Silence had been an ally of mine since the beginning of my career. It had guided me through my complex emotions, and helped me discover the better in everything. But today, somehow, the same silence was suffocating me.

My eyes drilled holes into my name plate on my desk. Suddenly I despised that name.

Because he wasn't enough. Even after coming so far and going out of his way to help others, he wasn't enough.

I wasn't enough.

I didn't plan my day to be like this. This fresh new day was supposed to start with a fresh new client; Maeve Adams. But instead, now I sat across my girlf– my ex-girlfriend, with her hands fisted in her lap and eyes drawing patterns on my table.

Apparently, Chloe had not paid any heed to my requests, and fired up Olivia over the phone. I didn’t know if it was the right thing by my sister, because it was something I wanted to do. But couldn’t. And given Chloe's warning of not sparing Olivia, firing over the phone was the least dangerous option.

I didn't look at Olivia.

I couldn't see her ocean eyes and not forgive her instantly. That was the point. I didn't want to forgive her for whatever she had done. For breaking my heart and laying the crumbles of it at my feet like souvenir.

But, alas, I'd taken an oath to help anyone seeking my help. Even if it was my girlf— ex-girlfriend.

In that moment, I willed myself to see her as nothing but a normal person, another client, who came to seek my help. Just another one of my patients. That was the least I could do to protect the remnants of the still- beating organ in my chest.

"May I help you, Miss. Kelly?" My voice sounded sharper, curter than I intended to as I forced myself to meet her eyes. Those once drowning blue eyes, now brimming with guilt and unshed tears. The organ throbbed in my chest.

What can I do Olivia? I didn't expect us to be like this too.

"Ian..." She huffed out a difficult breath, trying to gulp down a sob. "I'm sorry."

My heart constricted in my chest, then began thumping hard against my ribcage. Despite what had happened, despite the hate which I could conjure in me for her, I wanted to hug her. I wanted to pull her close and tell her it was okay. But I didn't know to what extent I would mean that. And at the position where I sat, as a doctor, rather than her ex-boyfriend, I could do anything but lie.

I wouldn't lie even if I could.

"Miss. Kelly," I started, and feverishly cleared my throat. "Mistakes happen. It's in the human nature to stumble off track sometimes. It's...not something we can simply avoid, is it?" I was telling it more to myself than her. Trying to convince myself that her being here and feeling sorry was mote than enough to forgive and move on.

Olivia didn't once blink and a single tear rolled down her flushed cheeks.

My fingers twitched under the table, itching to move forward and brush that tear off her face, and it took everything in me to resist that urge. I still hated when she cried.

"Ian, please. Don't be like that."

"Like what?" I snapped, eyes narrowing ever so slightly, I doubted she noticed.

Her brows squinted as if she was in pain. "Like it doesn't hurt you. Like I didn't hurt you."

Oh, she realizes.

A bitter, half-hearted chuckle broke through my aching chest at the irony of our situation. She was reminding me that she had hurt me.

When I didn't respond, Olivia studied my face with a pained expression, eyebrows furrowed and bottom lip clamped tightly into her mouth. I could tell there was so much she wanted to say and my ears were aching to hear it. But she only managed to repeat one thing.

"I'm sorry." She said again, and the last strand of my patience seethed, haunting to break.

This was not going to do.

"What are you sorry for, Olivia?" I undid the button of my blazer, voice as calm as I could manage to keep. "Tell me everything you did, enjoyed, and now regret." The blazer slid off my shoulder, and I stood up, walking around my chair to hang it around the neck of my seat.

Olivia remained silent, her eyes returning to the table. As terrible as it made me as a human being, I was quite sated looking at her blank expression. But it wasn't enough. It wasn't fucking enough.

I didn't even know what would be enough.

"You know, Olivia," I moved around the table, circling behind her to the other end of the room. "Consider this as a confession. A reconciliation. I know I'm no priest but, hey, I can lend you an ear if you want to talk. That is…if you think you’ve done wrong." My own words choked me out of breath as I said the last few words. "If you need to move on, you have to tell someone, Olivia. Tell me." Please. Tell me everything.

I was standing right behind her, watching her shoulder tremble with a silent sob, when she swirled around in her chair to look up at me. Tears now freely flowed down her reddening cheeks as she bolted up from the chair, and threw her arms around my neck. I stumbled back at her sudden launch, hands naturally coming around her into a gentle hold.

I didn't expect that. But fuck, I didn't know I wanted that.

"I'm sorry, Ian. I'm so sorry." She sobbed into my neck, and I felt her warm tears roll down my neck, soaking into the collar of my shirt. But that warmth did very little to calm the ice forming around my heart.

"I never meant to cheat on you. Please, let me explain just once. After that, I won't show you my face, I promise. I will leave, Ian and never return, if that's my punishment."

Punishment.

My own eyes burned now. Leave and never return. That could be the simplest thing said than done. But could I actually bear listening to the story of my own heartbreak from another perspective? I couldn't. But I wanted to. I wanted it to hurt until I couldn't feel anymore. I wanted to be numb.

My arms came around her, protectively, gently. As if a little part inside me still wanted to keep her safe from anything that could possibly hurt her.

We sat at the couch of my office, deciding the table wouldn't allow me to hold her hand like I was doing at the moment. Olivia sniffled quietly, both of her hands holding one of mine as she stared down at my firm hold on her.

"I met Carrick when I was away in San Diego, for Mom's first surgery." She started, her voice hushed, like she didn't want anyone else to hear her other than me.

First surgery...

"That was last year, before Christmas." And I realized with yet another shard piercing through my heart that it all started back then, almost a year ago.

She nodded, chin trembling slightly. "He was assisting the Doctor through Mom's surgery. I saw him almost every day, but at that time, nothing was more important than Mom. Nothing more painful than seeing her cry in pain every day." She clutched my hand and I placed my free palm over hers. I could see the pain in her expressions. Olivia loved her mom more than anything and anyone.

"During the second surgery, the doctor said that he wasn't sure if Mom could make it." A pause. "He said she was too weak to handle the dozes and the pain." She looked up, her eyes blood shot red. "I broke down in the hallway of the hospital, Ian." The images of a blonde head sobbing in the middle of the hospital floor, flooded my mind, unbidden, clawing at my throat as Olivia continued. "I missed you." She missed me. "I needed you to hold me." She needed me to hold her. "I wanted to hear you say it would all be okay." She needed my reassurance.

And in that moment, I knew I had failed. I had failed to fulfil the basic necessities a boyfriend was compelled to do. I had failed her, and myself.

I had failed us.

"Then Carrick found me on the floor, alone in the hallway. He thought I passed out, but I was just numb, from all the crying. He carried me inside Mom's room. When senses returned, he was cradling me in his arms. I wanted to pull away but…but my limbs were glued in place. It was so long since I'd been reassured like that." Her face flushed, with guilt, and a little pain, reflecting my insides. "Later on, he said that I mumbled ‘Ian, hold me’ in my sleep. He even apologized to me for the hug."

Wet warmth pooled around the corner of my mouth as I tasted the saltiness of my own tears. I didn't know if I was crying for myself, or for the girl who longed for me in her unconsciousness, begging for a hug. Maybe I was crying for a relationship we failed to protect. I failed to protect.

Abruptly, even before I could stop myself, I tugged at her hands, and pulled her into my chest. She instantly buried her face in my neck, her shoulders rocking with another sob. Then another, and another.

"It...it all just went on after that, Ian. Carrick was always around me, making sure I wasn't just feeding Mom, but having something myself. He…he brought me coffee, dropped me to the hotel room himself. He showed me…kindness, Ian, without laying a finger on me after that hug. And...I never realized how much I needed it."

"I'm sorry." I was repeating her words from earlier, with the same emotions, the same guilt and pain. "I'm sorry I couldn't–"

She shook her head against my neck. "No, Ian. It wasn't your doing. It was all me, and my stupid heart. I should have stopped when there was still time." She pulled me closer, her cries muffled against my shoulder. "I should have told you."

"Do you..." My throat constricted painfully as I looked up at the ceiling, forcing fresh tears back. "Do you love him?"

There was no point in asking a question which already screamed back the answer in my head. But I wanted to hear it. I wanted to know my subconscious wasn't lying to me.

Olivia sniffled, pressing her forehead against my shoulder. And as her head moved, nodding to my previous question, her silent answer made a weight, heavy and suffocating, slowly lift itself off my shoulder. It lifted higher and higher, until I couldn't feel it anymore.

The photo I had seen of them on the beach flooded my brain. That look on her face, the gleam in her eyes, and her grin so wide. She looked so happy. I doubted she ever looked that happy with me.

Almost reluctantly, she pulled back, wiping her cheeks with the back of her palm. Her eyes, however, remained glued to her entangled fingers with mine, in her lap.

I knew the guilt rising within her. But apart from being her ever-so-busy boyfriend, I had also been her best friend much before we'd started dating. I knew she'd blame herself now, and probably for the rest of her life for what happened And that somehow overpowered the striking pain of betrayal I was feeling since the last few days. I realized, that I wanted her to be happy. That was what I had always wanted.

Sliding two fingers under her chin, I tipped her head back and her eyes were forced to meet mine.

"I won't say I'm okay. You know me better, Olivia. I'm not okay. It's still...a lot to take in and digest." Her face scrunched ever so slightly, threatening to break into another fit of sobs. "But that doesn't mean I hate you." I said, with a little smile that I was able to offer. She blinked, then returned my smile weakly and slid into my arms again.

She was the best hugger. A warm, big, bear hugger.

"Thank you for understanding me, Ian." She cried. "I love you." And hugged me tighter.

For that moment, I shut my eyes, feeling the depth of her words in a totally different way then I'd ever had. She loved me. Yes, I knew it. But she was in love with someone else. Someone that wasn't me.

"I love you too."

There lied the difference.

Distracting my mind ever so slightly, a little click urged my eyes up, toward the door, over Olivia's shoulder.

And I momentarily froze.

A pair of dark eyes stared back at me, at us through the slightly ajar door, the intensity of the stare almost burning holes at the back of Olivia's head. And then slowly, almost carefully, her eyes drew up, toward me.

My body stiffened further, if that was even possible, as her eyes burned into mine. A strand of brown wave blew over her face and distracted me.

Painfully, truly painfully she looked away when Olivia pulled back, and my eyes drew to her face, expressions back to normal. Blood rushed to my face.

Keep it down Ian. Cool down.

I didn't know why I was nervous. Was it because of Maeve's cruel gaze that had lingered on me, giving nothing away, or for the fact that I didn't know how long she'd been standing there and watching us?

A thought swirled in my mind as we stood from the couch and I walked Olivia out of my office.

Had she heard me getting respectfully dumped by Olivia? How much did she hear?

And why did I even care?

My furrowed brows once again settled back to rest as Olivia hugged me one last time at the clinic door, brushing a kiss against my cheek, and then she was off.

There was a soft smile drawn on her lips. Something she didn't carry inside my office. And I was somewhat, just a tad bit relieved that I had managed to lessen the burden she had carried inside with her. I stared blankly at the back of her head. Beautiful blonde curls blowing with wind.

When she and her car disappeared from my view, my eyes furiously glanced back at the reception lobby where only Mrs. Kennedy sat, then back at the road and parking lot. I didn't see a brown head or the slick golden strands gleaming in the sun light anywhere.

All I had was a lingering scent of Vanilla from the waiting seat beside the door. She was sitting there. But now she wasn't. And the thought stirred uncomfortably inside me.

She was gone.