking at them.
Jackson lingered for a moment, his eyes flicking to her face. "Are you sure you’re okay? You seem...distracted."
Rebecca opened her mouth to brush him off again, but the concern in his eyes made her pause.
Jackson wasn’t just her assistant; he had worked with her for years, and though she kept most people at arm’s length, she had always trusted him to handle things with care.
But this? This wasn’t something she could explain in a few sentences.
"I’m fine, Jackson," she said after a beat, her voice softening slightly. "Just...a lot on my mind."
Jackson nodded, though he still seemed unconvinced. "Well, if you need anything, I’m around."
"Thanks," Rebecca said again, offering him a brief, grateful smile.
As Jackson left, closing the door behind him, Rebecca exhaled slowly, leaning back in her chair once more. Her gaze drifted to her phone again, Tessa’s message still unanswered.
What was she doing? Agreeing to meet Tessa again, allowing herself to get pulled back into a past that she had already walked away from. She didn’t want to go, not really. But the idea of losing herself in something familiar—something that didn’t require her to feel so deeply—was tempting.
And yet...it wasn’t what she wanted. Not anymore.
Her thoughts drifted back to Lillian. The way she had looked at her during their breakfast that morning—soft, hopeful, vulnerable.
Lillian was so different from Tessa. So different from anyone Rebecca had ever allowed herself to care about.
With Lillian, things weren’t easy, but they were real.
And that terrified Rebecca because real meant there was something to lose.
Her phone buzzed again, but this time, it wasn’t Tessa.
Rebecca’s heart skipped as she saw Lillian’s name flash across the screen. The message was short, but the words cut through her like a knife.
Sorry doesn’t change what happened today.
Rebecca’s breath caught in her throat, guilt swirling inside her. She stared at the screen, her fingers itching to type something—anything—that would make it better. But she didn’t know what to say. She had hurt Lillian. Again. And there was no quick fix for that.
She typed and deleted her response several times, her heart heavy with the weight of it all.
The words she wanted to say, the explanations, the apologies—they felt empty in the face of what she had done.
How could she explain the mess of emotions inside her?
How could she tell Lillian that every time she got close, Rebecca felt like she was drowning?
Finally, she typed a message, her fingers trembling slightly as she hit send.
I know. But I’m trying.
It wasn’t enough. She knew it wasn’t enough. But it was all she had at that moment. She leaned back in her chair, running a hand over her face, the exhaustion of the day settling deep into her bones.
Rebecca closed her eyes, memories of the past swirling in her mind.
Tessa. The woman who had once been so close, but had never been able to break through Rebecca’s walls.
She remembered how Tessa had tried to get her to open up, how she had pushed Rebecca for more—more emotion, more connection.
But Rebecca had shut her out, just like she had shut out everyone else.
And now, years later, here she was, doing the same thing to Lillian.
The same pattern, the same mistakes. But this time, it felt worse.
Because with Lillian, there was something different.
Something deeper. And Rebecca wasn’t sure if she was capable of giving her what she needed, no matter how much she wanted to.
The flashback hit her like a wave, pulling her back to the days when she and Tessa had been together.
The long nights of working side by side in the hospital, the shared meals, the quiet moments that had always felt just a little too distant.
Tessa had wanted more—had needed more—but Rebecca hadn’t been able to give it to her.
It had ended, not with a fight, but with a slow, inevitable drift apart. Tessa had moved on and found someone who could give her the emotional connection she craved. And Rebecca had stayed behind, burying herself deeper in her work, maintaining her control.
Now, sitting in her office, Rebecca could see the parallels between then and now. She was doing it again—pushing Lillian away, afraid of what it would mean to truly let her in.
But Lillian wasn’t Tessa. Lillian wasn’t just someone who could be replaced or forgotten. She was different, and Rebecca felt it in every part of her.
The thought terrified her.
She glanced down at her phone again, the weight of Tessa’s message pressing down on her like a lead blanket. It would be easy to go back to the familiarity of Tessa’s company. To slip back into old habits, into a relationship that didn’t demand too much from her emotionally.
But Rebecca didn’t want easy. Not anymore.
She quickly typed a reply to Tessa, her fingers moving faster now as she hit send before she could second-guess herself.
I can’t. I’m sorry.
It wasn’t an explanation. It wasn’t an apology for the past. But it was a step in the right direction.
Rebecca dropped her phone onto the desk, the tension in her chest easing slightly as she made that decision. She had hurt Lillian, and she didn’t know if she could fix it. But she wasn’t going to let herself run away again. Not this time.
She opened a new message thread, her heart pounding in her chest as she typed another text to Lillian.
I know I hurt you today. Can we talk?
She stared at the message for a long moment before hitting send, her breath catching as the message went through. It was small, but it was honest. It was a start.