CHAPTER 30
Time seemed to stop.
They stared at each other like two strangers who were never meant to meet.
A cold wave ran through Nina. She pushed the drawer shut with a useless motion; it clicked softly. Then she met Lynn’s eyes.
What was she supposed to say?
What could she possibly do?
Lynn stood frozen. Her gaze was frightened, guarded—like she’d caught Nina doing something… questionable. First came surprise, then confusion. And suddenly… recognition.
“Oh my God,” she breathed, her voice trembling. “You’re… the woman who saved me!”
Nina went rigid. Her mind refused to process the words. Lynn shut the door behind her and stepped closer, slowly.
Nina was still sitting in Jasper’s chair, unable to form a single sentence.
Lynn set the takeout bag on the desk and stopped in front of her. And Nina… Nina felt something inside her twist painfully, like she’d just been cornered.
This was why Jasper hadn’t wanted her to come. This was why he’d tried so desperately to get rid of her. He’d been afraid she would run into Lynn.
Nina drew in a breath, but it caught painfully in her throat.
“I’m sorry, I…” Lynn gave her a warm, sincere smile. “I was just so scared that day. And I never thanked you. So—thank you.”
Nina had no idea what to say. No idea how to look her in the eyes.
“I brought my dad some food,” Lynn added, glancing at the bag. “He works so much he rarely has time to eat. Always busy, always skipping meals. What about you? What are you doing here?”
The question was innocent, but Nina felt something seize painfully in her chest.
A heavy pause filled the room. She had to answer. Anything. Any lie.
She forced a smile.
“Well…” Her voice came out rough. “Your father squeezed me in without an appointment. I’ve had… some minor health issues.”
Lynn’s expression changed instantly. Her eyes sharpened with concern.
“Wait, are you having heart problems?”
She inhaled sharply, her fingers tightening around the bag’s handle.
A cold shiver crept down Nina’s spine.
She cares so much…
Nina didn’t want to lie again, but what was she supposed to say?
“No, nothing serious,” Nina assured quickly. “I just wanted an opinion from a qualified specialist. For… peace of mind.”
Lynn relaxed slightly and nodded.
“I understand. My dad’s the best. You’re definitely in good hands.”
Nina couldn’t find a response. She simply nodded, though inside everything was tightening, suffocating—guilt, fear, tension.
Lynn hesitated for a moment, as if unsure how to begin, then her expression softened with genuine warmth.
“You know, I actually tried to find you,” she admitted, “to thank you for that day. I didn’t know where you lived, otherwise I’d have reached out sooner. But…” she gave an embarrassed smile, “I guess fate brought us together again.”
Nina froze. She stared at the girl, fighting the sting in her chest. The sting of guilt she’d been carrying for years—toward the very child she’d abandoned to fate.
But Lynn didn’t know. And maybe she never would.
Better that way.
“There’s nothing to thank me for,” Nina replied calmly, masking the tremor in her voice. “Anyone would’ve done the same.”
Lynn shook her head and brushed her hair back.
“No, not anyone. You put yourself in danger, you risked your life. It was…” She exhaled softly. “It was incredibly brave. You saved me.”
Nina managed a weak smile, not knowing what else to say.
She looked at the girl and realized she genuinely enjoyed seeing her like this—so bright, so honest, so kind.
Jasper had raised her well. Nina never should’ve doubted that.
And suddenly she felt herself spiraling.
Her heart ached brutally at the thought that this girl—this beautiful, gentle girl—was the child she had brought into the world.
If only she hadn’t acted out of fear back then… if only she’d looked past her pain… everything could’ve been different.
Nina reached for her purse without thinking, then froze when she felt her fingers shake.
Taking her pills in front of her daughter—bad idea.
“So… maybe we could at least exchange numbers?” Lynn suggested suddenly, her voice a little eager. “I’d love to take you out to dinner to thank you properly.”
“No, no, that’s really not necessary,” Nina rushed to refuse, waving her hands slightly. “I’m honestly just glad you’re okay, but…”
She paused, swallowed.
“…you don’t have to.”
Lynn’s face fell for a moment; she sighed quietly.
“All right. But if you ever…” She hesitated. “…if you ever change your mind, just tell my dad. I’d be happy to.”
Nina nodded again, but inside she felt herself fold inward.
Fold from the knowledge that, in this room, she was nothing but a liar, a woman Lynn was thanking for saving her life, without knowing the truth of how her life had begun.
“If you get hungry,” Lynn said with a soft smile, “help yourself. There’s enough for Dad and for you too.”
Nina didn’t know what to say—she only pulled the bag a little closer to her out of reflex.
“Then I’ll go,” Lynn added, taking a step toward the door. But she didn’t get to touch it—the door suddenly swung open on its own.
Jasper walked in.
He stopped in the doorway, and everything in him went still. His eyes landed on Lynn first… then on Nina. His face hardened instantly.
The silence that followed pressed against the walls, thick and heavy. No one moved.
Lynn broke it first, her voice overly bright—as if she were trying to smooth over the awkwardness.
“Dad, I just dropped off your dinner. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
She cast a quick glance at Nina, checking—almost anxiously—that things were okay, then hurried past her father. She paused in the doorway, looked back for a second:
“Goodbye.”
The door closed behind her, and what remained inside the office was nothing but weighted, suffocating silence.
Scowling, Nina pushed herself up from his chair sharply.
“So Lynn works here?” Her voice was tense.
Jasper didn’t answer right away. For a moment he looked like he was deciding whether he should answer at all. When he did, his gaze was cool and distant.
“You’re not here to discuss where Lynn works,” he said flatly.
Nina nodded. She understood.
He’d made it clear long ago; she was to stay away from his daughter.
And she couldn’t blame him.
She looked away, walked to the water cooler, and filled a plastic cup. Her hand slipped into her purse, fingers closing around the familiar bottle of pills.
Seeing Lynn had knocked her off balance completely. Old wounds had ripped open again—old doubts, old guilt. She felt herself slipping back into that place where she still hated herself for being too weak all those years ago.
For abandoning her own flesh and blood.
She barely had time to pull the bottle out before it was yanked from her hand.
Nina jerked her head up.
Jasper stood too close. Much too close. His fingers brushed hers for a split second—the heat of his skin shot through her like an electric jolt. She flinched violently and stepped back.
“Give it back.” Her voice came out sharp.
A flash of déjà vu struck her like a knife.
Frank had done the same thing—grabbing her medication when she was at her most vulnerable.
Jasper didn’t return the bottle.
He studied the label instead, reading the name, the dosage. His jaw tightened. And then… he walked toward the trash can.
“Don’t you dare—!”
She lunged for him, but it was too late. He emptied the entire bottle into the trash. The white pills scattered and fell like sand. Nina stared, stunned, helpless, as the last pill dropped into the bin—followed by the empty bottle itself.
“What the hell are you doing?!” she nearly screamed. Rage and panic burned through her chest like fire.
Had he lost his mind?
Jasper turned to her—his eyes cold, narrowed.
“Who prescribed this crap to you?”
The question squeezed all the air out of the room.
Nina blinked rapidly, desperately trying to breathe. Her pulse hammered in her temples. Fear twisted sharply inside her, raw and humiliating.
“My doctor,” she forced out, her voice trembling despite her efforts.
His expression only darkened.
“Get a new doctor,” he said, voice edged with steel. “These pills are too strong for you. And they’re addictive.”
She shook her head in disbelief.
“What? I’ve been taking them for a long time, and I’m fine. They… they help.”
“You call that helping?”
He stepped toward her.
She shrank back instinctively until her spine touched the wall, trying to make herself smaller.
“You’ve been numbing stress with pills. That’s a dead end. Stop.”
She let out a shaky, broken laugh—one that wasn’t laughter at all.
“Stop?”
Her laugh came out sharp and bitter. Easy for him to say.
Or maybe she should remind him who was responsible for all of this.
His pupils widened; his gaze darkened. He let out a long breath, still standing far too close to her—closer than he had any right to be.
“I’m not just saying it,” he said, voice softening.
“In case you forgot, you’ve got an independent psychiatric evaluation in two days.
You need to pull yourself together or your husband’s gonna walk away without consequences.
And for the record, I do know what I’m talking about.
So listen to me—and stop taking that garbage. ”
Her fingers curled into fists. But she said nothing.
Because he was right.
And that only made it hurt more.
“How do you even know about the evaluation?” The question tore out of her, tight and cold, panic blooming under her ribs.
Jasper smirked—though he looked like he hadn’t meant to reveal that.
“I was the one who put you in touch with the right person. Of course I’m aware of everything.”
So he’d been watching her?
So all of this… had been under his control?
“I’ve got thirty minutes before my next surgery. Let’s eat and talk about whatever reason made you jump into my car so fearlessly,” he said in a level, almost casual tone. “Then we’ll go our separate ways. Preferably without meeting again.”
He walked to the desk, unfazed, and pulled out the takeout containers Lynn had brought. He set out disposable utensils, arranging everything neatly, as if they were just two colleagues who’d bumped into each other at lunchtime.
“You hungry?” he asked without looking up.
She shook her head. There was a knot in her throat. How could he even talk about food? About appetite? She could barely stay standing. Barely breathe.
“No. Thanks,” she whispered.
But Jasper didn’t seem to hear her. Or pretended not to. He opened the containers, letting the delicious smell drift through the office.
“Sit down and eat,” he said in a tone that allowed no argument.
She froze, staring at him, stunned. Was he mocking her? Did he think she’d come here to chat over salad?
“I said I’m not hungry,” she managed to push out.
He finally lifted his eyes to hers. Calm. Slightly ironic. As if she were a problem to be solved. A diagnosis waiting to be named.
“Eat. You look like you’re about to pass out.”
She frowned, trying to meet his gaze without flinching.
What was this sudden attack of concern?
“Jasper, I really don’t want to eat. Can we just talk?”
“No,” he cut her off, sharp as a scalpel. “You eat first. Then we talk.”
She hesitated for a few moments… but she knew she wouldn’t win this one.
So she sat down across from him.
The food smelled good, but her mouth was dry, her stomach a knot of emptiness and nausea at the same time.
Nina picked up the fork and poked at the salad. She rolled her eyes but lifted a small bite to her lips. Jasper watched her eat.
She wanted to take the fork and jab it straight into his eye.
Several minutes passed. The fork hit the bottom of the container, stabbing a piece of roasted potato. Nina put the food aside and wiped her mouth.
“I can’t eat anymore,” she said quietly.
Jasper leaned back, arms crossed, studying her.
“Can we talk now?” she asked, her patience ground down to dust.
He nodded slowly.
“Now we can.”