Two days passed.
Sophia didn't text.
Didn't call.
Didn't show up at the café.
She buried herself in work—rounds, surgeries, consultations, paperwork. Anything to keep her hands busy and her mind occupied.
But even the busiest days couldn't drown out the thoughts that crept in during quiet moments.
The emergency room was chaos.
A multi-car accident on the highway. Seven patients. Three critical.
Sophia moved through it like a machine—precise, focused, unyielding.
"BP dropping in Trauma Two. We need to move now."
"Prep OR Three. Tell them we're coming up."
"Someone get me four units of O-negative. Now."
Her hands didn't shake. Her voice didn't waver.
She was in control.
For twelve hours, she didn't think about Jane.
She didn't think about Ethan.
She didn't think about anything except the work in front of her.
Sutures. Compressions. Incisions. Decisions.
Life and death.
Simple. Clear.
No room for feelings.
By the time her shift ended, the rain had started.
Sophia stood at the hospital entrance, staring out at the downpour.
Fat drops hammered against the pavement, turning the streets into rivers.
She should go home.
Shower. Sleep. Forget.
But her feet didn't move toward the parking lot.
They moved toward her car.
And her car—without her quite meaning to—drove toward Jane's hostel.
Sophia sat in her car, the engine idling, the rain drumming against the windshield.
The hostel building stood ahead—old brick, dim lights in some windows, students moving in and out under umbrellas.
Jane was in there.
Somewhere.
Sophia's hands gripped the steering wheel.
What are you doing here?
She didn't have an answer.
She'd spent two days avoiding this. Burying herself in work. Pretending everything was fine.
But it wasn't fine.
She couldn't stop thinking about Jane.
About the way she'd smiled at Ethan.
About the way she'd said, That sounds nice.
About the way Sophia had wanted to scream, No. She's mine.
Except Jane wasn't hers.
She never had been.
Sophia turned off the engine.
Stepped out into the rain.
The cold hit her immediately, soaking through her coat, her hair, her skin.
She stood on the sidewalk, staring up at the building.
What would you even say?
I'm sorry for being a coward?
I'm sorry for letting Ethan get close to you when all I wanted was to be the one sitting across from you?
I'm sorry for pretending this was fake when it stopped being fake the moment I saw you?
Sophia closed her eyes, rain streaming down her face.
She couldn't do this.
She couldn't just walk in and—
What? Confess?
She wasn't that person.
She was Sophia Whitmore. Controlled. Composed. Untouchable.
She didn't fall apart over someone.
Except she was falling apart.
Right here. In the rain.
Sophia took a step toward the entrance.
Then stopped.
No.
She couldn't.
Not like this.
She turned, walking back toward her car, her shoes squelching against the wet pavement.
Her hands were shaking as she opened the door.
She sat inside, dripping wet, staring at the steering wheel.
Then started the car.
And drove away.
Mia pushed open the hostel door, shaking out her umbrella, water dripping onto the floor.
She was laughing at something on her phone when she climbed the stairs and pushed open the door to their room.
Jane sat on her bed, textbook open, pen in hand.
But she wasn't reading.
Mia tossed her umbrella into the corner. "You would not believe the line at the café. I swear, half the campus decided they needed coffee at the exact same—"
She stopped.
Jane was staring at nothing.
"Hey." Mia's tone shifted. "You okay?"
Jane blinked, looking up. "Yeah. Fine."
"Liar." Mia sat down on her own bed, studying Jane carefully. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing. Just tired."
Mia tilted her head. "How's it going? With the whole... situation?"
Jane frowned. "What situation?"
"Your doctor." Mia's voice was softer now. "She visited."
Jane's head snapped up. "What?"
"Downstairs. Just now. I saw her leaving."
Jane's heart stopped. "You saw Sophia?"
"Yeah. She was standing outside. In the rain. Just... standing there. Looked like she was thinking about coming in but—" Mia shrugged. "She left."
Jane didn't hear the rest.
She was already moving.
"Jane, wait—"
But Jane was out the door, her feet pounding down the stairs, her breath coming in short gasps.
She burst through the entrance into the rain.
No umbrella. No coat.
Just her.
Her eyes scanned the street—the parked cars, the dim streetlights, the rain blurring everything.
"Sophia!" she called out, her voice swallowed by the downpour.
Nothing.
She ran toward the corner, her sneakers splashing through puddles, her hair already soaked.
"Sophia!"
But the street was empty.
No car. No figure in the rain.
Just water and silence.
Jane stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, breathing hard, rain streaming down her face.
She was too late.
Jane walked back to the hostel slowly, her clothes clinging to her skin, her hair dripping.
She climbed the stairs in a daze, pushed open the door.
Mia stood immediately. "Oh my God, you're soaked—"
"She was here," Jane whispered.
"I know. I told you—"
"And I missed her."
Mia's expression softened. She grabbed a towel, wrapping it around Jane's shoulders. "Jane—"
"Why didn't she come up?" Jane's voice cracked. "Why did she just leave?"
Mia didn't have an answer.
Jane sank onto her bed, pulling the towel tighter around herself.
Her phone buzzed.
She glanced at it.
Ethan.
She almost didn't answer.
But something made her pick it up.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Jane. Just checking in. How are you—"
"I can't do this anymore."
Ethan paused. "What?"
"This. The game. The pretending." Jane's voice was shaky now, raw. "I don't want to do it anymore."
"Jane, it's working. She's—"
"She was here, Ethan." Jane's voice broke. "She was standing outside in the rain. And she left. She didn't come up. She just... left."
Ethan was silent for a long moment.
"She's scared," he said finally, his voice quieter now.
"I know." Jane closed her eyes, tears mixing with the rain still dripping from her hair. "But I can't keep doing this to her. I can't keep making her feel like this."
"Jane—"
"I appreciate what you're trying to do. I really do. But I can't—" Her voice caught. "I can't hurt her anymore."
Ethan exhaled slowly. "Okay."
"Okay?"
"Yeah. Okay. We'll stop."
Jane's chest loosened slightly. "Thank you."
"But Jane?"
"Yeah?"
"You need to tell her. The truth. All of it."
Jane swallowed hard. "I don't know if she wants to hear it."
"She does." Ethan's voice was firm. "Trust me. She does."
Jane didn't respond.
"Promise me you'll talk to her," Ethan said.
"I—"
"Promise."
Jane exhaled shakily. "I promise."
"Good." Ethan's tone softened. "And Jane? For what it's worth, I think you're exactly what she needs."
Jane's throat tightened. "Thanks, Ethan."
"Anytime."
The line went dead.
Jane sat there, phone in hand, staring at nothing.
Mia sat beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.
"You okay?" Mia asked softly.
Jane shook her head. "No."
"What are you going to do?"
Jane looked down at her phone.
Then, slowly, opened her messages.
Scrolled to Sophia's name.
Her thumb hovered over the screen.
What do I even say?
She started typing.
"I know you were here."
She stared at the words.
Then deleted them.
Tried again.
"Can we talk?"
Simple. Direct.
Her heart pounded as she hit send.
Then she waited.
The rain continued outside.
And somewhere across the city, Sophia sat in her apartment, staring at her phone.
At Jane's message.
Her hands trembling.