Page 3 of Crossing the Line
Carmen gave her the abbreviated version: new approaches to minimally invasive cardiac repair, improved recovery times, and reduced surgical trauma. They were the technical details that usually made people's eyes glaze over, but Julia had beenlistening to Carmen talk shop for years. She nodded in the right places and asked intelligent questions about patient outcomes.
"Sounds groundbreaking," Julia said when Carmen finished. "The kind of thing that gets published in major journals."
"That's the plan."
"Under your name only this time."
Carmen's wine glass paused halfway to her lips. "Obviously."
"Good." Julia's voice carried an edge that suggested she had opinions about Carmen's former research partner. "That woman never deserved to share credit for your work."
They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, watching the harbor through the window. A fog bank was building on the horizon, and Carmen could see the lighthouse beam sweeping across the water in slow, hypnotic circles.
Lavender appeared with fresh wine glasses, replacing their empties. Carmen usually stopped at one glass—control was important, especially in public—but tonight felt different. The wine was good, and the knot in her shoulders was loosening even more.
"What about you?" Carmen asked, deflecting attention from her own carefully controlled life. "Any interesting cases lately?"
Julia's expression shifted into what Carmen recognized as her professional mode. "Had a domestic violence situation last week that turned into a hostage situation, and it tooksix hoursto talk him down."
"Everyone okay?"
"She's in a safe house now. Kids too. He's in county lockup pending trial." Julia swirled her wine, watching the liquid catch the light. "Sometimes I think Diana's community policing approach is too soft, but then I see situations like that and realize how much trust it takes for someone to call us instead of just running."
Carmen nodded. She'd seen enough women in her ER to understand the complexity of domestic violence cases. "Trust is hard to build."
"Harder to rebuild once it's broken."
The words hung between them, and Carmen knew they weren't just talking about police work anymore. Julia had been her friend through the entire disaster with her research partner, the professional betrayal that had bled into personal humiliation when Carmen discovered the affair happening literally behind her back.
"I'm fine, Julia."
"No, you're not." Julia leaned forward, her voice gentle but insistent. "You're surviving. There's a difference."
Carmen took another sip of wine, buying time. The alcohol was making her walls feel less necessary, which was dangerous. "I don't know what you want me to say."
"I want you to admit that hiding in your townhouse and talking only to patients isn't actually living."
"It's safer."
"Safer than what? Letting someone get close enough to hurt you again?"
The question hit too close to home. Carmen stared out at the harbor, watching the fog creep closer to shore. "I don't need another lecture about putting myself out there."
"I'm not lecturing. I'm worried about my friend who used to laugh and go dancing and actually enjoy herself occasionally."
Carmen couldn't remember the last time she'd laughed at something that wasn't dark medical humor. The realization sat heavy in her chest, another item on the growing list of things she'd lost without realizing it.
"I'm tired, Julia." The admission slipped out before she could stop it. "I'm tired of being alone, but I don't know how to be anything else anymore."
Julia reached across the table and squeezed her hand. "That's the first honest thing you've said all night."
Carmen didn't pull away. The contact felt foreign but not unwelcome, a reminder that human connection didn't always end in betrayal. Sometimes it was just a friend holding your hand while you admitted you'd forgotten how to trust anyone, including yourself.
The moment stretched between them, Julia's hand warm and solid over hers. Carmen appreciated the contact, but the café was getting warmer as the evening progressed, and the conversation had drifted into territory that required more emotional bandwidth than she'd budgeted for tonight.
"I'm going to get some fresh air," she said, gently extracting her hand and standing to smooth down her silk blouse.
Julia nodded with understanding. "I'll hold down the fort. Maybe chat up that cute nurse from pediatrics who's been making eyes at me all evening."
