Chapter 2

That line was the reason I chose him.

We were both doctors trained on the East Coast. But our hearts leaned toward translational research—work that could actually reach patients and change outcomes.

I thought we shared that dream.

Turns out, he'd let it go a long time ago.

The place he wanted to be was wherever Lilith was.

He came home late that night.

I pretended to be asleep. He stood on the balcony, on the phone.

"Lilith, sweetheart, don't cry."

"Yeah, my contract's signed..."

"Don't worry. I'll be there..."

He soothed her for a long time. His voice carried a tenderness I had never heard.

In the middle of the night, he rolled over and mumbled something under his breath.

"Lilith... I miss you..."

A bitter smile crossed my face.

I used to sleep deeply.

Guess I missed a lot of confessions.

The next morning, Sebastian left early.

"Don't forget to handle our onboarding paperwork."

His eyes darted away. But he didn't linger a second longer.

On the desk sat all our onboarding documents.

His were already gone. Only mine remained.

I organized my files and drove to Avalon Biopharma's headquarters in Kendall Square, Boston.

The HR representative who greeted me was a woman with a sharp ponytail and rimless glasses. She looked efficient. No-nonsense.

She scanned my CV, then looked up at me.

"You're here to take the Chief Medical Officer position?"

"Yes."

"You're the one coming back for Project Morning Star?"

"Yes."

She was quiet for a moment. Her eyes reddened.

"I've been in this field for twenty years. I've seen countless top talents leave Boston—for Europe, for California, for private medical groups with bigger paychecks."

Her voice trembled.

"But someone like you, holding a tenured faculty position at Harvard Medical School, coming back to join a startup research institute—that's rare."

She stood and reached for my hand.

"Welcome back, Dr. Harlow. We've been waiting for you."

My nose stung.

Growing up in Boston, I often heard my mother say—she was Chief of Surgery at Mass General—"No matter how far you go, never forget why you put on the white coat."

My mother had been gone for eight years.

Her ashes were scattered in the Charles River, right beside the hospital where she gave her whole life.

I hadn't done anything truly for her in years.

This year, I was going back.

With my dream. With my research. To see her.

That evening, Sebastian came home holding a gift bag.

"Audrey, I got you something."

It was an elegant crystal sculpture of the Golden Gate Bridge.

"See? You and California are meant to be. You even got that Stanford visiting scholar offer years ago. Too bad it didn't work out."

My fingers slowly tightened.

Back then, I had earned a two-year visiting scholar position at Stanford.

It was the opportunity I had dreamed of.

Stanford's translational medicine program was world-class.

My advisor told me, "This chance is once in a lifetime, Audrey. After this, your entire research perspective will shift."

I prepared to leave, brimming with excitement.

Then, a month before my departure, Sebastian was diagnosed with acute appendicitis.

A minor surgery. Three days in the hospital, one month to recover.

But he held me back.

"Don't go. Stay with me."

I hesitated.

"But this opportunity..."

"You'll get other chances."

He cut me off. Irritation crept into his voice.

"I'm sick right now. Shouldn't you stay and take care of me?"

In the end, I stayed.

And that once-in-a-lifetime opportunity went to the second-ranked student in our department. Lilith Valentine.

Looking back now, what a coincidence.

Lilith wanted that spot, so he schemed to get it for her.

Lilith wanted him in California, so he abandoned his original purpose.