Novel : Hope & Heartbeats

CHAPTER 03

Medical school was nothing like Kenna had imagined. It wasn’t just challenging—it was overwhelming. The lectures were long, the textbooks endless, and the pressure to excel felt suffocating. Every day, she woke up before dawn and returned to her tiny rented room late at night, exhausted but determined. She missed her family, her students, and the simplicity of her old life. But most of all, she missed the quiet moments when Barron James would appear unexpectedly, offering words of encouragement that lingered in her mind long after he was gone.

She hadn’t contacted him since leaving for medical school—not because she didn’t want to, but because she didn’t know what to say. What could she possibly tell a man who had done so much for her without asking for anything in return? A man whose kindness bordered on something deeper, something she wasn’t ready to confront?

Still, she thought about him often. Sometimes, during late-night study sessions, she would pull out the note with his address and phone number, tracing the ink with her fingers as if it might reveal some hidden meaning. Other times, she would catch herself imagining what he was doing—whether he still visited St. Mary’s School, whether he ever thought about her.

One Friday afternoon, after a particularly grueling week of exams, Kenna decided to take a walk to clear her head. The city buzzed around her, cars honking and people rushing past, but she felt disconnected from it all. Her thoughts kept drifting back to Barron, to the way he had looked at her during their last conversation—the intensity in his eyes, the softness in his voice.

As she turned a corner near the university campus, she froze. Standing across the street, leaning casually against a lamppost, was none other than Barron James himself.

Her heart skipped a beat. For a moment, she thought she was hallucinating, that the stress of medical school had finally caught up with her. But no—he was real. He wore a dark coat over his usual suit, his hands tucked into his pockets, his gaze fixed intently on her.

“Mr. James?” she called out hesitantly, crossing the street toward him. “What are you doing here?”

Barron straightened up, a small smile playing on his lips. “I heard you’ve been working hard. Thought I’d check in.”

Kenna blinked, stunned. “You came all the way here… just to check on me?”

He shrugged, though there was a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes. “Someone has to make sure you’re taking care of yourself. You tend to forget that part.”

Kenna felt a lump rise in her throat. She wanted to laugh, to brush off his comment with a joke, but instead, she found herself fighting back tears. “I’m fine,” she said quickly, though her voice betrayed her. “Really.”

Barron raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “You don’t look fine. When was the last time you ate a proper meal? Or slept more than four hours?”

“I’m managing,” she replied defensively, though deep down, she knew he was right. Between classes, labs, and part-time work to support herself, she had neglected her own needs.

Barron sighed, stepping closer. “Kenna, you can’t pour from an empty cup. If you keep pushing yourself like this, you’ll burn out.”

His use of her first name again sent a shiver down her spine. It felt too personal, too intimate, and yet… not unwelcome. She looked away, focusing on the cracks in the pavement beneath her feet. “I don’t have a choice. If I stop now, everything I’ve worked for will fall apart.”

“You won’t fall apart,” he said firmly, his voice low and steady. “Not while I’m here.”

The words hung between them, heavy with unspoken meaning. Kenna’s breath hitched as she finally met his gaze. There was something in his eyes—something raw and tender—that made her stomach flip. Was it concern? Admiration? Or something else entirely?

“Why do you care so much?” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Why me?”

Barron hesitated, his jaw tightening slightly. For a moment, she thought he might actually answer the question that had been haunting her for months. Instead, he softened his expression and gave her a small, enigmatic smile. “Because you deserve someone who believes in you. Even if you don’t believe in yourself yet.”

Kenna swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her chest. She wanted to ask him more—to demand answers, to understand why he seemed so invested in her life—but she stopped herself. Now wasn’t the time. She couldn’t afford distractions, not when her future was on the line.

“Thank you,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. “For coming. For… everything.”

Barron nodded, his gaze lingering on her face for a moment longer than necessary. Then, with a slight bow of his head, he stepped back. “Take care of yourself, Kenna. And remember—you’re stronger than you think.”

As he walked away, disappearing into the crowd, Kenna stood rooted to the spot, her heart racing. She didn’t know what to make of their encounter—or the strange tension that had crackled between them—but one thing was certain: Barron James was unlike anyone she had ever met. And try as she might, she couldn’t stop thinking about him.

After Barron disappeared into the bustling crowd, Kenna remained frozen on the sidewalk, her mind racing. She clutched her bag tightly against her chest as if it could anchor her to reality. Her heart was pounding—not from exhaustion this time, but from something deeper, something she couldn’t quite name.

Why had he come? Why did he keep showing up in her life like a shadow she couldn’t shake off? And why did his presence make her feel so… unsettled?

She replayed their conversation in her head, dissecting every word, every glance. His tone had been gentle but firm, his eyes filled with an intensity that made her stomach twist. He hadn’t said anything explicitly romantic, but there was no denying the undercurrent of emotion between them—an unspoken connection that left her breathless and confused.

Kenna shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. Focus, she told herself sternly. You can’t afford distractions right now. Medical school was already hard enough without adding complicated feelings into the mix. Barron was just being kind, nothing more. That’s what she kept telling herself, anyway.

That night, Kenna lay awake in her tiny rented room, staring at the ceiling. The city outside buzzed with life—cars honking, distant laughter echoing through the streets—but inside, everything felt eerily quiet. Too quiet.

Her mind kept drifting back to Barron. To the way he had looked at her, as if she were the only person in the world who mattered. To the way his voice softened when he called her by her first name. To the way he seemed to know exactly what to say to make her feel both seen and vulnerable all at once.

“Because you deserve someone who believes in you.”

His words echoed in her mind, over and over again. No one had ever spoken to her like that before—with such conviction, such tenderness. Not even her own mother. It was unsettling, yes, but also… comforting. Like a warm blanket wrapped around her soul on a cold winter’s night.

But comfort wasn’t something she could afford right now. Comfort meant letting her guard down, and letting her guard down meant risking failure. She couldn’t risk failure—not when so much depended on her success.

The next morning, Kenna woke up early, determined to push Barron out of her mind. She threw herself into her studies with renewed vigor, attending lectures, reviewing notes, and practicing clinical skills in the lab. By mid-afternoon, she was physically and mentally drained, but she refused to stop. Stopping meant thinking, and thinking meant remembering.

As she sat in the library later that evening, surrounded by stacks of textbooks and loose papers, she heard a familiar voice behind her.

“Still working hard, I see.”

Kenna froze, her pen hovering above her notebook. Slowly, she turned around to find Barron standing there, holding two cups of coffee. He wore a sheepish smile, as if he knew he shouldn’t be there but couldn’t stay away.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice tinged with both surprise and irritation. “Again?”

Barron chuckled softly, setting one of the coffees down in front of her. “I brought you a peace offering. Figured you might need a break.”

Kenna stared at the steaming cup, torn between gratitude and frustration. “I don’t have time for breaks,” she muttered, though her hands instinctively reached for the coffee.

“You need to eat and sleep sometime,” Barron replied, pulling up a chair beside her. “Even superheroes recharge.”

“I’m not a superhero,” Kenna snapped, sharper than she intended. She immediately regretted her tone and sighed, rubbing her temples. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap. It’s just… this is important to me. Everything rides on this.”

“I know,” Barron said gently, his gaze steady. “And that’s exactly why you need to take care of yourself. You won’t be able to save anyone if you collapse halfway through.”

Kenna opened her mouth to argue, but the words died on her lips. Deep down, she knew he was right. She was running herself ragged, pushing her body and mind to their limits. But admitting that meant facing her own vulnerabilities—and she hated feeling vulnerable.

Instead, she focused on the coffee, taking a slow sip. It was perfect—rich and strong, just the way she liked it. “How did you know how I take my coffee?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Barron smirked, leaning back in his chair. “Lucky guess.”

Kenna rolled her eyes, but a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips. For a moment, the tension between them eased, replaced by a comfortable silence as they sat together in the dimly lit library.

After a while, Barron spoke again, his voice softer this time. “You know, Kenna, it’s okay to lean on people sometimes. You don’t have to do everything alone.”

Kenna stiffened, her fingers tightening around the coffee cup. “I’ve always done things alone,” she said quietly. “My family needed me to. There was no one else.”

“Well, maybe now there is,” Barron replied, his tone careful but firm. “Maybe now there’s someone who wants to help you carry the weight—for once.”

Kenna’s breath hitched, and she quickly looked away, focusing on the pages of her textbook. His words struck a chord deep within her, stirring emotions she had buried long ago. Loneliness. Longing. Hope.

But hope was dangerous. Hope meant opening herself up to disappointment, to pain. And she couldn’t afford either—not now, not ever.

“I appreciate what you’re trying to do,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I can’t let myself depend on anyone. Not yet.”

Barron studied her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, with a soft sigh, he nodded. “Alright. But remember this—if you ever change your mind, I’ll be here.”

Before she could respond, he stood up, brushing imaginary dust off his trousers. “Take care of yourself, Kenna. And try to get some rest tonight, okay?”

With that, he walked away, leaving her alone once again. Kenna watched him go, her chest tight with conflicting emotions. Gratitude. Confusion. Fear. And beneath it all, a flicker of something she hadn’t felt in years: longing.

As she sipped her coffee, staring at the empty chair where Barron had sat moments ago, she realized something unsettling: despite her best efforts, Barron James was slowly becoming impossible to ignore.

Meeting Again...

Years passed in a blur of textbooks, late-night study sessions, and endless cups of coffee. Kenna had thrown herself into her medical education with a ferocity that left little room for anything else. She barely had time to think about Barron James—though his memory lingered like a faint echo in the back of her mind. His words, his kindness, his quiet presence—they were always there, tucked away in the corners of her thoughts, even as she focused on building her future.

Now, at 27 years old, Kenna stood outside the towering glass doors of St. James Memorial Hospital, her heart pounding with equal parts excitement and dread. Today marked the beginning of her internship—the culmination of everything she had worked so hard for. She adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder and took a deep breath, trying to steady herself.

“You’ve got this,” she whispered under her breath, repeating the mantra she had relied on countless times before. “You’ve earned this.”

As she stepped inside, the hospital buzzed with activity. Nurses hurried down the hallways, doctors barked orders, and patients shuffled along, their faces etched with worry or relief. It was overwhelming but exhilarating—a place where lives were saved and changed every single day. This was where she belonged.

At the reception desk, a young woman handed Kenna her schedule and orientation packet. “Welcome to St. James, Dr. Will,” she said with a polite smile. “Your supervisor will meet you shortly.”

Kenna nodded, clutching the folder tightly. Dr. Will. The title still felt foreign on her tongue, but it filled her with pride. All those sleepless nights, all the sacrifices—it had led her here.

Moments later, a tall figure appeared at the end of the hallway. Kenna’s breath caught in her throat as she recognized him immediately. Barron James.

He looked different now—more mature, his sharp features softened slightly by time, but his presence was just as commanding as ever. He wore a pristine white coat over his suit, his name embroidered neatly above the pocket: Dr. Barron James, Chief of Medicine.

“Miss Will,” he said, his voice smooth and calm as he approached her. “Or should I say… Dr. Will?”

Kenna blinked, stunned. Of all the hospitals in the city, she had ended up working under him . Her heart raced as memories flooded back—their conversations, his quiet support, the tension that had crackled between them during her medical school days. She hadn’t seen him since that day in the library, and yet here he was, standing in front of her as if no time had passed at all.

“Mr. James,” she stammered, struggling to keep her composure. “I mean… Dr. James. I didn’t realize you worked here.”

Barron smiled faintly, though there was a flicker of amusement in his eyes. “It’s my hospital, actually. My family owns it.”

Kenna’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Of course it was his hospital. Why wouldn’t it be? Everything about Barron screamed wealth and influence, yet somehow, she had never connected the dots.

“I see,” she managed, forcing a polite smile. “Well, thank you for having me.”

“The pleasure is mine,” he replied, his tone light but layered with meaning. “I’ve been following your progress, you know. You’ve done remarkable work.”

Kenna shifted uncomfortably, unsure how to respond. “Thank you. I’ve worked hard.”

“That you have,” Barron agreed, his gaze lingering on her face for a moment too long. Then, clearing his throat, he gestured toward the elevator. “Shall we begin your tour? There’s much to cover.”

As they walked through the hospital, Barron explained the various departments, introduced her to key staff members, and outlined her responsibilities as an intern. Kenna tried to focus, nodding and taking notes, but her mind kept drifting back to Barron. His proximity was intoxicating, his voice sending shivers down her spine. Every time their eyes met, she felt a jolt of electricity—a reminder of the unresolved tension between them.

When they reached the surgical wing, Barron paused, turning to face her. “This will likely be one of your busiest areas. Are you prepared for the challenges ahead?”

Kenna straightened her posture, meeting his gaze head-on. “I’m ready for whatever comes my way.”

Barron studied her for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, with a small smile, he said, “I believe you are. Just remember—you’re not alone anymore. If you need help, don’t hesitate to ask.”

His words stirred something deep within her, a mix of gratitude and frustration. She wanted to tell him she didn’t need his protection, that she could handle things on her own. But the sincerity in his voice made her pause. He wasn’t offering pity; he was offering partnership. And that scared her more than she cared to admit.

Later that evening, after a long day of shadowing senior doctors and assisting with minor procedures, Kenna found herself sitting alone in the hospital cafeteria. She picked at her food absentmindedly, replaying the day’s events in her mind. Working under Barron was both thrilling and terrifying. He was brilliant, dedicated, and undeniably attractive—but he also represented everything she had tried to avoid: distraction, vulnerability, and the possibility of losing control.

As she sipped her tea, she noticed Barron enter the cafeteria. Their eyes met briefly, and he hesitated before walking over to her table.

“Mind if I join you?” he asked, holding a tray of food.

Kenna hesitated, then nodded. “Sure.”

They ate in silence for a while, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy between them. Finally, Barron broke the quiet.

“How are you finding the hospital so far?” he asked, his tone casual but his eyes searching hers.

“It’s… intense,” Kenna admitted, setting her fork down. “But I think I can handle it.”

Barron chuckled softly. “Good. Because I have high expectations for you, Dr. Will.”

Kenna raised an eyebrow, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “High expectations, huh? Should I be worried?”

“Only if you plan to disappoint me,” he teased, though there was a seriousness beneath his playful tone.

For a moment, their gazes locked, and Kenna felt her pulse quicken. There it was again—that undeniable spark, that magnetic pull she couldn’t escape. She quickly looked away, focusing on her plate.

“Well, I won’t let you down,” she said firmly, though her voice wavered slightly.

“I know you won’t,” Barron replied, his voice soft but unwavering. “Because I’ll be right here, making sure of it.”

Kenna swallowed hard, her heart racing. She didn’t know what to say, so she said nothing. Instead, she focused on finishing her meal, acutely aware of Barron’s presence beside her.

As they parted ways later that night, Kenna couldn’t shake the feeling that her life was about to change in ways she wasn’t prepared for. Barron James had re-entered her world, and this time, there was no escaping him—or the feelings he stirred within her.

The days that followed Kenna’s first encounter with Barron at the hospital were a whirlwind of activity. As an intern, she was thrown into the deep end immediately—long hours in the ER, assisting in surgeries, and navigating the labyrinthine politics of St. James Memorial Hospital. It was grueling work, but Kenna thrived under pressure. She had always been someone who rose to challenges, and this was no exception.

Yet, despite her focus on her duties, Barron’s presence loomed large over everything she did. He wasn’t constantly hovering, but he was always there—in the background, watching, guiding. Whether it was assigning her to high-profile cases or stepping in when she struggled, his involvement was subtle yet undeniable. And every time their paths crossed, Kenna felt her carefully constructed walls waver just a little more.

One afternoon, after a particularly difficult shift in the surgical wing, Kenna found herself alone in the locker room, changing out of her scrubs. Her hands trembled as she untied her shoes, the weight of the day pressing down on her chest. A young patient—a child named Mia—had taken a turn for the worse during surgery, and though the team had managed to stabilize her, the emotional toll lingered. Kenna had held Mia’s mother’s hand as she cried, promising her they would do everything possible to save her daughter. But promises weren’t enough; Kenna knew that better than anyone.

As she sat on the bench, staring blankly at the floor, the door creaked open. She looked up to see Barron standing there, his expression unreadable.

“Dr. Will,” he said softly, closing the door behind him. “Are you alright?”

Kenna blinked, startled. She hadn’t expected anyone to follow her here, let alone him. “I’m fine,” she replied quickly, though her voice betrayed her. “Just… tired.”

Barron stepped closer, his movements deliberate but gentle. “You don’t look fine. That surgery today—it must have been hard.”

“It’s part of the job,” Kenna muttered, avoiding his gaze. “We can’t save everyone.”

“No,” Barron agreed, his tone thoughtful. “But we can try. And sometimes, trying is enough.”

Kenna glanced at him sharply, surprised by the depth in his words. For all his wealth and privilege, Barron understood pain in a way that resonated with her. There was a sadness in his eyes—a shadow of something she couldn’t quite place—but it made him feel… human. Vulnerable.

“I didn’t expect you to notice,” she admitted quietly, fiddling with the hem of her shirt. “Most people don’t.”

“I notice more than you think,” Barron replied, his voice low and steady. “Especially when it comes to you.”

Kenna’s breath hitched, and she quickly looked away, her cheeks flushing. His words hung in the air between them, heavy with unspoken meaning. She wanted to ask what he meant, to demand clarity, but fear held her back. What if his answer changed everything?

Instead, she forced a small laugh, attempting to lighten the mood. “Well, maybe you should stop noticing so much. It’s distracting.”

Barron raised an eyebrow, a faint smirk playing on his lips. “Is that so? Distracting how?”

Kenna hesitated, caught off guard by his directness. “It’s… nothing. Forget I said anything.”

He studied her for a moment, his gaze piercing yet tender. Then, with a soft sigh, he sat down beside her on the bench. Their shoulders brushed lightly, sending a jolt of electricity through her body.

“You don’t have to pretend with me, Kenna,” he said gently, using her first name again. “You’ve carried the weight of the world on your shoulders for too long. Let someone else share the burden—for once.”

Kenna swallowed hard, her throat tight with emotion. His words struck a chord deep within her, stirring memories of nights spent crying alone, of sacrifices made without thanks, of dreams pursued against impossible odds. She had spent her entire life proving herself—to her family, to society, to herself. But now, sitting here with Barron, she felt something she hadn’t allowed herself to feel in years: the desire to let go.

“I don’t know how,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I’ve always done things alone.”

“Then let me teach you,” Barron replied, his tone firm but kind. “Let me show you that it’s okay to lean on others. That it’s okay to trust.”

Kenna turned to look at him, her heart pounding. His eyes were filled with sincerity, with a warmth that made her want to believe him. But trust was dangerous. Trust meant opening herself up to hurt, to disappointment. And she couldn’t afford either—not now, not ever.

“I…” she began, her voice faltering. “I need to focus on my career. On becoming the best doctor I can be. I can’t afford distractions.”

Barron nodded slowly, though there was a flicker of sadness in his eyes. “I understand. Your career is important—I wouldn’t expect anything less from you. But remember this: you’re not just a doctor, Kenna. You’re also a person. And people need connection. They need support.”

His words lingered in the air, sinking into her soul like rain on parched earth. She wanted to argue, to insist that she didn’t need anyone—but the truth was, she did . She just didn’t know how to admit it.

Later that evening, as Kenna walked home from the hospital, she replayed their conversation in her mind. Barron’s words echoed in her thoughts, mingling with the doubts and fears she had buried for so long. He had offered her something rare and precious: understanding. Acceptance. A safe space to be vulnerable.

But vulnerability scared her. It always had. Growing up, she had learned to rely only on herself, to shield her heart from pain. Yet, somehow, Barron had found a crack in her armor—a tiny chink through which he slipped effortlessly, leaving her defenses in shambles.

As she climbed the stairs to her apartment, Kenna paused outside her door, staring at the key in her hand. For the first time in years, she allowed herself to imagine a different future—one where she didn’t have to carry the weight alone. One where Barron James wasn’t just her mentor or benefactor, but something more.

She shook her head, dispelling the thought before it could take root. Now wasn’t the time for such fantasies. She had a career to build, goals to achieve. Love—or whatever this strange pull toward Barron was—would have to wait.

But as she stepped inside and closed the door behind her, she couldn’t deny the truth: Barron James had become impossible to ignore. And sooner or later, she would have to face the feelings he stirred within her.

Do you think Barron’s mother is being unfair—or just protective? What do YOU think Victor’s real plan is?

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