Sienna

When Mia was wheeled back into her room, she looked pale and drained, her skin nearly translucent under the fluorescent lights. I stood near the foot of her bed, my heart pounding with the weight of what I had to say.

"How did it go?" she finally asked, her voice brittle with unease. Her trembling hands fidgeted with the edges of the hospital blanket, twisting it into tight, anxious knots. The motion mirrored the tension in the room.

I stepped forward, swallowing the unease clawing up my throat. The words I needed felt sharp and jagged in my mind, impossible to smooth out. "It wasn't..." I faltered, searching her face for strength that I couldn't find in myself. "It wasn't ideal."

Her expression shifted. "Sienna?" Her voice trembled as she spoke my name. "What's wrong? Am I—" her breath hitched, "am I going to die?"

"No, Mia," I said quickly, moving to her side. My mind scrambled for the right words, but nothing sounded right. Nothing could soften the blow. "You're not going to die. But there is a... hemorrhage in your pituitary gland."

Her brows furrowed in confusion. "What does that mean?"

I drew in a shaky breath. "It means..." I hesitated, "It means you're bleeding internally. And the only way to stop it is through surgery."

As soon as the word left my lips, Mia's face drained of what little color it had left. She stared at me, her eyes widening in confusion. "Surgery?" Her breathing turned rapid and shallow, and her fingers clenched the blanket on her lap so tightly that her knuckles went white. "I don't—I can't... No. No, no, no..."

"Mia," I said softly, crouching so she could see my face more clearly. "The surgery has a high success rate."

"No..." she repeated, shaking her head. "No, no..." The word became a mantra, and I could visibly see her panic building with each repetition.

"You'll be okay, Mia," I assured, taking her hands in mine. "You'll come through this. We'll take care of you."

But she wasn't hearing me. Her gaze turned distant and unfocused, as though her mind had retreated somewhere I couldn't reach.

"Mia—"

"No!" She suddenly screamed, ripping her hands away from mine.

I froze, startled.

"I can't do it!" she cried, shaking her head violently. "I can't go through that again!"

"Mia, listen—"

"They'll find me!" She screamed, twisting and writhing against the wheelchair. "They'll take him! They'll take my son again!"

"Listen to me," I pleaded, desperate to keep her grounded. "No one is going to take your son. I promise you. You're safe here."

But it was useless. She kept spiraling. "Get me out of here! Get me out of here now!" she lurched forward, rising from the wheelchair with a sudden burst of energy. "Get me out!"

Oh, God.

Instinct kicked in and I reached for her shoulders, holding her firmly. "Mia, stop! Please, you'll hurt yourself!"

"No!" She screeched, her voice raw with anguish. And then, before I could react, she swung her hand, slapping me so hard across the face that my head jerked to the side.

For a moment, everything blurred.

I stumbled back, reeling into the edge of the bed. Pain exploded across my cheek, my ears rang, and I could feel the metallic taste of blood on my lip. But I didn't have time to process the blow or the dizziness in my head because, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mia stumble toward the window.

Her movements were frantic, wild, as she clawed at the latch. "I have to get out!" she sobbed. "I can't stay here! I can't let them take him again!"

Panic shot through me like ice water. I scrambled to my feet, ignoring the throbbing in my head, and rushed to her side.

"Mia, stop!" I grabbed her arm, trying to pull her away from the window. "Please, listen to me! You're safe! No one's going to take your son away!"

But she twisted in my grasp, her strength fueled by raw, unfiltered hysteria. "Let me go!" she screamed, her voice hoarse and breaking.

"No!" I held tighter, my heart pounding in my ears. "Mia, please—you're going to hurt yourself!"

"I said let go!" She roared, shoving me roughly with both hands. The force of it knocked me backward, and I tried to catch myself but my feet tangled beneath me and I lost my balance, falling hard to the floor with a dull thud.

The door burst open with a crash at that moment, and two male nurses stormed in. One of them, his voice sharp and commanding, called out, "Mia! Step away from the window!"

Xavier rushed in shortly after, and I watched as he accessed the situation with wide eyes. When his eyes landed on me crumpled on the floor, they went even wider.

"Sienna!"

He appeared by my side in an instant, his presence so sudden it made my heart skip a beat. "What the hell happened?" His eyes scanned my face, assessing the damage. "Did she—"

"I'm fine," I said quickly, forcing myself to sit up straighter despite the ache in my back and the throbbing in my face. I didn't want him fussing over me. I didn't want him looking at me like that, like he still cared when it was clear he didn't.

"You're not," he countered firmly. His hand brushed my chin, tilting my face gently toward the light. The touch was careful and clinical, but it sent an unwelcome jolt through me. "She hit you hard. You're bleeding."

I flinched, pulling back. "I said I'm fine. Just—just focus on Mia."

His gaze flicked to Mia, now restrained but still thrashing and screaming, her voice raw with terror. The sight of her tore at me.

Without warning, Xavier's arms slid beneath me, and he lifted me effortlessly off the floor as if I weighed nothing at all.

I gasped. "Xavier, put me down!"

He didn't answer. His face was set in a stony mask as he carried me out of the room and down the hall.

His strides were quick and purposeful, and his hold was unyielding. When he finally pushed open the door to an empty room, he all but kicked it shut behind him before setting me down—not gently, but not rough enough to hurt, either.

I stumbled slightly, catching myself on the edge of the table. "What the hell is wrong with you?" I snapped, glaring up at him.

"No, what the hell is wrong with you?" he shot back, towering over me. His voice was low but brimming with barely restrained fury. "What were you thinking, Sienna? Throwing yourself at her like that? She could've seriously hurt you—or worse!"

Oh, woah.

"I wasn't throwing myself at her!" I said defensively, crossing my arms even as the motion sent a fresh wave of pain through my back. "I was trying to stop her before she—"

"And you didn't stop to think about yourself?" he snapped, his composure fraying. "Do you even realize how dangerous that was? She was out of control!"

"I know that!" I barked back, heat rising to my face, though whether it was from anger or embarrassment, I couldn't tell. "But what was I supposed to do? Just stand there while she hurt herself?!"

"You could've called for help!" he fired, throwing his hands up in the air. "But no—you had to throw yourself in the middle of it, like always!"

His words stung, but I refused to let it show. "Oh, I'm sorry," I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "I didn't realize I was such an inconvenience to you. Maybe if you weren't so busy being cold and distant, you'd understand what it means to actually care."

His jaw tightened, the muscles straining beneath his skin. "Don't," he growled.

"Don't what?" I challenged, stepping closer despite the weight of the tension between us. "Don't call you out? Don't tell you the truth? You've been ice-cold all day, Xavier. And this morning, when I tried to talk to you, you snapped at me like I was some nuisance! Like I didn't matter to you at all! So excuse me if I don't buy this whole 'concerned protector' act you're putting on." My chest heaved with frustration as I jabbed a finger at him. "You don't get to treat me like crap one minute and then act like you give a damn the next."

His hands curled into tight fists at his sides. "You think I don't care? You think I could ever stop caring about you?"

That edge in his tone cut through my own anger,  just enough to make me take a breath before I spoke again. "If you care so much, then why the hell did you treat me like that this morning? Why shut me out?"

He exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair, the gesture full of frustration and helplessness. "You wouldn't understand,"

"Then make me understand," I said, my tone softening but still desperate. "Because this... this isn't you. This isn't the Xavier I know."

He flinched like I'd struck him. "Well, the Xavier you know doesn't have his mother lying in a hospital bed, fighting for her life."

I froze, my breath catching in my throat.

His knuckles turned white. "The Xavier you know didn't get a call last night telling him his mother has been diagnosed with secondary liver cancer."

The air left my lungs in a rush. "Xavier..."

"The Xavier you know isn't..." His voice broke on the last words and his hands dragged through his hair again as he let out a sharp, fractured breath.

"Oh my God." My anger evaporated in an instant, replaced by a heavy ache in my chest. "I'm so sorry..."

He turned away, his jaw clenched so tightly it looked like it might shatter. "I thought I could handle it, put my emotions in check, but then this morning—" He stopped, his voice breaking. "I just— I lost it."

I reached out hesitantly, my hand brushing his arm. "Xavier..."

"I'm a surgeon, Sienna," he said bitterly, meeting my gaze. "I've dedicated my entire life to saving people, to fixing things... and now, with my own mother, there's nothing I can think of. Nothing I can do. I feel so—so useless."

To my shock, a single tear slid down his cheek, tracing the hard line of his jaw before falling away.

My chest tightened at the sight, and against my better judgment, I stepped closer, pulling him into a hug.

At first, he stood stiffly, as if fighting it. "I don't want to fall apart," he whispered, his voice raw and broken. "I don't want you to see me this way."

"I don't care," I murmured, tightening my arms around him. "You don't have to hold it together all the time. Not with me."

That was all it took. His defenses crumbled, and he sank into me, wrapping his arms tightly around my waist. The tears came, silent but fierce.

My heart ached for him.

I didn't say anything, just held him tighter, running my hand gently across his back.

When he finally pulled away, his face was flushed and his eyes were red-rimmed. Without thinking, I reached up, wiping away the tears that streaked his cheeks.

He closed his eyes to my touch, leaning into my hand.

"You're not alone, Xavier," I said softly, blinking back the heat in my eyes. "You don't have to go through this alone. I'll be here for you."

His eyes opened and his gaze locked onto mine, and in that moment, something in the air between us shifted.

Electricity crackled unlike never before, and it sent a shiver up my spine.

His hand moved to cup my cheek. "Do you really mean that?"

My lips parted to take in air. For a moment, everything else disappeared—our fight, Mia, even the fact that I'd sworn to keep my distance. There was only him, standing so close I could feel the warmth of his breath against my skin. "I do..."

His eyes held mine for a few more seconds before lowering to my lips and lingering there.

He leaned in.

My heart pounded.

"Sienna..."

My heart pounded faster.

His lips brushed mine, featherlight, at first, as if giving me every chance to pull away.

And I should've pulled away. I should've said no, set a boundary, created distance, anything to stop what was happening. But I didn't. I couldn't.

He kissed me.

Hungry and unapologetic, like he'd been waiting for this moment. And I leaned into him, eyes closed, letting the heat of his touch burn away every reason why this was wrong.

It shouldn't have felt like relief, but it did. It was a release from the aching loneliness that had been eating away at me for weeks. I'd been drowning in isolation, clinging to a version of the man I loved while feeling him slip further away. And here was Xavier, filling the hollow spaces I hadn't realized were so empty.

His hands gripped my hips as he lifted me effortlessly, setting me down on the edge of the table. The cold surface beneath me was a jarring contrast to the warmth of his body between my legs, but I didn't care. His touch grounded me, tethered me, made me feel seen in a way I hadn't in so long.

I pulled him closer, my fingers tangling in his hair, my knees tightening around his sides. His lips moved down my jaw, grazing the sensitive skin of my neck. He bit into it and I gasped, tilting my head back. I knew this was reckless, dangerous, something that could unravel everything, but I didn't care. Not in that moment.

Because at that moment, I wasn't Tristan's wife. I wasn't the exhausted, overworked pregnant nurse struggling to keep her life together. I was just a woman who had been aching for connection, for someone to make her feel alive again. And Xavier was giving me that.

But as quickly as the moment had consumed us, it shattered with the sharp swing of the door.

"Dr. Lee?"

The sound was like a bucket of ice water dumped over both of us. I jolted back, unwrapping my legs from his waist.

One of the male nurses poked his head in, looking concerned. "Dr. Lee? Is everything okay? I've been paging you."

Xavier straightened immediately. His eyes were wide, his chest heaving, his hands still on my thighs as though he couldn't bring himself to let go. He cleared his throat. "Yes. I'll be out in a moment."

The nurse nodded and left, closing the door behind him.

But the damage was done.

"Oh my God," I whispered, sliding off the table and putting as much distance between us as I could manage. My legs felt shaky, my heart hammering in my chest. "This... this was a mistake."

"Sienna—"

"No," I cut him off, shaking my head furiously. "This can't happen, Xavier. It shouldn't have happened."

His face fell. "You didn't seem to think so a minute ago."

"I do," I snapped, even as my voice cracked. "It was a mistake. I have to go." I tried to leave. I needed to leave. My legs carried me toward the door even as my heart screamed for something else entirely. But Xavier was faster.

His hand caught my wrist, firm but not harsh, and he spun me back to face him. "Don't," he demanded. "You don't kiss me like that and then run away."

"Let me go," I protested, tugging at his hold, but it was useless. His hand slid to my waist, pulling me toward him, and before I could push him away, his lips were on mine again.

I froze.

The first kiss had been a mistake. But this...

My hands clutched the front of his shirt to steady myself as his lips moved against mine with a maddening intensity.

The kiss was everything I shouldn't want, but it felt like the only thing I needed. It broke through the chaos in my head, silencing the questions, the guilt, the doubts. My resistance faltered almost instantly.

And then it was gone, dissolved like sugar in water.

When he finally pulled away, I was breathless.

"I can't keep pretending, Sienna."

His words made my heart stumble.

I looked up. "Xavier..."

"I care about you," he confessed, his voice hoarse. "More than I should. More than I've ever admitted, even to myself."

"Please..." I whispered, dreading where this was heading.

He kept going. "I thought I could stay away from you. I thought I could ignore it, but I can't. You're all I think about."

My voice trembled. "Please, stop,"

"You drive me insane, Sienna. I know you're with Tristan, and I know this—we—shouldn't happen. But I can't stop feeling this way. Every time I see you, I tell myself to let you go, to leave you alone. But I can't. I can't stop wanting you, Sienna."

No, no, no, no.

"Stop," I begged, shaking my head. "Please just stop,"

"You see me," he continued, his hands still on my waist, anchoring me in place. "Not just as some doctor or some colleague, but as me. No one else does that. No one else makes me feel..." He trailed off, his jaw tightening. "I'm in love with you, Sienna."

Oh, God.

His words hit me like a tidal wave, drowning me in emotions I didn't know how to process. My heart twisted painfully in my chest.

I couldn't take it anymore.

"Xavier, I'm pregnant."