She placed the hospital's phone numbly back into its cradle. Tears were stinging the back of her eyes. She could not allow herself to cry here, not in front of everyone this way.

She walked swiftly down the corridor to where the doctors had their offices. As soon as she was alone, a horrific sob burst forth from her throat robbing her body of air.

She did not understand why she was so upset, she had spent more than half of her life hating her mother. Why did it matter now that she was dead? Her mother had been dead to her for a long time.

"Beth? Are you alright?"

Her head snapped up to see Dr. Cullen stepping out of his office. Every time she has ever seen him, he has stolen the breath from her body. Pale as a marble statue with a shock of blonde hair, and warm, golden eyes, he is the most beautiful man she has ever seen. And now those strange gold eyes were looking at her with genuine concern.

She brusquely wiped the tears from her cheeks. "I'm sorry, Dr. Cullen. I didn't mean to disturb you."

"Not at all. I just wanted to make sure you are alright." Again, those beautiful eyes were searching her face, his concern was breaking her heart.

"I'll be fine, thank you. I'll just get back to work now." She started to turn away but he stopped her.

"Well, why don't you step into my office while you compose yourself? I know that you wouldn't want the others to see you upset." He smiled softly.

He was always so perceptive. It seemed like everything she did he had already expected. He knew her too well, and yet she knew next to nothing about him.

She had been working with him for four years. She was the nurse he most often requested during his surgeries. He appreciated her work ethic, her quiet calm in the operating room, and the mysterious way she seemed to be able to comfort even the most incensed patients. In turn, she appreciated his vast knowledge, his beauty, and his unfailing kindness.

Finally, she nodded her head, "Thank you, Dr. Cullen."

He stepped aside and guided her into his office with a light hand on her back. She felt his cold touch through the thin fabric of her scrubs, but she was used to it now. It no longer made her jump when his skin touched hers. Pathetically, she stored away these few close moments with him and relived them when she found herself all alone again at the end of the day. Somehow, it made her feel less lonely.

She walked into his office and sat down in one of the two uncomfortable looking chairs in front of his desk. Dr. Cullen surprised her by sitting in the chair beside her, instead of his comfy, leather chair behind the desk.

She studied the pattern of the beige carpet at her feet, his stare as disconcerting as it was kind. After what seemed a long time, Dr. Cullen cleared his throat and said, "Beth, would you like to talk about it? I can assure you, you have my confidence."

"Yes, I know that." She said as tears started to stab at the corner of her eyes, "I know that you would never tell anyone, it's just…"

She trailed off and Dr. Cullen waited patiently for her to begin again. Finally, she sputtered, "It's just, well, I don't want to burden you. And I don't want you to look at me differently afterwards."

Dr. Cullen responded, "Well, of course you don't have to tell me, but I assure you there's nothing you could say to change my perception of you. And you won't burden me either, I enjoy helping others, remember?"

He smiled encouragingly at Beth and she tried to smile back, but it was more like a grimace.

She sighed and turned her head away from him, "My mother died today."

Dr. Cullen placed his hand lightly on her arm and said, "Oh, Beth, I am so sorry."

She became distracted by the cold, tingling sensation his touch inspired. She felt guilty for wanting his touch the way she did, she knew he had a wife. She knew he loved her more than anyone in the world. Beth was so used to being unloved that she didn't even feel jealous of his wife, Esme. She was just happy that he could be so happy.

He noticed her gaze on his hand and pulled his hand back. He'd interpreted her dark look wrongly, he thought she didn't like his cold skin. She wished she could pull his hand back, but she resisted.

Finally she said, "Don't be sorry. I hated her."

A surprised expression crossed his face briefly, but he easily regained control of his features. He had never heard her say she even disliked someone, much less hated someone. That this someone was her mother was very intriguing.

She felt compelled to explain herself to him, to show him she wasn't a bad person, but she was afraid. Once she told him she could never take it back. If she told him, he would always know her on an intimate level. And he might be horrified by what he would see.

She peeked to the side to measure his gaze, he was still looking at her so compassionately, and yet also expectantly. She sighed, "My mother has been in the mental hospital since I was eight years old. She, well, she did something horrible and has been locked up ever since."

She waited expectantly for him to excuse himself or to make some excuse about how he needed to go back to work. But he sat very still, almost too still, waiting for her to continue.

"She killed my little brother. Drowned him in the bathtub. He was only six-years-old. She tried to kill me too, but my dad came home in time to keep her from strangling me. She said she was protecting us, that after we were dead no one could hurt us anymore. She considered what she did as a kind of heroic action."

I scoffed at my own memory as an anger welled up within me, "Six months after she was put in the hospital for the criminally insane, my father committed suicide."

Dr. Cullen's piercing stare was heartbreaking in the way he openly mourned with her. His hand returned to curl around mine. He murmured, "Beth, I am so terribly sorry. No one deserves to go through something so horrible, especially an innocent girl."

"You want to know the worst part?" She said with her voice breaking, "I spent my whole life hating her, pretending that she was dead too. But now that she really is dead, I've realized that I am all alone. Now that she's dead, no one would even care if I ceased to exist. I have no one now."

Beth was sobbing openly now and Dr. Cullen's frozen fingers tightened around her hand. He tried to soothe her with shushing sounds, but that only made her cry harder. His other hand rubbed her back in circles and Beth had to resist the urge to go jumping into his lap.

He whispered to her, "That's not true, Beth. I would care if you ceased to exist. You are not alone. You have people who care about you."

"Do I?" she responded. "Because you are the only person I've ever felt compelled to tell my story. I've never had close friends. Not since I was eight years old. No one even knows who I am beyond my name and my occupation."

"I know who you are. That's more than nothing, isn't it?"

Everything in Dr. Cullen's face made her want to believe this so desperately. But she knew better than to have hope. Hope failed you. It punished those who believed.

She chose not to believe. She released Dr. Cullen's hand and abruptly stood up. She wiped the tears from her eyes and said, "I'm sorry, Dr. Cullen. I've wasted enough of your time. We have to be in surgery soon, so I better get back to work."

She walked stiffly to the door and Dr. Cullen called to her, "I'll be here for you, Beth, if you ever want to confide in me again."

"Thank you, Dr. Cullen." She said coldly, "But I believe I've taken up quite enough of your time."

She walked out of his office and was torn between relief and overwhelming loneliness. She wanted so desperately to be close to him, but she knew it was more than she could hope for. He didn't need her the way she needed him, and so for that reason she knew she could never let herself love him.