Page 112 of The Love Operation

He opens his mouth to respond—but a shadow falls across the table.

We both look up.

Isaac.

“Isaac,” I say, my stomach dropping like a rock in water.

“Hello, Dr. Wren,” he says, cool and formal. His jaw’s clenched so tight I’m surprised it hasn’t cracked. “Hope I’m not interrupting.”

“Isaac, this is Benedict. He’s an old friend. We were catching up.” I turn to Benedict. “This is Isaac, the COO of the hospital.”

Benedict’s eyes flash to mine in question before he addresses Isaac. “Nice to meet you.” It sounds like a question.

Isaac’s handshake is firm. His smile is strictly decorative.

Dread pulses through my body like venom.

“I didn’t expect to see you this morning,” I say, trying to steady my voice.

“That’s clear,” he replies, gaze fixed on me. “Thought I saw you in the parking lot earlier.” His eyes flick to Benedict, then back.

He saw. He knows. But he won’t say it. Not here.

Suddenly, it’s like ice water is in my veins. My mouth won’t move. I feel Benedict’s eyes on me, but I can’t look away from Isaac.

“Well.” Isaac straightens his jacket. “I should get back to work. This hospital won’t run itself, and it looks like you two have a lot to talk about—being old friends and all.” He turns slightly. “Dr. Wren, I hope you’ll stop by my office after your case this morning.”

“Of course,” I manage. “After surgery—I’ll come by before clinic.”

He gives a tight nod and walks away.

The silence swells.

“I have to go,” I say, rising too quickly. My throat burns. I’m seconds from tears, and that makes me furious.

Benedict is wrecking my equilibrium, ruining my relationship.

“Wait.” He reaches for my arm.

I glance at his hand on my sleeve.

“What was with that guy? That was—”

“That was none of your business.” I pull back. “But if you must know . . . he was my boyfriend. I don’t know if he is anymore.”

Benedict’s brow furrows. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“I couldn’t,” I whisper as I look around. “It’s complicated. No one can know.”

He’s confused, but even he seems to know not to push. “And now you’re running off again?” he asks.

“I have to,” I say, eyes stinging. “There’s nothing left to say.”

Benedict stands, blocking my path. “I don’t know what you remember, Cordelia, but I loved you. With everything.” His voice catches. “I was so in love with you that I couldn’t move on. Not even when I tried. Chelsea knew. She said I was emotionally unavailable because I was still hung up on you.” He rakes a hand through his hair. “I didn’t believe her. I didn’t want to believe her. But she was right.”

The cafeteria, and all its sounds, fades to a blur, then it tilts. A moment of silence stirs between us. I couldn’t speak if I tried. There’s no air in my lungs.

He looks at me like it costs him something. “I’m in love with you, Cordelia Wren.” This time, his voice breaks—fully. Not loud, but enough to knock something loose in me. “I’ve tried like hell to forget you, to move on, but yesterday—watching you with my dad, sitting beside you in that car, laughing over the most ridiculous stuff like no time had passed—I felt more like myself than I have in years.” His gaze doesn’t waver. “I’m not over you.” He leans in slightly, barely. Just enough. “I never was.”