Page 37

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

"My mom offered to come with me, but as much as I wanted her to, I couldn’t accept it. I’m no longer the girl he once knew—I’m a woman, a mother—and I’m not going to hand over my problems to someone else, not even to the woman who gave me life."

That was the speech I kept repeating to myself the entire way to the imposing hospital in Manhattan.

I arrived much earlier than necessary. The appointment was scheduled for eleven thirty, but the plane landed at eight, giving me time to walk around and kill time.

As I strolled through Central Park, I avoided thinking about the person waiting for me in just a few hours.

Instead, I focused on how strange life can be. I keep a journal of plans, where I wrote down things I wanted to do. One of them was visiting Manhattan—I’d only ever seen the island on TV.

As a teenager, I used to picture myself riding through Central Park in a carriage, telling myself I’d take dozens of pictures. But of course, back then, it was all just a dream. There was no money for something like that.

Then everything turned upside down with my mom’s arrest and my pregnancy.

It was time to face reality. Dreams had to be shelved.

Despite all the pain LJ caused me, I cherished every second of my pregnancy, promising myself that my child would be so loved by me he’d never feel the absence of his father.

I worked hard, dedicating myself to my show almost up until labor, and only after receiving my diagnosis did I realize the danger I’d been in. My condition doesn’t prevent pregnancy, but I could have died at any moment simply from not having been diagnosed.

But God was watching and He protected both of us. Everything went smoothly, and even with a virtually broken heart, I could still see a future.

I was the mother of a beautiful boy, I had more money in my bank account than I ever thought possible in such a short time . . . I could finally live.

But I didn’t. Instead, I settled. Yes, I gave my son the best. We went to the beach, to parks, but never left the safety of Cape Cod.

It took the harsh wake-up call of a diagnosis to realize how deeply the pain caused by LJ had changed me.

He changed me—and not just because he took my virginity or lied to me. The bitterness he left in me dulled my dreams. I got stuck in a void of pain where I no longer believed in happiness beyond the presence of my family.

I walk into the hospital, even though it’s the last place I want to be. But maybe it’s exactly what I need. Not just because I need him as a doctor, but to finally bury the past for good and move on.

However, the moment the receptionist directs me to the top floor, where his office is located, I have to take a deep breath to calm my pulse.

Lazarus

I could hardly believe it when Athanasios walked into my office and told me he had just spoken to Alexis’s mother. But the shock of the unexpected contact was nothing compared to what he said next: my ex-girlfriend needed surgery—and I was the one who had to perform it.

I had imagined our reunion a million times, long before Morrison told me what he remembered the other day. I never let myself get close to her, but I also never truly let go.

Every week, I watched her true crime episodes on YouTube—when, before meeting her, I could count on one hand the number of times I had ever used that platform.

I’m not ashamed to admit that I found out the name of her channel by slipping in a few discreet questions to Matheus. Alexis never shows her face. She’s just a voice—narrating videos that feel more like short films, recreating the events with eerie clarity.

I followed her growing audience. I got addicted to hearing her speak. I couldn’t tell how many times I rewatched the same video. Knowing she was okay, that she had moved on, that her mother was by her side—that had to be enough to quiet the need I felt to go after her.

Not once in a million years did I imagine her life might be at risk.

The moment my partner left the office, I called her mother. We spoke for nearly thirty minutes, and she explained Alexis’s condition.

The man in me gave way to the surgeon. The ex-lover gave way to the protector.

I would help her. Heal her. Save her. Maybe that way I could balance out the guilt of never going to see her face-to-face. Because after what Morrison told me, I realized that no matter what her stepfather had asked of me, I should have gone to her—if only to bring closure to what we had started.

The truth is, I always knew Alexis didn’t belong in my world.

From the moment we met, I knew she would be the chaos in my carefully structured life.

She didn’t give a damn about who I might be—even before she knew my real name.

When I told her I was a heart surgeon, she didn’t ask for details. She didn’t care about my family. She cared about me.

What we had was chaotic and uncontrollable—I could see it in the few days we spent together. And I don’t crave external chaos. It already exists inside me. It always has, long before the tragedies that hit my family.

I kept that part of me buried, hidden beneath a flawless facade. But during those few days with Alexis, it surfaced—raw and unfiltered.

The passion she awakened in me wasn’t welcome. The hunger I felt for her was untamable in its intensity, and I wanted to control it. I would’ve tried—I’m honest enough to admit that. If we had stayed together, I would’ve tried to manage it.

And I would have broken her. Because that’s what I do: I ruin beautiful things, just like I ruined Jodie. Morrison said she was unbalanced at the time of the accident, and I believe him—but who brought that madness to the surface? Before me, she lived a quiet life.

So what my cousin told me changed nothing.

That weekend with Alexis was the best of my life. If I didn’t go after her afterward, it was because I wanted to set her free from me.

The door to my office opens just seconds after my assistant announces her arrival.

And once again, through an unexpected meeting, our paths cross.

Alexis is stepping back into my life, and I know I’m the worst possible choice for someone like her—but this time, I’m not sure I’ll be able to let her go again.