Back in her college days, she had lived on campus too. Those were the years of cramped four-person dorm rooms—just undergrads sharing a space.

With her privileged background, striking looks, and bold, outgoing personality, she’d always been surrounded by admiring guys. The other three girls in the dorm had automatically formed their own little clique, drawing a clear line between themselves and her. It wasn’t exactly isolation, but it was obvious they came from different worlds. Now, all contact with those old roommates was long gone.

As for her current roommate, she felt neither warmth nor hostility. She was back at college to study, not to make friends, so there was no need to get too close. As long as they could coexist peacefully, that was enough.

After leaving campus, Jamison didn’t go home. Instead, he had Boyd drive him straight back to the hospital for his shift. There was a mountain of work waiting for him. His colleagues were delighted to see him return. But having just started a “trial separation” from his wife, he looked visibly downcast. Even when greeted, he managed only a brief nod.

“You’re back to work, Professor?” came a familiar voice.

Jamison glanced up in surprise. Celeste Quinn stood before him.

“What brings you to cardiothoracic?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m rotating through the departments—started here yesterday.” Celeste grinned, her smile bright and open.

Jamison’s expression remained distant as he busied himself tidying his desk. Celeste tilted her head, studying his face with concern. “Are you alright, Professor?”

“I’m fine. Just back from leave—lots to catch up on.” With that, Jamison turned to a colleague, asking after a patient he’d assisted with in the middle of the night a few days prior. The two men walked out of the office, deep in conversation.

Celeste stayed where she was, turning to watch Jamison’s retreating figure. Her eyes brimmed with a longing she couldn’t quite hide. She knew, rationally, that she shouldn’t let herself fall any deeper. But she couldn’t help it. Especially after learning that Jamison’s wife suffered from severe adenomyosis and likely couldn’t have children—her heart ached for him, and she felt a confusing mix of pity, sorrow, and regret on his behalf. She couldn’t understand why Jamison, when he had so many better options, had chosen such a complicated woman. Was it really just because of her breathtaking beauty? Celeste desperately wanted to ask him outright, but she knew she didn’t have the right. All she could do was swallow the questions and keep them buried in her heart.

Meanwhile, after finishing his rounds, Jamison asked a colleague, “How long is Celeste rotating here?”

“Hospital policy—two months per department,” came the reply.

Two months…

Jamison’s brow furrowed even deeper.

Noticing his reaction, the colleague asked curiously, “Not happy with Dr. Quinn? I heard she studied under Professor Penn—same mentor as you, right?”

“She’s technically excellent, I have no issue with her work. It’s just… personal reasons,” Jamison replied flatly.

“Personal reasons…” The colleague caught on, lowering his voice with a grin. “Don’t tell me Dr. Quinn has a thing for you?”

Jamison said nothing, his already stern features growing even colder.

“You go ahead—I need to make a call,” he said.

“Of course.” The colleague didn’t linger, quickly excusing himself.

Alone, Jamison stood by the window, fishing his phone from his pocket and dialing Ivv L.

They’d been apart for less than half a day, and already he felt a gnawing ache of longing. She, on the other hand, hadn’t even sent a single message. God knows how she was doing back at college. He waited, phone pressed to his ear, hoping to hear her familiar, melodious voice. But after just two rings, the call was cut off.

Jamison stared at his screen in disbelief. She’d hung up on him? Was this what happened the moment they were apart—she just cut him out of her life?