AGAINST the ODDS

Chapter 8: The Line Between Us

(Lillian's POV – She reassures him but maintains professional distance.)

⸻

Reassurance is part of my job.

I've spent years perfecting the balance—offering enough comfort to ease the fear without making promises I can't keep. I know how to be firm without being cold, empathetic without getting too close.

But with Jaxon Reid, that balance is a razor's edge.

Because there's something about him—something in the way he looks at me, in the way he pushes back against every piece of medical advice like it's a personal challenge—that makes it dangerously easy to slip past the boundary of professionalism.

And I can't let that happen.

Not with him.

⸻

Surgery Is Set

I sit across from Jaxon in the team's medical office, going over the final details of his surgery. He's slumped in the chair, arms crossed, radiating tension.

"Dr. Patel is one of the best orthopedic surgeons in the league," I tell him, keeping my tone even. "He's done this procedure hundreds of times. You're in good hands."

Jaxon doesn't react. He just stares straight ahead, jaw locked.

I sigh and slide a paper toward him. "These are the final pre-op instructions. No food or water after midnight. We'll check you in at 5:30 AM for an 8 AM start time. The procedure will take about two hours, and you'll be in post-op recovery for another few before we move you to a hospital room."

Nothing.

Not a single flicker of acknowledgment.

I tap the paper lightly. "Jaxon, I need to know you understand everything."

His eyes snap to mine, sharp and frustrated. "I understand. I just don't like it."

I nod. "That's fair."

His brows lift slightly, like he expected me to argue.

I don't.

Because I get it.

He's spent his entire life controlling the game. Calling the shots. Now, for the first time, he has to put his trust in someone else.

I can see how much that's eating him alive.

⸻

The Weight of Reality

"I've never had surgery before," he mutters after a long pause.

It's the closest he's come to admitting he's nervous.

I soften my approach, just a little. "That's actually a good thing. It means you've taken care of your body all these years."

He lets out a dry laugh. "Yeah, and look where that got me."

I frown. "Jaxon—"

"I know, I know," he cuts in, rubbing a hand over his face. "I'll heal. I'll recover. I'll get back out there."

His voice is flat. Detached.

Like he's trying to convince himself more than me.

I watch him carefully. "It's okay to be scared."

His head snaps up, eyes flashing. "I'm not scared."

I arch a brow. "No? Then what are you?"

His jaw clenches. He doesn't answer.

Because he doesn't know.

And that's what terrifies him most.

⸻

Drawing the Line

I lean back in my chair, keeping my voice calm. "Look, I can tell you a hundred times that you're going to get through this. That you'll come back stronger. But at the end of the day, you have to believe it."

His fingers tighten on the armrest. "And what if I don't?"

I exhale, choosing my next words carefully. "Then you figure out how to."

His gaze searches mine, and for a split second, I feel it—the pull. The unspoken thing between us that I refuse to acknowledge.

Because I can't.

Because Jaxon Reid is my patient.

And that's all he can ever be.

I force myself to break the eye contact, glancing at my watch. "I need to check in with another patient. Do you have any other questions?"

His expression flickers—something close to disappointment—but it's gone before I can be sure.

"No," he mutters.

I nod, standing. "Then I'll see you on surgery day."

I turn to leave, but his voice stops me at the door.

"Dr. Carter."

I hesitate.

"Thanks," he says quietly.

It's not much. Just one word.

But it lingers in the air between us, heavier than it should be.

I don't turn around.

I can't.

Because if I do, I might cross a line I can't afford to cross.

Instead, I take a steady breath and walk out the door.

And I don't look back.