Chapter 9: JEALOUSY SPARKS IN THE CAFETERIA 

Wilson sat in the hospital cafeteria, stirring her coffee absentmindedly.

She wasn't much of a coffee person, but today, she needed the caffeine. Or maybe, she just needed something to keep her hands busy.

"Is this seat taken?"

The voice was familiar—too familiar.

Wilson's fingers tightened around her cup as she glanced up.

Emily.

She stood there, tray in hand, looking just as stunning as Wilson remembered. Long, curly brown hair. Light hazel eyes that used to hold promises. Promises that had turned to lies.

Wilson forced her expression to stay neutral. "Go ahead."

Emily slid into the seat, setting her tray down carefully. "It's been a while," she said softly.

Wilson said nothing.

But the past didn't need words to resurface.

She remembered the late-night whispers, the way Emily used to trace circles on her skin, telling her she was the only one.

She also remembered the text messages. The excuses. The gut-wrenching moment she walked in on Emily with someone else—someone who wasn't her.

She had stood frozen in that doorway, the betrayal slicing through her like a scalpel.

And now, here Emily was, sitting across from her like none of it had ever happened.

"You're kind of famous around here," Emily said, breaking the silence. "Some of the nurses call you 'The Ice Queen.'"

Wilson smirked, the nickname suiting her just fine. "Do they now?"

Emily leaned in slightly, her voice quieter. "You don't seem that icy to me."

Wilson was about to respond when she felt it.

A shift in the air.

Like someone was watching her.

Her gaze flickered toward the entrance—and froze.

Stella.

Standing beside Damien.

Damien said something to her, but Stella wasn't listening.

Her eyes were locked on Wilson.

And the way Wilson was sitting with another woman.

Wilson noticed the subtle clench of Stella's jaw.

Even from across the room, jealousy was written all over her face.

Damien, noticing her distraction, touched her arm.

"Honey, are you okay?" he asked, his voice gentle.

Stella blinked, then nodded stiffly.

"Yeah. I'm fine."

Damien guided her to a table—not far from Wilson's.

Wilson clenched her jaw.

She hated the way he was touching Stella. The way he was so close.

Who was he to her, really?

A boyfriend? A fiancé? A husband?

Why did it bother her this much?

Emily kept talking, but Wilson's focus was completely elsewhere.

Her coffee? Forgotten.

The conversation? Background noise.

Her eyes kept drifting to Stella—only to find Stella was already looking at her.

Neither of them looked away.

Damien was talking, but Stella wasn't listening.

Emily was chatting, but Wilson wasn't responding.

They were just… staring.

The unspoken tension sat heavy between them.

Wilson hated this feeling.

But she hated the sight of Damien's hand on Stella's even more.

Wilson's fingers tightened around her coffee cup.

She wasn't going to interfere.

At least, that's what she told herself.

But then, she noticed Damien's tray.

A plate of greasy fries. A burger loaded with cheese. A thick chocolate milkshake.

And next to it—Stella's tray.

The same unhealthy meal.

Wilson's eyes darkened.

No. Absolutely not.

Without thinking, she stood up.

Emily blinked. "Wilson?"

Wilson barely heard her. "Excuse me."she said to her and walked across the cafeteria, each step deliberate, measured, unstoppable.

When she reached Stella's table, Damien looked up, surprised. 

Stella, however, wasn't surprised at all.

Their eyes locked, and for a brief moment, the tension between them crackled like electricity.

Wilson shifted her gaze to the tray. "You can't eat this."

Stella arched her brow. "Excuse me?"

Wilson didn't blink. "You had surgery. You're on a strict diet. Greasy food will slow your recovery. High fat, high sugar? That's a no."

Damien frowned. "She's fine. The doctors cleared her for soft foods."

Wilson's gaze turned sharp. "I am one of her doctors."

Damien opened his mouth, but Stella raised a hand, stopping him.

Her eyes never left Wilson's.

"What do you suggest I eat, Dr. Wilson?" Her voice was teasing, challenging.

Wilson leaned down slightly, closing the space between them.

"Something light. Nutrient-rich. Easy on your system." Her voice was lower now, softer. "Let me order for you."

The world around them faded.

For a second, it was just them.

Damien shifted uncomfortably. "She's capable of choosing her own food."

Wilson finally looked at him. "And yet, she didn't."

She turned back to Stella. "Wait here."

Stella didn't say a word. She just… watched her go.

And for the first time that morning, she smiled.

Wilson didn't look back as she walked toward the food counter.

She knew Stella was watching her. She could feel it.

Her heart was pounding, but her face remained composed.

She ordered something healthier—a light vegetable soup, grilled chicken, and a fruit smoothie. Something Stella's body actually needed.

The cashier handed her the tray, and Wilson carried it back to the table.

Without a word, she placed it in front of Stella.

Their eyes met again. Something passed between them. Something unspoken.

"Eat this," Wilson said, her voice calm but firm.

Stella hesitated. "You're bossy, you know that?"

Wilson smirked slightly. "I'm a doctor."

Damien, clearly irritated, leaned back in his chair. "She didn't ask you to do this."

Wilson finally looked at him. "She didn't have to."

And with that, she turned and walked away.

Stella watched her go. For some reason, she suddenly felt cold.

Her fingers tightened around the spoon, but she didn't eat.

Her mind was too busy replaying the moment.

Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw someone following Wilson.

Emily.

Stella's grip on the spoon tightened.

Who was she?

A friend? A colleague? Something more?

She hated that she cared. Why do I care?

Stella almost stood up to follow them.

But before she could, Damien reached for her hand.

"Hey."

She turned to him, blinking. "What?"

His expression softened. "I feel like I've lost you for a moment."

She forced a smile. "I'm right here."

But as she spoke, her eyes drifted back to the door Wilson had disappeared through.

DISTRACTION & JEALOUSY 

Emily caught up to Wilson just as she stepped out of the cafeteria.

"Wilson!"

Wilson slowed her pace but didn't stop. "Yes?"

Emily fell into step beside her, her voice softer this time. "It's been a while."

Wilson didn't respond. A year. A year since she changed her number, blocked every trace of Emily, and buried the past where it belonged.

But apparently, the past wasn't done with her.

Emily offered a small, hesitant smile. "You never told me your new number."

Wilson finally glanced at her. "There was a reason for that."

Emily winced but kept walking. "I get it. I do. But… Can we at least be friends?"

Wilson let out a slow breath, her jaw tightening. Friends. Like that could erase the betrayal, the nights she spent wondering why she wasn't enough.

Emily must have sensed the hesitation because she quickly added, "No pressure. I just—I'd like to know you again. Even if it's just as a friend."

Wilson stopped walking, looking at Emily for a long moment.

Then, without a word, she pulled out her phone and handed it over. "Put your number in."

Emily blinked, surprised, before quickly typing it in. When she handed the phone back, her fingers lightly brushed Wilson's.

"Thank you," Emily said, voice barely above a whisper. "I'll text you."

She hesitated for a second, then took a deep breath. "Actually… would you want to grab a drink tonight? Just to catch up. No expectations, I promise."

Wilson hesitated.

Emily smiled, tilting her head. "Unless you want there to be."

Wilson sighed, slipping her phone back into her pocket. "Just drinks."

Emily grinned. "Just drinks. I'll text you the time and place."

Wilson gave a small nod before turning and walking away, ignoring the way Emily's gaze lingered on her.

Meanwhile… 

Stella barely heard a word Damien was saying.

She was too busy searching.

Her fingers hovered over her phone screen, typing one name into Instagram.

Ellah Wilson.

Nothing.

She tried another. Dr. Wilson Ellah.

Still nothing.

Frustrated, she searched just for Wilson Ellah.

And there she was.

The profile picture was simple—a professional headshot in her lab coat.

100 posts.

Sweet simple bio and with over 100k followers.

Stella tapped on the profile, debating whether to follow.

"Stella?"

Damien's voice pulled her back.

She looked up, realizing he had been talking this whole time.

She had no idea what he had just said.

He sighed. "You're not listening."

She forced a smile, putting her phone down. "Sorry. What were you saying?"

Damien studied her for a moment, then leaned back. "Never mind."

But as Stella picked up her fork, her eyes drifted back to her phone screen.

And for some reason, the thought of Wilson being with another woman at the cafeteria made her chest tightened