Elena's POV
Elena's hands shook as she pushed open the heavy glass doors of Manhattan Memorial Hospital. Her heart pounded so hard she could hear it in her ears.
Don't look at the fifth floor. Don't look up.
But she did. Her eyes went straight to the cardiology department where he worked. Where they'd met. Where everything had fallen apart.
"Dr. Castellano?" A young woman with a clipboard appeared beside her. "We're so excited to have you here! Your research on pediatric valve replacement is revolutionary. Everyone's been talking about you all week."
Elena forced a smile, though her stomach twisted into knots. Famous. They thought she was famous. They had no idea she was really just a coward who'd run away in the middle of the night six years ago.
"Thank you," Elena managed to say. Her voice sounded steadier than she felt.
As they walked through the corridors, doctors and nurses whispered. Elena caught fragments of their conversations.
"That's her—the youngest fellowship recipient in twenty years..."
"I heard she turned down Johns Hopkins to come here..."
"Why would someone that brilliant choose Manhattan Memorial?"
Because I'm an idiot, Elena thought. Because I thought enough time had passed. Because I thought I could handle this.
She touched her stomach—flat now, so different from six years ago when it had been round with Adrian growing inside her. Her baby boy was safe at home with Maria, the nanny. He'd been so brave this morning when she left, even though his little lip had trembled.
"Mama has to go to work," he'd said, repeating her words back to her. "But Mama always comes home."
Always, she'd promised him. Even if coming back to this hospital felt like walking into a nightmare.
"The welcome gala is tonight at seven," the young woman was saying. "All the department heads will be there. It's a great chance to network."
Elena's blood ran cold. Department heads. That meant Dr. Marcus Chen, Chief of Cardiology. That meant—
No. He won't be there. He works in adult cardiology. You're in pediatrics. Different worlds.
"I'll be there," Elena heard herself say.
The woman led her to a small office. "This is yours! Dr. Peterson wanted you to have the one with the window."
Elena stepped inside. It was perfect—bright, clean, with a view of Central Park. On the desk sat a welcome basket with chocolates and a card signed by the entire pediatric department.
For a moment, she let herself believe this could work. She could build a new life here. She could be the doctor she'd always dreamed of becoming. She could—
Her phone buzzed. A text from Maria: Adrian asking when you come home. He drew you a picture.
The attached photo showed a crayon drawing of two stick figures holding hands. One tall, one small. "MAMA AND ME" was written across the top in wobbly letters.
Elena's eyes burned with tears she wouldn't let fall. Everything she did was for him. Every choice, every sacrifice, every terrifying risk—including coming back to this hospital.
She had to succeed here. The research opportunities at Manhattan Memorial were unmatched. If she could just avoid him for one year, she could finish her fellowship, publish her findings, and secure a permanent position anywhere in the world.
One year. She could survive one year.
At 6:45 PM, Elena stood in front of her apartment mirror, smoothing down her simple black dress. Nothing fancy. Nothing that would draw attention. She wanted to blend in, stay invisible.
The gala was in the hospital's grand ballroom—a space usually reserved for fundraisers and award ceremonies. When Elena arrived, the room was already packed with doctors in suits and elegant dresses, all holding champagne glasses and laughing.
She grabbed sparkling water from a passing waiter and found a quiet corner. Her plan was simple: stay for thirty minutes, shake a few hands, then leave.
"Dr. Castellano!" Dr. Peterson, the head of pediatric cardiology, waved her over to a group of senior doctors. "Come meet everyone!"
Elena plastered on her professional smile and joined them. They asked about her research, her training, her plans. She answered smoothly, the way she'd practiced. No one asked about her personal life. No one asked why she'd disappeared from medical school six years ago, or where she'd been.
She was starting to relax when the ballroom doors opened.
The conversations around her dimmed. People turned to look.
Elena didn't need to turn. She could feel the change in the air, the way her skin prickled with awareness. She knew, even before she heard his voice.
"Sorry I'm late," he said. That voice—deeper now, but still the same. "Emergency surgery ran long."
Dr. Peterson beamed. "Dr. Castellano, there's someone you absolutely must meet. Dr. James Hartwell, our new Chief of Cardiology. He just transferred from Boston General last month."
Elena's world tilted sideways.
New Chief of Cardiology.
Just transferred.
Last month.
Slowly, like a person walking to their own execution, Elena turned around.
And there he was.
Six years older. More lines around his eyes. Hair shorter. But the same sharp jaw, the same intense dark eyes that had once looked at her like she was his entire world.
Those eyes met hers across the crowded room.
James Hartwell—the man she'd loved, the man she'd left, the man who didn't know he had a five-year-old son—went absolutely still.
His champagne glass slipped from his fingers and shattered on the marble floor.
In the sudden silence, he said one word.
"Elena?"