Her hands drop from my face and I instantly want to beg her to put them back. When she touches me, I feel comfort deep down in my bones and I never want that feeling to end.

“Thank you for telling me about them. It’s nice to finally understand why you had to go, but that doesn’t mean I’m not still angry about it.”

I nod my head in agreement. I can give her all the explanations in the world, open up my heart to her in ways I never did before, but it doesn’t erase the fact that I left or take away the pain I caused her.

“I had to make things right. I knew nothing I did would bring them back, but they were everything good and right about my past,” I explain.

“But I was your future,” she whispers softly. “And you should have trusted me enough to let me in.”

I have nothing to say in response to that because she’s absolutely right. Maybe if I had opened up to her about Dragon and King when we met, we wouldn’t be where we are now, trying to pretend like things aren’t awkward and strained between us after my time away. Maybe I wouldn’t have left the way I did, breaking both our hearts in the process. Maybe just her voice over the phone could’ve battled the ghosts that haunted me in the Dominican and I wouldn’t have been so damn suicidal that I walked into an ambush that resulted in a knee that’ll be fucked up for the rest of my life. Should have, would have, could have. It’s all bullshit and there’s nothing I can do to change it outside of making sure it never happens again.

“So, how come you’re working for a temp agency? I can’t believe the hospital would let their best nurse go without a fight,” I state, wanting to know about her life now that my sharing time is over.

Her face clouds over and, for a minute, I think she’s going to shut me down again and I want to take back my words. Then I think about the things I told her and I get a little pissed off. She can’t just expect me to pour my heart out to her without getting something in return. I know I fucked up and kept things from her, but there are obviously things she’s keeping from me, as well. I can see it written all over her face. Thankfully, she speaks before I can put my foot in my mouth.

“I don’t work for UC San Diego anymore. This temp job is the only one I could get and that’s just because Garrett pulled a few strings and threatened a few lives.”

She tries to make light of her explanation with an awkward chuckle, but I’m not buying it.

“What the fuck do you mean this is the only job you could get?” I ask angrily. “You ran the entire ICU floor and you were the best nurse they’d ever had in the history of that hospital. You even went to night school to get your PT license because it killed you to have to let your patients go when they were transferred. You wanted to follow them through every step of their recovery. You were an amazing nurse. You ARE an amazing nurse.”

She tries to pull her hand out of mine, but I won’t allow it. I hold on tighter and pull her closer to me, reaching up with my other hand and placing it on her chin, forcing her to look at me.

“What the hell happened while I was gone?”

I see her chest rising and falling rapidly and she swallows nervously.

“A lot of things happened, Cole. When you left, everything went to shit. EVERYTHING. I know I’ve been a bitch, and I’m sorry for that. I needed to understand why you left and I know it probably seems like I’m being demanding and unreasonable, wanting to know everything when there’s so much that I need to tell you, as well. I can’t help it. I’ve been angry for so long that I don’t know how NOT to be angry. I’m still trying to come to terms with you being here, with you being alive when I tried to pretend like you were dead from the moment you left. It was easier that way. It made the pain bearable. I could get up out of bed every morning and do what I needed to do because I refused to let myself hope that you’d walk through the door at any moment. You were gone. You were never coming back and I had to keep moving, keep breathing, keep living.”

Her words cut through me like a rusty, jagged knife and I want to rub my knuckles against my chest to make the pain stop. I knew I hurt her when I left, but hearing the extent of her pain makes it a thousand times worse. I need to hear this, though. I need to know how much damage I’ve done so I can figure out a way to fix it. And I WILL fix it, no matter what it takes.

“I made some foolish mistakes at work and I paid for them with my job and almost my license,” she finishes with a nonchalant shrug.

She’s lying. She’s making light of this and I don’t understand why. I could always tell when she was lying because she ran her tongue over her lips and refused to make eye contact. Why is she lying to me? Does it have something to do with my parents? They made it obvious they didn’t approve of Olivia, but I made it quite clear that their opinion didn’t mean jack shit to me. I made my mother swear that Olivia’s job would never be affected by our relationship, and she grudgingly agreed when I threatened to cut her out of my life permanently. Did she go back on her promise? Did my being out of the picture make my mother think she could play God with Olivia’s life? The thought makes my blood boil and I feel so much rage rushing through me that my hands start to shake again.

“Liv—”

She cuts me off with a squeeze of her hand and look over into her eyes.

“Just give me some time, okay? I need to wrap my head around all of this and I need to do it the right way. I don’t want to cause a rift in your family,” she says softly, confirming my suspicions that my parents DID have something to do with Olivia’s career change.