Chapter 200: I Will Never Forgive Myself

Tara's POV

I was reviewing some documents in my study, eyes focused on the data before me, but my thoughts kept drifting to Luke and that nonexistent "blonde woman." For some reason, that lie was like a small pebble thrown into my seemingly calm mind, creating ripples of disturbance.

The door suddenly swung open, interrupting my thoughts. Finn strode into my study. "Was it Mesmer that poisoned Carter?"

I slowly set down my pen and looked up, carefully studying him.

"How did you know?" I asked softly, trying to keep my voice steady, though doubt was already rising within me.

"After your call last night, I investigated," Finn replied, his tone heavy, each word seemingly carefully considered.

He paused, his eyes flickering slightly. "He was poisoned with the enhanced version of Mesmer, which is much more potent. There wasn't enough time to develop an antidote."

I felt my chest tighten, my fingers unconsciously gripping the edge of the desk. Mesmer itself was a poison I had meticulously developed, its formula top secret, and the enhanced version was known to only a few people.

I slowly stood up, narrowing my eyes. "I had stopped suspecting you, but what you just said makes me doubt you again."

I saw Finn's expression shift slightly, from anger to confusion. "What do you mean?"

I walked around the desk, approaching him slowly, each step carefully calculated. Years of our mentor-student relationship had taught me to read his every micro-expression, every small gesture, and right now, his unease was almost tangible.

"How would an ordinary person know it was the enhanced version of Mesmer?" My voice was low and sharp. I looked directly into his eyes, searching for any sign of evasion. "Finn, I never thought you would do such a thing!"

We stood facing each other, tension filling the air between us. We had discussed cases in this study countless times, exchanged ideas, sometimes even staying up all night researching new formulas. Those memories flashed through my mind now, forming a stark contrast with the current scene, causing a painful ache in my heart.

"From today on, you are no longer my student. Our mentor-student relationship ends here!" I declared, my voice like ice and steel, though I could feel the tremor deep in my throat.

The moment the words left my mouth, I saw the change in Finn's eyes. His expression completely collapsed, revealing his most genuine emotions—shock, disbelief, deep hurt, and finally, a desperation I had never seen on his face before.

"You're severing our relationship for Luke Carter?" His voice was both angry and wounded, like a betrayed child.

"This is your own choice, Finn," I maintained my cold exterior, not letting my inner turmoil show.

Tears glistened in his eyes, but that vulnerability was quickly replaced by a cold anger. "Severing our relationship? Fine, as you wish!" He turned abruptly, his steps heavy and resolute, then slammed the door hard enough to shake the entire study.

I remained standing, feeling the echo of that loud noise reverberate through the air, creating waves of ripples in my heart. Suddenly, I felt an unprecedented weariness, not just physical, but spiritual. I sat back in my chair, rubbing my temples, trying to ease the throbbing there.

"You brat," I muttered softly, my voice lacking any real reproach, instead carrying a hint of resignation and nostalgia. "Making such a mistake and still having such a temper... I've clearly been too lenient with you..."

\---

The atmosphere during lunch was quiet until my phone rang. I glanced at the screen, saw Finn's name, and immediately declined the call. It rang again almost instantly, and I declined again. When it rang for the third time, I was irritated enough to answer.

"Dr. Taylor?" an unfamiliar male voice came through the speaker. "I'm an officer with the New York Police Department. Do you know a Mr. Finn Foster?"

My heart sank. "Yes, what's happened?"

"Mr. Foster got into an altercation at a downtown bar and is now at our station. He's very agitated and will only agree to contact you."

"I'll be right there," I said, ending the call and quickly rising to my feet.

When I arrived, the police station was busy. I soon spotted Finn sitting on a bench, looking like he'd been through hell. His clothes were stained with blood, hair disheveled, face bearing fresh bruises. The strong smell of alcohol surrounded him like a cloud.

"Finn Foster, you've really outdone yourself," I said, approaching and giving him a light tap on the back of his head. "Not just drinking, but fighting too!"

Finn looked up, his gaze cold and distant. "Who are you? I don't know you."

I froze, then turned to the officer. "Officer, I think I've mistaken this person."

"Right," Finn interjected, his voice full of sarcasm. "My problems have nothing to do with her! Even if I die, it's none of her business!"

The officer looked confused at the obvious tension between us. I turned to leave, but Finn's bitter laugh made me stop.

"That's right, I did it! I deliberately poisoned Luke Carter!" His voice carried a vindictive satisfaction that sent chills down my spine. "Even if he's recovered from the poison, he's lost his ability to have children!"

I spun around, a hard slap landing on Finn's face before I could even think. "Finn, look at what you've become!"

Before anyone could react, he lunged toward the officer, grabbing the gun from his holster and pointing it at his own chest.

"I got revenge for you!" he shouted, finger pulling the trigger.

The gunshot was deafening in the enclosed space. I screamed and rushed forward, catching Finn as he fell. "Finn! What are you doing? Who told you to do this?"

Blood seeped from the corner of his mouth, his face rapidly turning pale. "I did hate Luke Carter... but no matter how much I disliked him, I would never poison him... because I knew you would be angry..."

Tears welled in my eyes as I held him tightly. "Finn, I'm sorry, I misunderstood you." My voice choked as I pleaded, "Hold on, do you hear me? That's an order!"

\---

We rushed Finn to the hospital across from the police station, and I immediately took charge.

"I'm Dr. Taylor," I announced, showing my medical credentials. "Prepare an operating room immediately!"

By the time we got Finn onto the operating table, his breathing was shallow and irregular. The pre-operative examination revealed an unexpected complication—Finn had dextrocardia, a rare condition where the heart is positioned on the right side of the chest rather than the left. The bullet had grazed his aorta, making the situation extremely dangerous.

The lights in the operating room were harsh and cold, the ticking of instruments and the regular signals from monitoring equipment became my entire world. My hands moved within Finn's chest cavity, each step precisely calculated, each suture perfect.

"Aorta repair complete, blood pressure stabilizing," my voice was steady and professional, but only I knew the storm raging inside me.

When I finally completed the last suture and placed the surgical instruments back on the tray, I realized I had been holding my breath for a long time. That tension finally relaxed, my hands trembling slightly, sweat sliding down my forehead.

I made the announcement to the medical staff around me, removing my blood-stained surgical mask, my voice calmer than I expected, "Keep him in the ICU for monitoring, I'll personally oversee his recovery."

Leaving the operating room, I could barely support myself without leaning against the wall. The excessive tension and emotional turmoil had left my legs weak, my body feeling completely drained.

I stood outside the ICU, looking at Finn through the glass window. He lay there, connected to various tubes and monitoring equipment, his face so pale it was almost transparent. In that moment, I felt a weariness I had never experienced before, not just physically, but deep in my soul.

If Finn had truly died because of my misunderstanding, I don't know if I could have borne that weight. From family members to students, I always seemed to be losing important people, and each loss took a piece of me with it. This world had already taken too much from me; I couldn't lose Finn too.

When the elevator doors opened and Luke's wheelchair slowly emerged, I barely had the strength to deal with this unexpected encounter. But strangely, the moment I saw him, a feeling of inexplicable comfort washed over me, like seeing a warm light in the middle of a storm.

"I heard about the shooting," he said softly, his eyes full of concern. "I didn't expect it to be Finn."

Only then did I realize how exhausted I was. All my pretenses and strength collapsed in that moment. I leaned against the wall, no longer able to maintain my usual composure. My eyes were red and swollen, my throat sore from crying.

"I almost drove my own student to death," I said with a bitter smile, my voice full of self-reproach and pain. "Isn't that ridiculous? I'm always like this, thinking I know everything, thinking I can see through everything, but end up hurting the people I should never hurt."

Luke didn't immediately respond. He looked at me quietly, his gaze gentle and understanding. He seemed to know that what I needed right now wasn't consoling words, but a space to express myself, a listener who wouldn't judge me.

He moved his wheelchair forward, gently placing his hand on my shoulder. That touch was light yet firm, like a silent support. "Don't be like this," he finally spoke, his voice deep and warm. "He won't blame you. You saw him make a mistake, you felt angry and disappointed, that's normal. You can't always make perfect judgments, Tara, no one can."

I felt tears welling up in my eyes again. "Thank goodness he's alright," I whispered, my voice trembling unlike my usual self. "If something had really happened to him, I would never forgive myself."

"He'll definitely be fine," Luke's eyes were filled with a gentleness I hadn't seen in a long time. "Like you said, he's strong, and he has the best doctor in the world taking care of him."