Love in the ER

CHAPTER 40

Weeks had passed, and things between Paris and Oliver remained strained. Oliver had been relentless in his attempts to ask for forgiveness, to explain what had really happened with Denise, but Paris avoided him at every turn. No matter what he said or how hard he tried, she kept her distance. Every time they crossed paths at work, she would turn the other way, refusing to meet his eyes.

Meanwhile, Matteo had been there for Paris. He had taken every opportunity to show her that he was the "better man," constantly reminding her that he would never hurt her like Oliver had. And though Paris couldn't deny that Matteo was a good man, and his presence had been comforting during these difficult weeks, she couldn't shake the truth that lingered in her heart—she didn't love Matteo. No matter how hard she tried, she simply couldn't force herself to feel something that wasn't there.

The more Matteo pushed, the more conflicted Paris felt. It wasn't fair to him, and it wasn't fair to her, but her heart still belonged to Oliver, even if she didn't know how to handle the pain he had caused. And it hurt even more seeing Denise every day at the hospital, her pregnancy now obvious, her belly growing more visible. Denise never missed an opportunity to drop by Oliver's office or find some reason to visit him, making sure her presence was felt by everyone—especially Paris.

The tension had been building for two months, with Paris feeling more confused than ever. Matteo's steady presence, Oliver's desperation for forgiveness, and the constant reminder of Denise had left Paris emotionally exhausted.

It was late, and Paris was just finishing up her night shift at the hospital. Clara had joined her on the shift, and the two of them walked out together, the cool night air hitting their faces as they stepped into the dark parking lot. Paris was ready to go home, feeling drained from the long hours and the emotional turmoil that seemed to follow her everywhere.

"I've already called a cab, so I'll just wait here," Paris said, giving Clara a tired smile. "You can go ahead. I'll see you tomorrow."

Clara gave her a quick hug, her eyes filled with concern. "Take care of yourself, okay? And... don't let Matteo pressure you into anything. You've been through enough."

Paris nodded, appreciating Clara's words of support. "Thanks. I'll be fine. See you."

Clara waved and headed toward her car, leaving Paris standing alone under the dim streetlight. She checked her phone, glancing at the screen to see how far away her cab was, but just as she looked up, she noticed something strange—a van pulling into the parking lot, moving slowly.

A chill ran down her spine as the van came to a stop a few feet away from her. Before she could react, the doors swung open, and a group of men jumped out, rushing toward her. Panic surged through her body as they grabbed her arms, dragging her toward the van.

"Help!" Paris screamed, desperately trying to fight them off. "Somebody help me!"

Her heart pounded in her chest as she struggled against their grip, but the men were strong, overpowering her as they shoved her closer to the van. Fear clawed at her throat, and she could barely breathe, her mind racing as she tried to figure out what was happening.

Just when Paris thought it was over, a figure appeared from the shadows—a man. He looked exactly like her father.

Paris froze, her breath catching in her throat as she stared at him, disbelief washing over her. Her father? How could it be?

The man didn't hesitate. He lunged at the group of men, fighting them off with swift, powerful blows. In seconds, he had overpowered them, sending them scattering as they retreated into the van and sped away, leaving Paris standing there, trembling and in shock.

The man turned to her, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. His face—so familiar, yet slightly different from the father she remembered—was filled with concern as he approached her.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice deep and rough, but with an unmistakable hint of familiarity.

Paris took a shaky breath, still reeling from what had just happened. "Dad?" she whispered, her voice trembling. "Is that you?"

The man shook his head slowly, his eyes filled with something like sadness. "I'm not your father, Paris."

Paris blinked, her mind spinning as she tried to make sense of his words. "What... What do you mean? You look exactly like him."

The man nodded, his expression serious. "That's because I'm his twin brother." He hesitated for a moment before adding, "Your uncle."

Paris's mind went blank for a moment. "Twin... brother?" she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper. She had never heard of her father having a twin brother. Her father had never mentioned it, not once in all the years they had been together as a family.

The man nodded again, glancing around to make sure they were alone. "Yes, I'm your father's twin. We need to talk. There are things you don't know—things your father never told you."

Paris's heart raced as a million questions flooded her mind. Who was this man? Why had her father never told her about him? And more importantly, what had just happened? Why had those men tried to take her?

She took a step back, her legs trembling. "What's going on? Why were those men after me? And why are you just showing up now?"

Her uncle—the man who looked exactly like her father—let out a slow breath, his eyes filled with a mix of regret and urgency. "There's a lot you don't know, Paris. About your father, about our family. I'm sorry this is all happening now, but it's time you learned the truth."

Paris felt dizzy, her mind reeling from the events of the night. Her father's twin? Men trying to kidnap her? And now, her uncle telling her that there were secrets about her family she had never known? It was too much to process.

"We need to get out of here before those men come back," her uncle said, his voice tense. "I'll explain everything, but right now, it's not safe. Come with me."

Paris hesitated, fear and confusion swirling inside her. She didn't know if she could trust him—this man who looked so much like her father but had never been part of her life. But after everything that had just happened, she knew one thing for sure: she needed answers.

Taking a deep breath, Paris nodded. "Okay. Let's go."

As they disappeared into the night, Paris's mind raced with the possibilities of what her uncle was about to reveal. Her life was about to change forever—in ways she couldn't have imagined.