“That’s what I’m afraid of.” Erin’s voice dropped lower, quieter. “That you’ll keep chasing until you find something you can’t unsee.”
Jamie’s voice softened. “Erin, I’m not looking for flaws to expose. I’m looking at you. Just you.”
There was a quiet stretch on the line — not tense, just full.
“I didn’t tell you something,” Erin said finally. Her voice had that careful edge she used when she wasn’t sure if she was stepping forward or off a cliff. “Not because I was hiding it. I just… didn’t want to make things weird.”
Jamie straightened. “Okay. What is it?”
A breath, slow and steady, like Erin had to make her body do it.
“I talked to Tilly. A few days ago.”
Jamie blinked. “You did?”
“Yeah.” Erin paused, searching for the right shape of the truth. “I needed to. I owed them an apology for a long time. And before things with you went any further, I had to look that in the eye.” She swallowed. “I didn’t want to drag old damage into something new.”
Jamie felt warmth press behind her ribs. “I’m glad you did.”
Another breath. Quieter this time.
“Jamie… you don’t hate me for it, right?”
Jamie’s heart squeezed. “Erin, no. Of course I don’t.”
“You could,” Erin said softly. “They didn’t deserve what I put them through. And I should’ve said something years ago.”
“And you did now,” Jamie said. “That matters.”
Erin went still on the other end. Jamie could hear the shift in her breathing, the way the words landed where Erin needed them.
“You’re not pulling anything into this,” Jamie added. “You’re doing the work. That’s what counts.”
A small, shaky laugh slipped out of Erin. “I’m trying.”
“You’re allowed to try,” Jamie said. “With me, you’re allowed to try.”
The silence that followed wasn’t heavy anymore. It was warm, steady, like something starting to settle instead of fall apart.
“Get some sleep,” Erin said finally. “Tomorrow’s going to be long.”
“You too,” Jamie said. “And Erin?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m proud of you.”
Erin’s breath caught, just slightly. “Thanks, J.”
They hung up, and Jamie stood at the window for a long moment, phone still warm in her hand. The street below was empty now, the single car long gone. She thought about Erin alone in her apartment, thought about Leo curled at her feet and the way her voice had softened when she saidThanks, J.
It wasn’t a promise, not yet. But it felt like the start of one.
Jamie set her phone on the counter and turned off the lights, letting the dark settle around her. For the first time all day, the silence didn’t feel like something she had to fill. It just felt like space, and maybe, finally, a little room to breathe.
Thirty One
Three days after the presser, the newsroom still hummed with talk about it. Jamie could hear her own voice bleeding from a monitor near editing, someone replaying the clip for the third time that morning.
