Page 59 of Crossing the Line
Carmen felt tears prick behind her eyes as she remembered Natalie's devastated expression. "The worst part is, she was right about everything. Ididcompromise my judgment and put Harper's career at risk and betray Natalie's trust."
"Did you?" Julia's question was sharp enough to cut through Carmen's reflections. "Let me ask you this—were Harper's evaluations based on her performance or your personal feelings?"
"Her performance, obviously. Harper is exceptional?—"
"Then where's the compromise? You evaluated her fairly despite having feelings for her. That sounds like professional integrity, not corruption."
Carmen blinked. "But the appearance of impropriety?—"
"Is not the same as actual impropriety." Julia leaned forward, her voice taking on the authority Carmen recognized from her police work. "Carmen, you've been so terrified of crossing ethical lines that you can't see the difference between appearance and reality."
"Professional ethics exist for good reasons," Carmen protested weakly.
"So does love," Julia shot back. "And sometimes they conflict. When that happens, you have to choose, but you've been choosing fear over everything else."
Carmen felt her defenses rising despite her emotional exhaustion. "It's not that simple?—"
"Isn't it?" Julia's challenge was direct. "What exactly do you think would happen if you told the hospital administration about your relationship with Harper? Not what you fear might happen, but what would actually happen."
Carmen opened her mouth to list the dire consequences, then stopped. She'd been so focused on worst-case scenarios that she'd never actually considered the realistic outcomes.
"Hospital policies allow for workplace relationships with proper disclosure," Julia continued. "Harper would need to be reassigned to avoid conflicts of interest, but that's already happening. Where's the career-ending disaster you're so afraid of?"
"People would talk. They'd question every evaluation I gave her?—"
"Let them talk. You know your work was fair. Harper knows it. That's what matters." Julia's voice softened slightly. "Carmen, when did you decide your career was worth more than your happiness?"
Carmen couldn't remember making that decision consciously, but somewhere along the way, professional safety had become more important than personal connection.
"After Claire," Carmen admitted quietly. "After she destroyed my trust and stole my work. I decided it was safer to keep my professional and personal lives completely separate."
"And how's that working out for you? This perfectly controlled, completely safe life you've built?"
Carmen looked around her immaculate townhouse—every surface clean, every object in its designated place, everything perfectly controlled and completely empty of meaning.
"It's not," she whispered. "It's not working at all."
"Then why are you fighting so hard to protect it?" Julia's question was gentle but relentless. "Carmen, you've been hiding from your life, not protecting it."
The words resonated with devastating accuracy. Carmen had spent years building walls to keep pain out, but she'd also kept out every possibility of genuine connection.
"Harper deserves someone willing to fight for her," Julia continued. "Not someone who'll hide with her in secret, but someone who'll stand up and say 'this matters, this is worth the risk.' Do you love her enough to be that person?"
Carmen closed her eyes, seeing Harper's face when she'd said "I love you too" with such fierce determination. Harper had been ready to fight for their relationship and face whatever consequences came with choosing her, and Carmen had responded by abandoning her at the first sign of real conflict.
"I've been such a coward," Carmen said.
"Yes, you have," Julia agreed without mercy. "But cowardice isn't a permanent condition. You can choose to be brave."
"What if it's too late? What if Harper can't forgive me for giving up on us?"
Julia smiled for the first time since arriving. "There's only one way to find out. But Carmen, if you're going to fight for her, you need to fight properly. No more hiding, no more half-measures. Harper deserves someone who's all in."
Carmen felt something shift in her chest—not hope exactly, but possibility. The recognition that she didn't have to accept the safe, empty life she'd built. That love might require risk, but some things were worth any risk.
"How do I do it?" Carmen asked. "How do I prove to her that I'm ready to choose love over fear?"
"You start by being honest," Julia said. "With the hospital, with Harper,andwith yourself. You stop making decisions based on what might go wrong and start making them based on what could go right."
