The Love She Craved

"Clayton Bradford will be coming tonight," Mr. Hilton said while they were having lunch. 

Olivia's temples scrunched into a frown. It was the first time she had heard the name.

Mrs. Hilton dabbed her mouth with a napkin. 

"Clayton is from one of the most prestigious families in the country. His father, Grey Bradford, is a wealthy business entrepreneur. His mother, Lily Bradford, owns a chain of hotels and restaurants worldwide. Clayton and Caroline were arranged to get married."

"He's eighteen now," Mr. Hilton added, his voice carrying a note of pride. "Already running several of his family's businesses. But I heard he's trying to convince his father to join the military."

Mr. Hilton turned to his wife. "Is it okay for him to meet Olivia?"

Mrs. Hilton shrugged. "Why not? Olivia's going to be his wife anyway when she turns a right age."

Olivia dropped her spoon. But her adoptive parents didn't seem to notice. She pushed her food around the plate, no longer hungry.

"May I be excused?" she asked politely.

Her adoptive mother lifted a hand, signaling she could leave and didn't even look at her.

Olivia slowly made her way out of the dining area. When she was out of sight she dashed into her room.

In the hallway, a deep voice called out, "Caroline!"

She looked at the man and swore he was the most handsome man she had ever laid eyes on.

"I thought I would never see you again." The longing in his voice was evident when he pulled her into his arms. His chest was warm against her cheek, and she could hear his heart beating fast. This was how it felt to be held by someone who loved you, she thought.

But the beautiful moment shattered when she lifted her face. Clayton's dark eyes met hers and his arms dropped away as if she burned him.

The hate in his eyes was something she hadn't seen on anyone before.

"I-I'm sorry," she whispered, looking down on the floor.

Clayton's hands, which had held her so tenderly moments ago thinking she was Caroline, were now balled into fists at his sides.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

"Olivia," she answered softly. "The Hiltons adopted me from an orphanage."

A harsh laugh escaped his throat "Caroline's been gone barely a year and they've already found someone to take her place?"

"Look at me," he commanded. When she didn't, his hand caught her chin, forcing her face up. His touch wasn't gentle anymore. "You are crazy if you think you could ever replace her."

He straightened his jacket and walked past her as if she were invisible.

Olivia waited until his footsteps faded before she ran to her room—no, Caroline's room. Everything in it still belonged to her, the room, the clothes and shoes, and even Clayton, her future husband.

-

14 years later.

"CODE RED. CODE RED. DR. HILTON TO EMERGENCY."

"Not now," Olivia whispered, pushing herself up, regret flash in her eyes as she eyed her coffee.

She practically sprinted through the hallway in an unladylike manner that would make Mrs. Hilton faint in horror if she saw her. Slightly out of breath, the familiar chaos in the ER greeted her.

"What do we have?" she called out to Nurse Jessy, whose face lit up in an instant at the sight of her.

"Male patient. Estimated to be 20-25 years old. Motorcycle crash. He wasn't wearing a helmet when the accident happened and received a blow to the head."

"May I see the CT scan results?"

Nurse Jessy handed her the clipboard. Olivia briefly looked at the patient on the bed before shifting them back to the file in her hand. She flipped through the pages and shook her head. The results showed a fractured skull, with a portion of the skull pushed inward.

"Prep OR 1," she commanded, surprising herself with how steady her voice sounded, considering this would be her first solo operation. Sure, the head neurosurgeon would be there, but she would be leading.

Her hands started to shake a little, but she stilled them. This young man's life depended on her now.

"I'll get the team ready," Nurse Jessy rushed to the door.

A short while later, Olivia had scrubbed in. She was standing at the operating table. Dr. Wilson, the expert neurosurgeon, was behind her, ensuring the operation flowed smoothly.

"Stay focused. Remember, you're in control." She repeated Dr. Wilson's words in her head like a mantra.

Olivia took a deep breath.

She could hear everything. The sounds of the operating room, the beeping of monitors, and even her own heartbeat. She was hyper-aware of every detail.

She was ready.

"Let's begin."

"Scalpel."

The scrub nurse handed the instrument into her outstretched hand. This was the moment she had trained for.

Olivia made the initial incision. She took a good look at the damaged area, and before she knew it, her hands moved like they had minds of their own. She forgot everything in the world; all that mattered to her was saving the patient.

A few hours later, Olivia felt as if a massive thorn had been removed from her chest when she heard the steady beeping of the heart monitor.

The surgery was done. She had managed to save the man's life. Her shoulders sagged with relief as she stepped back from the operating table, letting the nurses begin their post-operation procedures.

She scrubbed out before making her way out of the operating room.

Around afternoon, Olivia had just returned from her break when she entered the hospital and noticed the commotion in the lobby. She wondered if a celebrity had come to visit, something that often happened at the hospital. 

"Olivia!"

She stopped in her tracks. Deep, rich, and achingly familiar. It was a voice she hadn't heard in a long time.

She turned slowly, and there he stood—Clayton Bradford in his military uniform. No longer the young man who stole her heart, 14 years wasn't enough to make her forget.

His shoulders were broader, his stance confident. The years had carved away the softness of youth, leaving behind a jaw so perfect it might have been sculpted by the finest artist. There was now a small scar near his left eyebrow, but it didn't detract from his striking features. Instead, it seemed to add to his appeal. His hair, which used to be long, was now cut military-short, but his eyes—those penetrating eyes—were exactly as she remembered.

"Clayton," she whispered, but she couldn't move. She couldn't stop staring.

He cleared his throat and held out a bouquet of red and white roses. Her heart squeezed painfully as she took them. They were beautiful, but all she could think was that he had given them out of obligation because, probably, Mrs. Bradford had pestered him again.

"Thank you," she mumbled, hating how her fingers trembled as they brushed against his.

He reached into his uniform pocket and pulled out a cream-colored envelope. "Here. It's an invitation. For my birthday tomorrow."

Olivia stared at the envelope.

"Mom's been... persistent," Clayton continued, running a hand through his short hair. "She calls every day asking if I've invited you yet. Says it wouldn't be right to have the party without you there."

"I see," she said. The bitterness in her voice surprised her. She remembered all those nights she'd cried herself to sleep, waiting for letters that never came, hoping for calls that were never made.

"I should get back to work," she said, stepping back. "Thank you for the invitation. I'll... I'll check my schedule and see if I can attend."

"Olivia..." He called her name as though he wanted to say something but then shut himself up again.

"Dr. Hilton," she corrected him firmly. "It's Dr. Hilton now, Captain Bradford."

She saw some emotion flash across his face, an emotion she still failed to name even after half a decade.

"Right," he said stiffly. "Dr. Hilton. I apologize for taking up your time."

He turned to leave, his back straight and rigid. Just before he reached the door, he paused. "I... I hope you can make it."

Then he was gone, leaving her standing there with an armful of flowers and an invitation she wanted to tear to pieces.

Clayton had turned from a young man to a respected Captain. 

He subdued foreign nationals who had hijacked a commercial aircraft and piloted the plane when the pilot got injured, saving 400 passengers from plummeting to their deaths.

He stopped a terrorist attack and saved an elderly man by protecting him with his body. Olivia remembered crying her eyes out that night, thinking he would die because of the extent of his injuries, but somehow he survived, and she thanked God every single day for it.

He's now different from the Clayton Bradford she used to know, but one thing remained the same; he was still the man who made her heart unable to let go.