The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable. It felt heavy with everything unspoken between them. Jamie thought about last night, about Erin’s voice in the dark sayingyou just trust me, okay?She wanted to reach out, but the hallway wasn’t built for that.
“About last night,” Erin said softly, almost like she’d read her mind. “I’m not going to pretend it was nothing. It meant a lot to me.”
Jamie’s breath caught. “It did to me too.” She swallowed. “I’ve been trying to compartmentalize it, but it keeps sneaking in.”
A faint, knowing smile pulled at Erin’s mouth. “We’ll figure out the balance.”
Jamie nodded. “Yeah.”
They stood there another beat before Erin straightened, smoothing the front of her blazer like she could pull the mask back on. “I should get back before someone decides I’ve vanished.”
“Right.” Jamie tucked her notebook under her arm. “I’m on the six and the ten tonight. I’ll keep the line clean. No speculation.”
Erin’s eyes met hers. “Thank you.”
“You’ve got my cell if you need to clarify anything.”
“I know,” Erin said, her voice dipping just enough to mean more than it should. “And Jamie?”
“Yeah?”
“Good question.” Her lips quirked. “You made me work for it.”
Jamie’s laugh came out uneven. “Guess I did.”
Erin’s smile lingered for a breath before she turned toward the end of the hall. Jamie watched her go, feeling the weight of everything she couldn’t say yet pressing just under her ribs.
When she finally stepped back into the briefing room, Tilly was waiting by the door, cable coiled over one arm. “You look like you saw a ghost.”
Jamie shook her head. “Just saw the cost of a headline.”
Tilly raised an eyebrow. “Worth it?”
Jamie hesitated, then said softly, “Ask me after the six.”
They left together, the noise of the hallway swallowing them up. The story would run. The clip would loop across every network. Erin would weather the heat. But the thing that stuck with Jamie wasn’t the question or the quote. It was the way Erin had looked at her when she saidit meant a lot to me.
For once, Jamie didn’t try to write her feelings into neat lines. She just carried them out into the daylight and hoped they’d survive it.
* * *
The six o’clock broadcast went smoothly, all things considered. Jamie delivered the story with the clip of Erin’s revelation queued perfectly behind her shoulder graphic. She kept her voice neutral, her face composed, even as every word felt like it was scraping against her ribs. When the segment wrapped, Dennis gave her a nod of approval. Harper shot her a thumbs-up from across the newsroom.
She smiled and nodded back, but the knot in her stomach didn’t budge.
By the time she finished the ten o’clock, the clip had already been picked up by three other stations and was making the rounds on social media. The headline she’d set in motion had taken on a life of its own. Jamie changed out of her on-air blazer in the bathroom, pulled her hair into a ponytail, and texted Erin before she could second-guess it.
Story ran clean. Hope you’re holding up okay.
She stared at the screen, waiting for the three dots to appear. They didn’t.
The drive home felt longer than usual. Every red light stretched, every block empty and quiet in that specific October way that made the city feel like it was holding its breath. Jamie parked in her building’s small lot, climbed the stairs to her apartment, and dropped her bag by the door with more force than necessary.
The silence pressed in immediately. No Leo padding across the floor to greet her. No warm voice calling from the other room. Just her own breathing and the hum of the refrigerator kicking on in the kitchen.
She checked her phone again. Still nothing.
Jamie paced to the window, then back to the couch, then to the kitchen where she poured a glass of water she didn’t drink. Her mind kept circling the same question: was Erin okay, or was she pulling away?
