Page 62 of Dr. Roz Harrington
“That’s not true,” Roz snapped, though her voice wavered slightly at the end.
“Isn’t it?” Olivia pushed, undeterred. “You always keep everyone at arm’s length. You bury yourself in surgeries and perfection because it’s safe. It’s what you know. But Sam isn’tlike that. She’s not something you can schedule or fix, and that scares the hell out of you.”
Roz flinched, the words cutting too close. She turned away, needing space, but Olivia wasn’t finished.
“You let Mom decide everything for you, Roz,” Olivia continued, quieter now. “Your career, your reputation, hell, even the way you live. You’re still chasing her approval, and you don’t even realize it.”
Roz spun back to face her sister, anger flaring. “This isn’t about Mom!”
“It’s always about Mom!” Olivia shot back, her voice rising as her patience frayed. “Everything you do is to prove her wrong. But it’s like you don’t even know what you’re proving anymore. You’re just trying not to screw up. You’re so afraid of failure that you’re throwing away the best thing that’s ever happened to you.”
Roz froze, her chest heaving, every word landing like a punch. She couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. Olivia had seen right through her walls, through the lies Roz had been telling herself for days. Foryears.
The room went silent except for Roz’s unsteady breathing. Olivia stepped forward, her voice softer now, coaxing Roz into the truth she’d been avoiding.
“Roz…” Olivia’s tone held a gentleness that disarmed her completely. “You care about Sam, don’t you?”
Roz looked away, her voice barely a whisper. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It matters,” Olivia said firmly. “It matters because she’sdifferent,and you know it. Don’t lie to yourself.”
Roz’s throat tightened as she shook her head. “What if I can’t be what she deserves, Liv? What if I mess it up, and she realizes I’m not worth it?”
The words slipped out before Roz could stop them, her voice cracking with a vulnerability she hadn’t meant to reveal. It felt like a betrayal, her walls crumbling under Olivia’s relentless push.
Olivia’s expression softened, her eyes filled with something close to heartbreak. “Oh, Roz…” She stepped closer, placing a hand on Roz’s arm. “You really think that, don’t you?”
Roz’s jaw tensed, but she couldn’t meet Olivia’s gaze. “I’m not…like you,” she admitted quietly. “I don’t believe in fairy tales, Liv. People leave. They always leave.”
Olivia’s grip tightened, her voice unwavering. “Not everyone leaves, Roz. Not if you give them a reason to stay.”
Roz looked at her sister finally, her eyes wet and angry. “You don’t get it. I can’t lose her, Liv. If I mess this up, if sheseesme, all of me, and decides I’m not enough, it’ll destroy me.”
For a moment, Olivia said nothing, just looked at her sister like she was seeing her for the first time. Then, her voice dropped to a whisper.
“You’re not Mom, Roz.”
The words hung in the air, simple but earth-shattering. Roz blinked, startled, but Olivia didn’t stop.
“You don’t have to hide behind her rules or expectations. Sam’s not asking for perfection. She just wantsyou.” Olivia paused, tilting her head. “And I think you want her just as much. So what are you afraid of?”
Roz couldn’t answer. She felt stripped bare, every defense shattered as Olivia’s words echoed through her.
Roz swallowed hard, the knot in her chest making it difficult to breathe. Olivia watched her for a long moment, letting her words settle. Finally, she grabbed her coat from the couch and moved toward the door.
At the threshold, Olivia paused, looking back at her sister.
“For the record,” she added softly, “I think she’s worth it. And I think you know that already.”
Roz stood rooted to the spot as the door clicked shut.
The apartment felt heavier than before, the silence stretching out like an ocean she couldn’t cross. Olivia’s words rang in her ears, clashing with her mother’s voice in a battle Roz couldn’t reconcile.
Roz sank onto the couch, her hands shaking, her eyes stinging. For once, she couldn’t hide behind work, logic, or the careful mask she’d spent years perfecting.
And for the first time in her life, Roz Harrington felt completely, utterly lost.
Roz’s apartment, usually a sanctuary of control and solitude, now felt like a prison. The walls seemed smaller, the air thicker, and for the first time, Roz didn’t know how to fill the silence. Her gaze flicked toward the stack of unfinished paperwork on her coffee table, then to her laptop sitting half-open on the counter, tools she’d once used to drown herself in focus.
