Love in the ER

CHAPTER 38

It was late afternoon, and Oliver was sitting in his office, reviewing patient files. His mind had been restless all day—thoughts of Paris, his father's disapproval, and the looming presence of Denise gnawed at him constantly. He was doing his best to keep everything together, but the tension in his life was starting to build in ways he could no longer ignore.

Just as he was about to get up for a quick break, there was a knock at the door. Before he could respond, the door swung open, and Denise stepped inside with a sly smile on her face.

"Denise, what are you doing here?" Oliver asked, frowning as he stood up from behind his desk. His tone was sharp, immediately on edge.

Denise closed the door behind her and sauntered toward him, her eyes gleaming with something far too familiar. "I just thought we could... talk." Her voice was low and flirtatious, sending a chill down Oliver's spine.

"We don't have anything to talk about," Oliver said, stepping back slightly. "You know that."

Denise didn't stop. She kept walking toward him, her lips curling into a smirk. "I think we do, Oliver. We have a lot to discuss... about the baby... about us."

Oliver's eyes narrowed. "There is no 'us,' Denise. There hasn't been for a long time." He moved to put some distance between them, but Denise reached out, grabbing his arm and stepping closer, her face inches from his.

Before Oliver could react, Denise leaned in and pressed her lips to his, trying to catch him off guard. For a split second, Oliver froze, caught in the moment, shocked by the suddenness of her move. But as soon as he processed what was happening, he quickly pulled back, trying to push her away.

"What the hell are you doing?" Oliver said angrily, stepping back, his hands raised in defense.

"Oh, come on, Oliver," Denise purred, still smiling despite his rejection. "You know there's still something between us."

But before Oliver could respond, the door to his office opened again.

Paris stood frozen in the doorway, her face pale as her wide eyes took in the scene—Denise standing far too close to Oliver, their confrontation, and worst of all, the kiss she had just witnessed.

For a moment, the room was filled with stunned silence. Paris's heart dropped, her chest tightening painfully as tears welled up in her eyes. It felt like the ground had been pulled out from under her.

"Paris, wait," Oliver said, his voice frantic as he took a step toward her, his heart pounding in his chest. "This isn't what it looks like. She—"

But Paris didn't wait to hear his explanation. She didn't want to hear it. The image of Denise kissing him was burned into her mind, and the betrayal cut deep. Without another word, she turned and bolted from the office, her heart racing as she fled down the hallway, tears stinging her eyes.

Oliver called after her, but Denise stepped in front of him, blocking his path.

"You need to go after her, Denise," Oliver snapped, his eyes blazing with anger as he tried to push past her.

Denise smirked, clearly pleased with the chaos she had caused. "She's not going to listen to you. Just let her go. She'll get over it."

Oliver's hands clenched into fists as rage surged through him. "Get out of my way, Denise."

With a satisfied smile, Denise finally stepped aside, watching as Oliver rushed out the door in a desperate attempt to find Paris.

Paris ran down the hospital hallways, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Her mind was spinning, her heart shattered. She couldn't believe what she had just seen—Oliver, the man she loved, kissing Denise. It felt like the ultimate betrayal, and no matter what explanation he tried to give, she wasn't sure she could get past it.

Just as she rounded a corner, she almost collided with someone—Matteo.

"Paris!" Matteo exclaimed, reaching out to steady her. His eyes immediately filled with concern when he saw the tears streaming down her face. "What happened? What's wrong?"

Paris shook her head, unable to form the words as she tried to wipe away her tears. Her chest felt tight, and she could barely breathe.

Matteo's eyes darkened with anger as he quickly pieced together what must have happened. "It's Oliver, isn't it? He hurt you, didn't he?"

Paris sniffled, her voice barely a whisper. "I saw them... him and Denise."

Matteo's jaw tightened, his anger flaring. He had always suspected that Oliver wasn't good enough for Paris, and now, this only confirmed it in his mind. Without thinking, he pulled Paris into a hug, holding her tightly as she cried into his shoulder.

"I'm so sorry, Paris," Matteo whispered, his voice filled with a mix of sympathy and frustration. "I told you he'd hurt you. You deserve so much better than this."

Paris didn't pull away, too heartbroken to care about anything other than the pain she was feeling. She let Matteo hold her, finding some small comfort in the warmth of his embrace.

But just as she started to calm down, she heard footsteps approaching rapidly. She turned just in time to see Oliver storming down the hallway, his eyes wild with panic—only for his expression to darken when he saw Matteo holding Paris.

"Get away from her, Matteo," Oliver growled, his voice low and dangerous.

Matteo didn't let go of Paris. Instead, he glared at Oliver, his anger clear. "You don't get to tell me what to do, Oliver. You've already done enough damage."

Oliver's hands clenched into fists as he stepped closer, his eyes blazing with fury. "This isn't about you, Matteo. This is between me and Paris. Let her go."

Matteo narrowed his eyes, his voice mocking. "Oh, so now you care? After she saw you kissing Denise? You don't deserve her, Oliver. You never did."

Paris stood between them, her heart pounding as the tension in the air grew thick. She didn't want this. She didn't want a fight.

"Stop it, both of you," Paris said, her voice trembling as she tried to push Matteo away gently. "This isn't helping."

But Oliver had already lost control of his temper. Without another word, he lunged forward, shoving Matteo hard. Matteo stumbled backward, his eyes flashing with rage before he straightened up and threw a punch.

The hit connected with Oliver's jaw, sending him stumbling back a step. But Oliver quickly recovered, and before Paris could stop them, the two men were grappling with each other, fists flying in a heated brawl.

"Stop! Please, stop!" Paris cried out, trying to get between them, but they were too caught up in the fight to listen.

In the chaos of the scuffle, hospital staff rushed over to break them apart, but not before Matteo threw another punch that narrowly missed Oliver's face.

Finally, the two men were pulled away from each other, both breathing heavily, their faces flushed with anger.

Oliver glared at Matteo, his chest heaving. "Stay away from her. She's mine."

Matteo wiped the blood from the corner of his lip, his eyes still filled with hatred. "Not anymore, Oliver. You just proved that."

Paris stood frozen, her heart racing as she looked between the two men, tears still streaming down her face. She didn't know what to say, what to do. Everything felt like it was falling apart.

"I... I need to go," Paris whispered, her voice breaking as she turned and ran off down the hallway, leaving both men behind