Page 35 of Crossing the Line
Carmen finally turned, and the look on Harper's face—hurt, confused, disappointed—nearly broke her resolve. But her fear was stronger than the longing, the need for control more powerful than the desire for connection.
"Yes," Carmen said, hating how the word sounded. "That's exactly what I'm going to do. And I suggest you do the same."
She opened the door and left Harper standing alone in the simulation lab, surrounded by the equipment that had brought them together and the echoes of confessions they could never take back.
But even as Carmen walked quickly down the hospital corridor, her professional mask firmly back in place, she could still feel the lingering warmth of Harper's fingers on her wrist and the weight of the choice she'd just made.
The choice to run from the best thing that had happened to her in years.
10
HARPER
Harper arrived at Café Luna fifteen minutes early, but her mother was already there, settled at a corner table with the kind of casual authority that came from being a regular. Natalie looked up from her phone as Harper approached, her smile bright with the particular warmth she reserved for moments when her professional and maternal pride aligned.
"There's my brilliant daughter," Natalie said, rising to embrace Harper with the easy affection that had always made Harper feel simultaneously cherished and suffocated. "You look tired. Long morning?"
Harper managed a smile as she settled into the chair across from her mother, grateful for the familiar ritual of lunch ordering to buy time while her emotions settled. The morning's simulation felt like it had happened in another lifetime—Harper's professional triumph, Carmen's admission of desire, and then the devastating retreat that left Harper standing alone with echoes of confessions that apparently meant nothing.
"Early start," Harper said, which was true enough. "Dr. Méndez had me in the simulation lab at six."
"Did she?" Natalie's eyebrows rose with obvious approval. "That's excellent, Harper. Carmen doesn't offer extra instruction lightly. She must see real potential in you."
The words should have filled Harper with pride. Instead, they felt like glass in her chest, sharp reminders of how little her mother knew about the morning's actual events. Carmen saw potential, all right—potential for disaster, potential for professional ruin, potential for destroying the careful boundaries that kept her world controlled and safe.
"The simulation was challenging," Harper said, focusing on her menu to avoid her mother's perceptive gaze. "Complex cardiac scenarios, equipment failures, multiple complications."
"And you handled them well, I'm sure." Natalie's voice carried the confidence of someone who'd never doubted Harper's abilities. "I've been telling Carmen for years that she needs to take on more mentoring responsibilities. She's brilliant, but she's been too guarded since..." Natalie paused, her expression shifting into something more protective.
Harper looked up from her menu, sensing an opportunity to understand the woman who'd just shattered her heart. "Since what?"
"The professional betrayal," Natalie said carefully. "Her former research partner stole techniques Carmen had developed, then published them as her original work. It was devastating—professionally and personally. They'd been involved romantically as well."
The information hit Harper like a physical blow. Carmen's careful control, her fear of crossing boundaries, her immediate retreat when emotions became too real—it all made terrible sense now. Harper wasn't just asking Carmen to risk her career; she was asking her to trust someone again after being destroyed.
"That's awful," Harper managed, her voice steadier than her suddenly racing heart. "No wonder she's so...careful about professional relationships."
"Exactly." Natalie leaned forward slightly, her voice taking on the protective tone she used when discussing people she cared about. "Carmen built walls after that experience. She's been focused entirely on her work, avoiding any situation that might compromise her professional standing. It's why I was so pleased to hear she's taken you under her wing. She needs to remember that not everyone will betray her trust."
Harper felt nausea rise in her throat. She wasn't someone who might betray Carmen's trust; she'd already done it. She'd lied about her identity, slept with Carmen under false pretenses, and now she was sitting across from Carmen's friend while her mother unknowingly explained why Carmen's morning retreat had been inevitable.
"She mentioned extra mentoring," Natalie continued, signaling the server for more coffee. "I think having a promising student to guide is good for her. Carmen needs to remember that she's more than just her research and what that woman took from her."
"You really care about her," Harper observed, trying to keep her voice neutral despite the growing weight in her chest.
"Of course I do. Carmen is..." Natalie paused, choosing her words carefully. "She's one of the most dedicated physicians I know. She deserves someone who appreciates her brilliance without trying to take credit for it. Someone who sees her value and doesn't exploit it."
Each word felt like an indictment. Harper was exactly the kind of person Natalie was warning against. She was someone who'd taken advantage of Carmen's rare moment of vulnerability, someone who'd complicated her carefully rebuiltprofessional life, and someone who couldn't even be honest about her own identity.
"She's lucky to have a friend like you," Harper said, the words tasting stale.
"We look out for each other in this profession," Natalie replied with a smile. "Especially the women. We have to support each other because no one else will." Her expression brightened. "Which reminds me…how are you settling into Phoenix Ridge? Meeting people, making connections? I know starting over in a new city can be isolating."
The shift in conversation should have felt like relief. Instead, Harper felt the familiar trap of her mother's loving concern, the way Natalie's questions always seemed designed to uncover exactly what Harper was trying to hide.
"It's been good," Harper said, the lie sliding out with practiced ease. "The apartment is perfect, close enough to walk to work. And everyone at the hospital has been welcoming."
"I hope you're not spending all your time studying," Natalie said, cutting into her salad with the efficient movements of someone accustomed to eating quickly between patients. "Phoenix Ridge has a wonderful community, especially for young professional women. Have you had a chance to explore the social scene?"
