"Oh, Vivienne!" Noah called out in a sing-song voice.
I shot him a glare in response.
It had been weeks since that night. Just as I expected, by the next morning, Lucas and I acted like nothing happened. When it came to work, he remained professional—but only in the barest sense. One question, one answer, and then nothing. If he was distant before, now it was worse.
There were moments when we crossed paths in the hallway. Sometimes, I considered greeting him, just out of respect for his position, but I always hesitated. It was as if I didn’t exist in his world anymore. That hurt. Especially when I saw how easily he seemed to move on, as if nothing had ever happened between us.
I couldn’t blame him. This was my fault, after all.
I tried to bury the pain by focusing on my review. I made up for lost time, pushing myself harder. Sometimes, Noah and I had study sessions together, but it felt different. The way Lucas used to guide me, the way he explained things—it had always been unique to him. And remembering that felt like a blade twisting deeper into my chest.
My morning schedule had finally been fixed, while Elise remained on the night shift. That meant Noah had free rein to drop by the nurse's station where I was assigned. Yes, I had been transferred—Dr. Clara was now in charge of me. The new station wasn’t far from my previous one; I could still see it from where I was.
Lucas’s schedule, on the other hand, was unpredictable. Sometimes he worked mornings, sometimes nights.
“Where do you want to eat?” Noah asked cheerfully.
“Anywhere but the hospital cafeteria. I’m sick of it.”
“The coffee shop, then? I heard they have new pastries.”
Just as I was about to answer, I caught sight of Lucas walking toward us. He was in his scrubs with a white coat draped over them, his expression unreadable, his focus straight ahead—nowhere near me.
But what caught my attention was the woman walking beside him. She was also in scrubs, petite yet well-proportioned, with warm, tan skin and striking Asian features. She barely reached Lucas’s shoulder, yet there was something about her presence—strong, composed, and commanding, almost like Dr. Clara.
Intimidating.
I frowned.
“Noah,” I murmured, nudging him slightly. “Do you know who she is?”
He followed my gaze and let out a small ‘ahh’ of recognition. “That’s Dra. Ivy. She’s from one of the overseas branches. From what I heard, Dr. Tuarez requested her for a second opinion. There’s a new case—worse than Sophie’s—so they flew her in to consult.”
Oh.
Noah continued speaking, but his voice faded into the background. My focus remained on Lucas and Dra. Ivy as they walked past us.
Lucas didn’t even spare me a glance. Not that I expected him to, but it still stung.
Dra. Ivy, on the other hand, looked sharp and composed. The way she carried herself exuded confidence—an air of authority that made it clear she knew exactly what she was doing. She wasn’t just some visiting doctor; she belonged here.
I swallowed down the uncomfortable tightness in my chest.
Why did it bother me?
“I heard she’s a specialist,” Noah added, bringing me back to the conversation. “Highly skilled, a big name in her field. Lucas must really trust her judgment if he asked for her help.”
“Yeah,” I muttered, suddenly losing my appetite.
Was this why Lucas had been so busy lately? Why his schedule had been erratic? Why he hadn’t—
I cut off the thought before it could form completely. It wasn’t my place to ask those questions anymore.
“Vivienne?” Noah nudged me. “You good?”
I forced a small smile. “Yeah. Let’s just get out of here.”
“Coffee shop?”
“Yeah.”
We started walking, but I couldn’t resist glancing over my shoulder one last time.
Lucas and Dra. Ivy had stopped at the nurse’s station. She was speaking to him, her expression unreadable, and then—she smiled. Not just a polite smile. It was small, subtle, but warm.
And then, to my surprise, Lucas smiled back.
It wasn’t the wide, teasing grin he used to throw my way, but it was still there—a flicker of something softer beneath his usual sternness.
I looked away, my chest tightening.
It didn’t matter.
It shouldn’t matter.
But somehow, it did.
I kept my head down as we walked out of the hospital, my grip tightening around the strap of my bag. The usual buzz of conversation and footsteps in the hall faded into white noise, drowned out by the thoughts I was trying so hard to suppress.
Lucas smiled.
It was a small thing, barely noticeable to anyone else. But to me, it felt like something sharp lodging itself in my chest.
I shouldn’t be reacting this way. I was the one who walked away. I made my choice.
So why did it feel like I was the one being left behind?
Noah opened the door of the coffee shop for me, and I stepped inside, welcoming the warmth and the familiar scent of roasted beans. It was quieter than usual, the late afternoon lull keeping most of the seats empty.
We ordered, and while waiting, Noah leaned against the counter, watching me carefully.
“You’ve been spacing out since we left,” he said, his voice casual but laced with concern. “Are you really okay?”
I inhaled deeply, forcing a smile. “Yeah. Just tired.”
Noah didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t push. Instead, he grabbed our drinks when they were ready and led us to our usual spot by the window.
The first sip of coffee should have been comforting, but all I could think about was how Lucas used to sit across from me, teasing me about how much sugar I added to my drink.
How he used to order an extra pastry even when I told him I wasn’t hungry—because he knew I’d end up taking a bite anyway.
How he used to—
Stop.
I clenched my jaw, shoving the memories back where they belonged.
“He seems to be doing well,” Noah said after a moment, his eyes flickering toward me.
I knew exactly who he was talking about.
“Yeah,” I replied, staring into my coffee. “He does.”
Noah exhaled softly, drumming his fingers on the table. “Do you regret it?”
My stomach twisted at the question.
Did I?
I thought I knew the answer, but now, sitting here, with the weight of everything pressing down on me, I wasn’t so sure.
I stared at the swirling foam in my cup, tracing random patterns with my spoon as if that would somehow help me sort through the mess in my head.
Regret.
It was a heavy word. One that clung to my skin, wrapped around my ribs, and made it hard to breathe.
Did I regret it?
If I said yes, then what?
Lucas wasn’t the type to wait around. I knew that about him. He moved forward, always. That was what made him who he was. If I looked back now, if I reached out, I wasn’t sure if I’d find him still standing there.
And I wasn’t sure if I deserved to.
“No,” I finally answered, my voice quieter than I intended. “I don’t.”
Noah didn’t call me out on the hesitation in my tone, but the way his fingers curled around his cup told me he heard it.
“Okay,” he said, nodding slowly. “If that’s what you want.”
I forced a small smile. “It is.”
I wanted to believe that.
But the truth was, I had spent the last few weeks trying to convince myself that walking away was the right thing to do. That Lucas and I were never meant to work out. That loving him wasn’t enough to bridge the gap between us.
Then why did it still hurt this much?
I pressed my lips together, willing the thoughts away.
“What about you?” I asked, needing to shift the focus. “How’s Elise? You two seem… closer these days.”
Noah blinked, caught off guard by the sudden change in topic. Then, his lips twitched into a grin. “Ah, so now you’re interested in my love life?”
I rolled my eyes. “Just answer the question.”
His grin widened, but he leaned back in his chair, considering. “We’re good. She’s been busy with night shifts, but we make it work.”
“That’s nice,” I murmured, feeling a strange pang in my chest.
Maybe I was just envious—of how easily other people seemed to navigate love, how natural it was for them to find their way to each other.
Maybe it was just exhaustion creeping up on me.
Or maybe, I was just trying too damn hard to ignore the fact that, no matter how much I tried to convince myself otherwise—
I missed him.
And I didn’t know how to stop.
Noah studied me for a moment, his gaze sharp despite the easygoing smile on his lips. He wasn’t fooled. He never was.
"Viv," he started, but whatever he was about to say was cut off when his phone buzzed on the table. He glanced at the screen, his expression shifting into something unreadable before he sighed and pocketed the device.
I arched a brow. "Who was that?"
"No one important." He pushed his cup aside and leaned forward, arms resting on the table. "Look, I’m not gonna lecture you. But you know you don’t have to do this, right?"
I stiffened. "Do what?"
"Pretend like you’re fine when you’re not."
I let out a soft laugh, but it lacked any real amusement. "I don’t know what you’re talking about."
Noah just shook his head, clearly unconvinced, but he didn’t press the issue. Instead, he drummed his fingers against the table before nodding toward the door. "Come on, I’ll walk you back."
I hesitated, staring down at my now-cold coffee. The last thing I wanted was to return to an empty apartment, where silence would press in on me and force me to acknowledge everything I was trying to ignore.
Still, I nodded. "Yeah. Okay."
We stood, gathering our things, but just as I reached for my coat, the café door swung open, letting in a gust of cool air.
And him.
Lucas.
I froze.
He hadn’t seen me yet. He was speaking to someone—Dra. Ivy, I realized—but my gaze locked onto him, unable to look away. He looked… the same. But different. Like the weeks apart had barely touched him, while I felt like I had unraveled in ways I didn’t know how to fix.
Noah followed my line of sight and let out a low curse under his breath. "Well. That’s awkward."
Lucas turned then, as if sensing my stare, and for the first time in weeks, our eyes met.
I forgot how to breathe.
His expression was unreadable—calm, composed—but there was something in his gaze, something I couldn’t decipher, that made my pulse stutter.
Then, without breaking eye contact, he stepped further into the café.
And walked straight toward me.
A lump formed in my throat as he walked past me without a second glance.