Page 58 of Crossing the Line
"You didn't answer my text," Julia said without preamble. "And word travels fast in a hospital. Can I come in?"
Carmen stepped aside without speaking, her composure already beginning to crack under the weight of Julia's genuine concern. The living room felt different with another person in it, less like a tomb and more like a space where actual human connection might be possible.
"You look terrible," Julia observed, settling onto the couch with easy familiarity. "When's the last time you ate anything?"
Carmen couldn't remember. Food had become an abstract concept sometime around the moment Harper had walked out of her office for the final time. "I'm fine."
"No, you're not." Julia's police training made her impossible to lie to, especially when Carmen's defenses were already in shambles. "Talk to me. What happened?"
Carmen opened her mouth to deflect, to offer some sanitized version of events that would preserve her dignity and avoid the messy reality of what she'd lost. Instead, what came out was a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob.
"I ruined everything," Carmen whispered, the words scraping her throat raw. "I had something real, something that made me feel alive for the first time in years, and I threw it away because I was too afraid to take a risk."
Julia's expression shifted into the focused attention Carmen remembered from their most serious conversations. "Are we talking about Harper Langston?"
Carmen's head snapped up, surprise cutting through her emotional haze. "How did you?—"
"Carmen, I'm a cop. I notice things. Plus, half the hospital is gossiping about some kind of confrontation between you, Harper, and Dr. Langston." Julia's voice remained gentle despite her directness. "I also saw how you looked at her during thattrauma response last week. Like she was the most important thing in the room."
The observation knocked her off balance. She'd thought she'd been so careful and professional in her interactions with Harper. But apparently her feelings had been written across her face for anyone with eyes to see.
"It's over," Carmen said, her voice barely audible. "I ended it tonight. Submitted her reassignment request and told her there was no future for us professionally or personally."
"And how do you feel about that decision?"
Carmen looked at Julia's patient face, seeing no judgment there, only genuine concern for her wellbeing. The kindness in her friend's expression was almost unbearable after hours of self-recrimination.
"Like I just cut out my own heart to save my reputation," Carmen admitted, the honesty bleeding out of her like a wound she'd been trying to ignore. "Like I've been so busy following rules that I forgot why I wanted anything worth protecting in the first place."
Julia leaned forward, her presence solid and anchoring in Carmen's dissolving world. "Then maybe it's time to figure out what actually matters to you. Because from where I'm sitting, watching you destroy yourself to maintain professional boundaries doesn't look like protecting anything worth having."
Julia opened the wine she'd brought and poured two glasses with the efficient movements of someone who'd navigated countless difficult conversations. She handed one to Carmen, then settled back onto the couch with the patience of someone prepared to stay as long as necessary.
"Start from the beginning," Julia said. "And don't give me the pretty version. I want the truth."
Carmen took a sip of wine, surprised to find it actually had flavor. The familiar ritual of sharing wine with her closestfriend created a pocket of safety in her emotional storm, making honesty feel possible for the first time in hours.
"We met at Lavender's," Carmen began, her voice steady despite the chaos in her chest. "The night before her first day. She lied about her name, her age, everything. I didn't know she was Natalie's daughter until I saw her in the surgical prep area the next morning."
"Jesus." Julia's eyebrows rose. "That must have been a shock."
"Devastating. I tried to get her transferred immediately, but Natalie denied the request. She didn't know why I was asking." Carmen stared into her wine glass, watching the light refract through the burgundy liquid. "So I was stuck supervising the woman I'd just slept with, trying to pretend it had never happened."
"How'd that work out?"
Carmen laughed. "About as well as you'd expect. The attraction and chemistry were still there. We kept getting thrown together for cases, and every time she looked at me..." Carmen trailed off, remembering the way Harper's eyes had seemed to see straight through her professional facade.
"You fell in love with her," Julia said. It wasn't a question.
"Completely. Stupidly. Against every rational thought in my head." Carmen's voice cracked slightly. "She's brilliant, Julia. Not just intelligent, but genuinely gifted at cardiac surgery. She thinks about procedures the way I do, sees the same beauty in the work. And when she looked at me, it wasn't as Dr. Carmen Méndez, respected surgeon. It was just...me."
Julia nodded, her expression encouraging Carmen to continue.
"We tried to keep it professional, but we kept crossing lines. Secret meetings, stolen moments. Tonight we were in my office and things got...heated. Natalie walked in on us."
"Ah." Julia's understanding was immediate. "And she didn't take it well."
"She was furious. At both of us, but especially at me. Said I was taking advantage of Harper, that I'd compromised my professional judgment, and that Harper's reputation would be permanently tainted by the assumption that she'd slept her way into good evaluations."
