Chapter 12: Chapter Twelve

Hermione

I did the one thing I vowed never to do again: reveal my vulnerability to another soul.

As Aiden drives, I gaze out the window, clearing my mind of the morning's events. His familiarity with my home address doesn't surprise me, and he pulls over before the gates to my condominium.

The gate swings open, courtesy of Lucas, my gatekeeper, who has confirmed my presence. Aiden zooms in, parking in the spacious driveway.

My house exudes a modest charm, its understated exterior belied by the ornate furnishings and subtle blend of architectural and art excellence within.

As Aiden follows me inside, his eyes scan the interior, a hint of approval flickering across his face. I notice his surprise when I invite him in, but he quickly regains his composure.

I lead him to the living room, gesturing to a seat. "Would you like tea or coffee?" I ask, heading towards the kitchen.

Given the early hour, I assume he hasn't had a chance to eat or drink yet. While I'm not inclined to cook him breakfast, a cup of coffee seems a suitable gesture. Besides, I need a caffeine boost to gear up for the day ahead.

"Coffee, please," he replies, settling into the chair. "With cream and ample sugar."

I nod briefly and continue into the kitchen to start brewing the coffee. As the percolator works its magic, I slip away for a quick shower. Five minutes later, I emerge, wrapped in a heavy white bathrobe that engulfs my frame.

I return to the kitchen, where the coffee is now ready. I pour two mugs, adding cream and sugar to Aiden's, before carrying the tray of only Aiden's mug to the living room.

Aiden has made himself comfortable, arm slung over the chair's back, watching TV as he waits for me. His eyes rake over my body as I approach, but he quickly clears his throat, focusing on the steaming mug I present to him.

"Thanks," he murmurs, accepting the coffee.

"You should leave after you're done," I tell him, establishing a clear boundary. The coffee is a gesture of appreciation for the ride home, but I'd rather not feel indebted to him.

He lowers the coffee mug from his mouth, his eyes narrowing slightly as he scrutinizes me. "Why are you trying to rush me out?" he asks, his brows knitted. "Aren't you going to work today?"

"I am," I reply, biting the corner of my lip. "But you don't have to wait around. I can find my way to work from here. And don't bother about picking up my car; I'll retrieve it myself on my way to the hospital."

He sets his mug down on the center table, his gaze piercing as he watches me. "You're trying to push me away," he states, his voice low and husky.

I huff, feigning nonchalance. "We were never close. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work to get back to. You may see yourself out when you're done." With that said, I spin on my heels and walk away, leaving him to his thoughts. His gaze is hot on my back as I depart.

As I disappear into my room, I'm already regretting my vulnerability earlier. I'm embarrassed that I cried on his shoulders, seeking comfort from his warmth when I ought to have fought through my tears alone.

The memory of his scent, an alluring male cologne—woody, spicy, with a hint of leather—washes through me, and my belly clenches. A sharp sensation sweeps through my chest, and my heart constricts.

I scowl at my reaction to him, stamping down the feeling as soon as it surfaces. Yet I'm reminded of the powerful feel of his arms around me. I felt safe in his embrace. I jolt from these thoughts as if burned, pushing those errant feelings to the back of my mind.

I take a few moments to collect myself, then begin to prepare for work. I comb through my hair with vengeance until it falls in silky waves around my frame. I dress quickly, opting for a crisp white blouse and tailored black pants. My heels click on the floor as I head back to the kitchen to drink my coffee.

I take it black, having no time to add sweeteners like Aiden prefers. The bitter taste coats my tongue, but it's exactly what I need to wake myself up. I drink the rest of the coffee in one swift motion, then place the cup in the sink.

Aiden is gone by the time I return to the living room, his glass of coffee empty. However, he leaves a note behind, using the mug as a paperweight: "Thanks for the coffee. I enjoyed it. You're welcome, by the way. Are we still having that date? It's your call."

I crumple the small paper in my hand and take his mug with me to the kitchen. I toss the paper into the waste bin, having read its message, and wash his mug along with mine. Once everything is set, I head out of my house, locking the door behind me.

I order an Uber to pick me up, directing the driver to where my car is parked. After paying the driver, I retrieve my car and head to work. By the time I arrive, the time is ticking toward eight a.m.

As I step out of the elevator, my heels making decisive clicks on the polished marble flooring, I run into Professor Patel.

"Professor Pierce," his voice is shrill as he calls out to me. He diverts off the track he's initially heading toward and approaches me.

"Morning," I greet begrudgingly, my tone curt.

Professor Patel's eyes scrutinize my face, searching for evidence of the earlier morning's altercation with my mother. I'm aware that news of the episode must have spread, but I've effectively concealed the slap mark with the makeup I applied.

"Morning," he returns, meeting my gaze after his scrutiny. "You look lovely this morning." His compliment sounds insincere, and I sense he's attempting to falsely sympathize with me.

I dismiss his flattery, my voice brusque. "Did you have something important to discuss with me?" My tone reveals my impatience, making it clear I'm not in the mood to entertain his empty compliments.

Professor Patel shakes his head, withholding his remark at my retort. "I wanted to inquire about your patients from last night's surgery. Where did you go after they hadn't gained consciousness?"

His question piques my curiosity, and my eyes narrow slightly.

"Was there a complication while I was away?" I ask.

Professor Patel shakes his head reassuringly. "No, everything was fine. As always, your surgery was flawless. Thanks for the save last night. You had plans for the evening, didn't you?" He asks, attempting to fish for information about my dispute with my mother earlier that morning.

I sense that the nurses who overheard our altercation must have shared tidbits of the conversation, and now everyone's speculating about my personal life.

I defied my mother's orders, choosing to save lives instead of attending a date I would have rather avoided. However, she wasn't impressed, as nothing ever impresses Ezra Watson Pierce unless it aligns with her plans.

I terminate the conversation, my tone firm. "Excuse me." I walk away from Professor Patel, heading toward my office to start another typical day.