Lillian’s hands gripped the edges of the sink, her knuckles white as she stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Her face was flushed, her eyes red and swollen from holding back tears, but the pain in her chest was so much worse than the physical signs of her distress. She took a shaky breath, trying to steady herself, but the emotions roiled inside her, refusing to settle.
Rebecca’s cold, detached words echoed in her mind. How could she have switched so quickly from the vulnerable woman who had stayed in her bed, who had made coffee in her kitchen, to this distant, indifferent version of herself? It felt like whiplash, and Lillian didn’t know how to process it.
She pressed the heel of her hand to her chest, trying to push down the ache that had taken residence there. She had thought—hoped—that things were different now. That after the night they had shared, Rebecca was finally letting her in. But now, in the stark fluorescent light of the hospital, it was clear that the Rebecca she had seen last night had vanished, replaced by the cold, unapproachable surgeon she always seemed to retreat into.
A sob threatened to escape her throat, and Lillian quickly clamped a hand over her mouth, not wanting anyone to hear. She couldn’t break down here—not at the hospital, where everyone was watching, where her reputation as an intern was still being built. But the weight of everything was too much.
Suddenly, the sound of the door creaking open broke through the quiet. Lillian quickly wiped at her eyes, trying to compose herself, but it was too late.
"Lil?"
Lillian’s heart sank. It was Olivia. The youngest of her older sisters stood in the doorway, her face etched with concern as she took in the scene before her.
"Lillian, are you crying?" Olivia asked softly, stepping further into the bathroom. Her voice was gentle, but there was a firmness behind it, the kind of warmth that only Olivia could bring. She closed the door behind her, giving them privacy, and walked over to Lillian, her hand resting lightly on her back.
Lillian swallowed hard, her throat tight. "I’m fine," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, though the tremble in it gave her away.
Olivia’s eyes softened, and she shook her head, brushing a strand of blonde hair away from Lillian’s face. "No, you’re not."
That simple statement undid her. The dam Lillian had been holding back finally broke, and the tears came, spilling down her cheeks in hot, silent streams. Olivia pulled her into a hug without hesitation, holding her close as Lillian’s body shook with sobs.
They stayed like that for a while, Olivia rubbing slow, comforting circles on Lillian’s back, not asking any questions, not pushing for answers. Just being there. Just letting her cry.
When Lillian’s tears finally slowed, Olivia pulled back slightly, keeping her hands on Lillian’s shoulders as she looked her in the eye. "Do you want to tell me what’s going on?" she asked gently.
Lillian bit her lip, her gaze dropping to the floor. She couldn’t bring herself to tell Olivia everything—not about Rebecca, not about the affair. But she needed to talk to someone, to let out at least some of what she had been holding inside.
"It’s..." Lillian hesitated, searching for the right words. "It’s complicated. There’s someone. And...I thought things were changing. I thought she was letting me in. But then today..." Her voice cracked, and she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to keep heremotions in check. "Today, she just turned cold. Like nothing had changed. Like I didn’t matter."
Olivia’s brow furrowed, her expression softening even more. She nodded slowly, taking in everything Lillian had said. "I see."
Lillian wiped at her eyes again, her fingers trembling. "I don’t know why I let it get to me. I should’ve known better. She’s always been distant and closed off. I just thought that maybe..." Her voice trailed off, and she shook her head, feeling foolish for believing in something more.
Olivia let out a soft sigh and guided Lillian to the bench near the wall, sitting down beside her. "Lillian, I don’t know who this person is, but I think I can guess the type."
Lillian glanced over at her sister, a questioning look on her face.
"Cold, distant, emotionally unavailable?" Olivia said, raising an eyebrow. "Sounds familiar, doesn’t it?"
Lillian blinked, her heart sinking as the realization hit her. Itdidsound familiar. It sounded a lot like their mother—Evelyn Harrington, the woman who had always been more interested in her career than in offering warmth or emotional support to her daughters. Lillian had grown up craving affection and attention, but instead, she had been given cold professionalism, high expectations, and little else.
"I know it’s hard," Olivia continued, her voice soft but firm. "Growing up with Mom was...well, it was a lesson in how to love someone who doesn’t know how to love you back in the way you need. And I get why you’d be drawn to someone like that—someone who’s emotionally closed off, someone who reminds you of the only kind of affection you’ve ever known."
Lillian swallowed hard, her chest tightening as Olivia’s words hit home. She had been drawn to Rebecca for that reason. There was something familiar in the way Rebecca kept her distance, in the way she hid her emotions behind a wall of professionalismand control. It was the same kind of emotional distance she had experienced with their mother.
"But, Lils," Olivia said, turning to face her fully. "You deserve more than that. You deserve someone who can give you more. Who isn’t afraid to be open with you. Who doesn’t make you feel like you have to keep chasing them just to get a glimpse of their real self."
Lillian let out a shaky breath, her hands twisting in her lap. "I just... I don’t know how to stop feeling this way. I care about her. I want her to let me in, but every time I think we’re getting somewhere, she pulls back. I’m tired of feeling like I’m not enough."
Olivia squeezed her hand gently, her voice filled with quiet understanding. "It’s not that you’re not enough, Lil. It’s that she’s not ready—or maybe she’s not capable of giving you what you need. And that’s not your fault. It’s on her."
Lillian looked down, feeling the weight of Olivia’s words sink in. She had been so focused on what she could do to break through Rebecca’s walls and what she could change about herself to make Rebecca want to let her in that she hadn’t considered the possibility that it wasn’t something she could fix.
"It’s hard," Olivia continued, her voice soft but steady. "I know. You want to believe that they’ll change, that they’ll finally see you the way you need them to. But the truth is, sometimes they don’t. And you deserve someone who sees you—really sees you—without you having to fight for it."
Lillian felt tears prick at her eyes again, but this time they weren’t from pain. They were from the realization that Olivia was right. She had been fighting so hard to be seen by Rebecca, to prove that she was worth more than just the occasional moment of vulnerability. But maybe Rebecca wasn’t ready to give that to her. Maybe she never would be.
"You’re allowed to want more, Lillian," Olivia said gently. "You’re allowed to demand more. And if this person can’t give it to you, then maybe it’s time to think about what you really want—what you really need."
