“I didn’t really get a choice in that matter, did I? I’m on my own and I WILL do it on my own. I’m not a child; I’m a grown woman. Whether or not I can handle this is of no concern to you.”

Vivien sighed and leaned back in her chair. “No good can come from this, Olivia. You are a single woman, with no family to speak of. I realize that, in this day and age, no one bats an eye when some foolish woman gets pregnant out of wedlock and sponges off of taxpayers’ money to raise their bastard children. But we aren’t talking about just anyone. The child you’re carrying is a Vargas. A child conceived without any thought to the ramifications of what this would do to our family name. I can’t have you walking around, flaunting your situation in the faces of my staff. I will not allow anything to ruin the legacy Charles and I have created.”

I’m so shocked and appalled by her words that I can’t speak. Of all the things that I thought would come out of this woman’s mouth today, this most certainly wasn’t one of them.

“There’s an envelope inside that folder. You will take what’s inside and I trust you will do the right thing to resolve this situation you’ve gotten yourself in. Obviously, it’s a more than adequate amount, so feel free to use the remainder as you see fit. Maybe a vacation would be a good way for you to start fresh. I know you enjoy the job we’ve allowed you to keep for the last few years and I would hate to have to let you go or add any disparaging remarks to your personnel file that would prohibit you from ever practicing as a nurse again.”

“Are you threatening me?” I whispered, finally finding my voice.

“It’s not a threat, my dear. It’s the truth. Take the envelope, fix the problem.”

I jolt awake in bed with a gasp. It takes me a few moments to calm my racing heart and realize I’m alone in my room and not sitting across from Vivien in her office all those months ago. Realizing I’ll never be able to fall back asleep after that trip down memory lane, I slide out of bed and head across the hall to the other bedroom. The door to this room is always closed. I never open it and I never go inside. Every time I walk past this door to go to my bedroom or into the bathroom, I pretend that what lies on the other side doesn’t really exist, that this is just another empty room in the house. I can’t pretend anymore. The reappearance of Cole in my life is going to make me face my mistakes and my nightmares head-on. I’ve been so focused on finding out Cole’s secrets that I’ve allowed myself to forget that it’s a two-way street. If I want him to open up to me, I’m going to have to do the same. I’ll have to tell him about what lies behind this closed door and how my actions led to this room sitting here empty and unused.

With a shaking hand, I turn the knob and push the door open. I hold my breath and swallow past the lump that forms in my throat as soon as I see the shadow of the crib sitting against the wall beside the window. There’s just enough moonlight streaming through the window that I don’t bother turning on the lamp on the table next to it. Even if it were pitch dark in here, I wouldn’t need the light, anyway. The location of every single item in this room is burned into my brain. I walk right up to the crib and rest my hands on the smooth wood finish of the top rail, staring at the frame hanging on the wall over the bed.

When I left Vivien’s office that day, I waited until I got home to tear open the envelope she stuck behind the lab paperwork in the folder. I wanted to rip what was inside into tiny little pieces and mail it back to her, to light it on fire as I screamed in anger and frustration. Parker convinced me to frame it and hang it in the room as a reminder that I was strong and wouldn’t let anyone walk all over me. My fears over losing my job and never being able to do what I love again and raising a child on my own grew and festered until every breath I took threatened to choke me. I knew I could do it on my own, but I didn’t want to. I wanted the man I loved to be there with me, telling me everything would be okay, but that would never happen. Even though I had Parker and Garrett’s support, it wasn’t enough. They had their own lives to lead, their own child to raise, and at the end of the day, I would always be alone. The joy I’d felt over finally having a family of my own was replaced by fear that consumed me bit by bit until it forced me to do something I will regret for the rest of my life.

I stand in the dark room, staring up at the framed check on the wall, made out to me, in the amount of ten thousand dollars. The tears fall silently down my cheeks and I don’t bother wiping them away. I deserve the pain and misery that being in this room brings. At least I have one thing going for me—I never cashed that check.

I never cashed that fucking check.

I STARE AT Olivia’s bowed head as she reads through the file that details the work that’s been done on my knee, from the initial surgery in the Dominican to remove the bullet to the two I’d had stateside to try to repair the resulting damage. Her long black hair is hanging loose around her shoulders, obscuring her face. I want to reach out and tuck it behind her ear so I can see her, but I’m pretty sure she’d smack my hand away. When she walked through the door fifteen minutes ago, I tried to get her to smile, making a crack about the fact that she was wearing jeans and a t-shirt instead of scrubs. I told her she should have worn pediatric scrubs with kittens or puppies on them since she was dealing with a temperamental child with an attitude problem.

She didn’t smile. She just brushed past me and went right to the couch. She asked for my medical records and has been studying them ever since. I want to ask her why she looks tired, to question the slight puffiness around her eyes that makes me wonder if she spent her night crying. I don’t ask because, selfishly, I don’t want to know if her tears were my fault. I don’t want my reappearance in her life to cause her so much turmoil. I was an idiot for thinking I could just breeze right back in and everything could go back to the way it was.