Page 54 of Crossing the Line
"This morning." Natalie's words came out measured, controlled, the tone she used when delivering devastating diagnoses to patients. "This morning you were telling me about someone you're seeing. Someone who makes you glow."
Harper's chest constricted until breathing felt like drowning. "Mom, I can explain?—"
"Her name is Carmen." Natalie's eyes never left Harper's face, but her words felt like gut punches. "Isn't it? The woman you've been seeing. The one you said was brilliant and passionate about medicine. The one you said had been hurt before."
Each word fell into the office like stones into still water, creating ripples that would change everything. Harper watched her mother's face as understanding crystallized into something approaching betrayal.
"How long?" Natalie whispered, her professional composure beginning to crack around the edges.
Harper's mouth opened, but no sound came out. How could she explain that it had been weeks of careful secrecy? Thatshe'd been lying by omission every time they'd had lunch, every conversation about work, every question about her personal life?
"How long, Harper?" Natalie's voice carried the authority of someone accustomed to getting answers, even when those answers might destroy her.
"Since my first week," Harper managed, the confession feeling like pulling glass from her throat.
The admission hit Natalie like a tidal wave. Harper watched her mother's face go pale and saw the moment when parental concern transformed into professional outrage.
"Since your first week." Natalie repeated the words slowly, as if testing their weight. "You've been lying to me for weeks. Both of you."
15
CARMEN
Carmen finally found her voice, stepping away from the wall with visible effort. "Natalie, I know how this looks?—"
"Do you?" Natalie's gaze snapped to Carmen. "Because from where I'm standing, it looks like my closest friend and colleague has been sleeping with my daughter while pretending to be her professional mentor."
The crude description made Carmen's stomach clench with nausea. Reduced to its basic elements, stripped of emotion and context, their relationship sounded exactly as sordid as Carmen's worst fears had painted it. She felt her professional composure fracturing under the weight of Natalie's accusation.
"It's not like that," Harper said, finding strength in desperation. "We didn't plan this. It just happened?—"
"It just happened?" Natalie's voice rose for the first time, control giving way to fury. "Youaccidentallylied about your identity? Youaccidentallyseduced your supervisor? Which part was accidental, Harper?"
Carmen watched Harper flinch and saw her own failure reflected in Harper's wounded expression. She'd done this—created a situation where Harper had to defend their love likeit was something shameful. The woman who'd whispered "I love you too" against Carmen's lips just minutes ago now stood diminished by the ugly reality of their secrecy.
"I lied about who I was because I wanted one night where someone might choose me for myself, not because I'm your daughter," Harper said, her voice gaining strength despite the tears threatening behind her eyes. "And yes, I fell in love with her. That wasn't planned, but I don't regret it."
"Love?" Natalie's laugh was sharp, and Carmen felt each syllable cut deep. "You think this is love? Harper, you're twenty-six years old. You've been in Phoenix Ridge for three weeks. You don't know the difference between infatuation and love."
The dismissal sent rage through Carmen's chest, protective instinct overriding her paralysis. "Don't," she said. "Don't minimize what she feels. Harper's feelings are?—"
"What shefeels?" Natalie turned the full force of her fury on her, and Carmen felt herself shrinking under the disappointed gaze of someone whose respect she'd valued for years. "And you? What's your excuse, Carmen? She's my daughter. She's barely older than some of our medical students. She's in your careprofessionally."
Carmen's throat constricted as she tried to find words that could explain the inexplicable—how Harper had become essential to her breathing, how their connection transcended every rational boundary she'd tried to maintain.
"I know," Carmen whispered, her professional authority dissolving completely. "I know how wrong this looks and inappropriate it is. I tried to fight it?—"
"You're supposed to be the professional adult here. Instead, you've been taking advantage of a young woman who's obviously infatuated with your authority." Natalie's voice carried disbelief that made Carmen's chest burn with shame.
"That's not what this is," Harper protested, stepping forward despite the way Natalie's gaze could have drawn blood. Carmen felt a surge of love watching Harper defend them, even as her own world crumbled. "Carmen didn't take advantage of anything.Ipursued her.Imade the first move.Iwas the one who lied and created this situation."
"Oh, Harper." Natalie's voice broke slightly, and Carmen saw the exact moment when outrage gave way to heartache. "You can't possibly understand the power dynamics at play here. Carmen is your supervisor. She controls your evaluations and future in this program. How can you not see how compromised your judgment is?"
The words felt like being dissected alive. Carmen understood Natalie's concerns and saw exactly how their relationship looked from the outside, how every professional boundary she'd spent her career respecting had been obliterated by her need for Harper's touch.
"My judgment isn't compromised," Harper said quietly, and Carmen marveled at her composure in the face of such a devastating attack. "My feelings are real. What we have together is real. And I won't apologize for loving someone who sees me as more than just another intern to evaluate."
Natalie stared at Harper for a long moment, and Carmen watched something die in her friend's eyes. Trust, perhaps. Or the comfortable assumption that Harper was still the obedient daughter who valued her approval above everything else.
