Prologue
Dr. Carmelita Luciana Vega Jonas
Ever since childhood, I knew I was attracted to boys. I had crushes in elementary school and flings in medical school. I avoided dating during high school and college because I was only thirteen when I began my pre-med coursework. I owed this early start to a high IQ and my parents’ spectacular genetics.
It wasn’t fun being ahead of my peers. Attending college as a prepubescent teen surrounded by older students was lonely; who would want to be friends with me? Furthermore, I became the target of immature assholes, mostly from fraternities.
Those four years were hell, yet they were crucial because I started noticing girls. I noticed the way their shirts shaped their bodies, the pleasant sound of their giggles, the beauty of their smiles, and the distinct pulse between my legs at the thought of kissing them.
I didn’t give it much thought at first, assuming it was normal for a “straight” person. That changed when I confided in Madison about how I felt whenever I saw a girl I liked on campus. I expected her to say she felt the same way, but she told me I was both smart and dumb—it wasn’t just a girl crush.
She suggested I might like girls, too.
Panic set in. How could I like girls when I had only liked boys growing up? In the middle of a full-blown crisis, I told my parents. They sat me down at the dinner table. Mom and Dad provided a safe space, as they always did, and I started talking without prompting. I confessed everything I thought was “normal” for a girl only attracted to men, and explained my deep confusion.
When I finished speaking, they didn’t call me a mistake. Instead, they responded with patience, compassion, and love, showing zero judgment. They assured me there was nothing wrong with liking both men and women. No matter who I loved, they promised to love and support me.
They discussed other identities with me, explaining that my current confusion was fine. I had my whole life to explore and discover myself. Once I did, they warned me never to hate or hide the person I became. They encouraged me to take pride in who I am.
Overwhelmed with relief, I cried and hugged them tight. They stayed true to their word, standing by my side as I discovered myself over the years.
Today, I can proudly say that I am Carmelita Luciana Vega Jonas, and I am bisexual.
People talk, but the only opinions I value are those of my parents, cousins, aunt, and uncle—the most supportive family I could ask for. When I came out to my cousin Simon, he showed his nerdy support by offering to hack a dating app to make all the girls match with me.
I laughed it off. I didn’t need a dating app because I am beautiful and hot. I don’t approach people; they approach me.
Now that I am a government agent and spy for the Chief, relationships are forbidden—except for flings and physical attachments. It is part of the contract I signed under W-1716. I was fine with the arrangement. I never caught feelings for anyone until her.
Lying in my on-call room, I let out a dry laugh. I had just finished an exhausting surgery and should be asleep, yet here I am, thinking about the one person I must avoid.
Over the three years since Alejandro’s case brought Peyton into my life, I have been with other people, trying to bury these forbidden feelings. Whenever I flirt or hook up with someone else, I feel fine. The distraction creates the illusion that I am over her. But when night falls and I am alone, she lingers in my mind, bringing toxic “what-ifs.”
What if we had met before she met Ivanov? Would things have turned out in our favor?
I sighed.
We never had an affair. To her, we were close friends. To me, I was a complete idiot.
I swallowed a bitter lump, recalling the day she discovered my feelings.
“Can we not do this here, Peyton?” I said upon entering the apartment I shared with Miguel. I prayed he wasn’t home.
I squeezed my eyes shut as she closed the door behind us. I wanted her to leave me alone.
“We are certainly doing this here,” she replied. “I stopped by the hospital multiple times, and your residents hid you every single visit. If I hadn’t waited in the parking lot, I never would have caught you.”
“They weren’t hiding—”
“Oh, really? When I asked the doctor with short hair, she said you were in your call room. Then I asked someone in the hallway, and he claimed you were in surgery. What are you, a magician in two places at once?” she demanded. “They couldn’t look me in the eye. I am a lawyer; I know bullshit when I hear it.”
I sighed and faced her. Fuck, I shouldn’t have looked. Wearing her court suit, she looked dashing and professional. Her sharp eyes locked onto mine, and her beautiful, full lips pressed into a thin line. Her patience hung by a thread.
“Look, I’ve been working day and night. If you don’t need anything else, leave—”
“I’m not leaving. I need you to talk to me. Tell me, did I do something to upset you?” Her tone softened, and she stepped toward me.
God, I hated her for this. I hated how caring and sweet she was as a friend, completely oblivious to the effect it had on me.
I inhaled a sharp breath when her hand cupped my cheek.
A single touch sent my system haywire. Jesus.
She shouldn’t touch me; it sparked feelings I had no right to entertain. I wanted to push her hand away, but I yearned for her touch too much. This was the first time we had stood this close in weeks, given my constant avoidance.
“You won’t even look at me, Carmelita. I don’t know what happened. Ever since I got married, you grew cold. I couldn’t ask what was wrong because you kept avoiding me or leaving the country. I thought it was just work. I thought you were busy. But then you couldn’t even meet my eyes in Tagaytay. For fuck’s sake, you’ve ignored me for months.” Her gaze remained fixed on me.
I felt like an asshole for treating her that way, but distancing myself was my only survival mechanism after her wedding. The avoidance accomplished nothing. Hearing her mention her marriage aloud sparked fresh anger in my chest.
I didn’t want to picture her with him. The thought hurt too much.
I refused to let her see my pain. “Sorry to break it to you, but I’m just busy—”
“Bullshit, Carmelita. I’m not stupid. Tell me what’s wrong right now.”
Carmelita. Breathe. Don’t.
Push her away.
It was too late. Before I could stop myself, I snapped, “Fine.”
I peeled her hand off my face.
“You want to know what’s wrong?” I demanded.
“Please.”
I let out a bitter laugh.
“I am hopelessly fucking in love with you. That’s what’s wrong.”
Her eyes widened, and her mouth fell open.
“What?” she breathed in disbelief.
“I had no intention of telling you, but you insisted. So there it is. I thought I could be happy for you, but holy shit, seeing you in white, looking so happy with him, made me want to die.” My heart ached, and tears slipped down my cheeks.
“Carmelita—”
Miguel walked in. The look on his face proved he had heard everything. Fuck.
“You saw and heard nothing, Miguel,” I glared. He nodded and rushed out with his belongings.
The door slammed shut, leaving us in silence. She stared at me, sheer shock etched across her features.
“Now you know. Leave,” I rasped, collapsing onto the couch. I scrubbed my hands over my tired face while she remained standing. I could still feel the weight of her stare.
“Carmelita...” I glanced up to see her cover her mouth with her hand.
“That’s ludicrous. You encouraged Ivanov to work out his issues, and you helped him propose to me.” She jabbed a finger at her chest.
I offered a bitter smile, my vision blurring with fresh tears.
“Because I knew you loved him. You deserved the best man I could never be,” I replied, tears streaming down my face.
Her eyes glistened.
“Carmelita,” she whispered, at a total loss for words.
“Get out, please,” I begged. “Stop showing up. Just go.”
I wiped my soaked cheeks with the sleeve of my white coat.
Months had passed since that confrontation. I should have moved on, yet I remained stuck on her. I haven’t slept with anyone since, turning into absolute ice toward the rest of the world.
I refuse to risk casual flirting for fun or stress relief. It might evolve into something deeper, just like it did with her.
I have no desire to love anyone else. My heart is an idiot when choosing who to fall for.
