But routine had a way of surprising her.
Erin was standing just outside the precinct doors, talking to another officer with a file tucked under her arm. Her hair caught a sliver of sunlight that slipped through the overcast sky, and for a second Jamie just watched. It still felt strange, seeing her like this again without the weight of everything between them pressing down.
When Erin glanced up, her expression flickered with surprise, then something softer. She said something quick to the officer beside her and started walking over.
“Didn’t think I’d see WCVB around here on a slow news day,” Erin said, a faint smile tugging at her mouth.
Jamie lifted her coffee in greeting. “Someone’s got to keep Boston safe from potholes and parades.”
That earned a real laugh, short but warm. “You always know how to find the hard-hitting stories.”
“Occupational hazard,” Jamie said, shrugging.
The conversation flowed easier than she expected. They talked about work, small updates, nothing heavy. Erin mentioned how chaotic things had been since she got back on duty. Jamie complained about the station’s new editing software. There was no edge to it, no awkward pauses—just an ease that came from knowing what it had cost to get back here.
When Erin brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, Jamie noticed the faint crease between her brows had finally started to fade. She looked tired but lighter, like she was learning how to breathe again too.
A gust of wind whipped past them, carrying the smell of roastedcoffee and exhaust. Erin shifted her cup, fingers brushing Jamie’s for half a second. Neither of them pulled away.
After a beat, Erin tilted her head. “You free later this week? Maybe Thursday?”
Jamie hesitated just long enough for it to mean something. “Yeah,” she said, then laughed softly. “Sorry, yes. Thursday’s good.”
Erin’s smile reached her eyes this time. “There’s a new place on Tremont. They’ve got terrible parking and good food. Thought we could test both.”
Jamie’s chest warmed. “Guess I can suffer through that.”
“Good,” Erin said, stepping back toward the door. “I’ll text you the time.”
Jamie watched her go, the door catching the wind as it closed behind her. For the first time in a long while, she didn’t feel the ache of what they’d been through—only the quiet, steady pulse of something new finding its footing.
* * *
Thursday came quicker than Jamie expected.
She’d told herself it was just dinner, nothing more. Still, she changed her shirt twice and debated eyeliner before deciding against it. The air carried that late-summer chill that hinted at fall, and downtown hummed with its usual Thursday rhythm—music from patios, laughter spilling from open doors, headlights gliding over damp pavement.
Erin was already outside the restaurant when Jamie arrived, hands tucked into her jacket pockets, posture easy but her smile shy around the edges.
“Hey,” she said.
“Hey,” Jamie answered, tucking her keys into her bag. “You weren’t kidding about the parking.”
Erin laughed, quiet but genuine. “I warned you. Boston’s favorite sport—circling the block until you question your will to live.”
Jamie grinned. “I only considered it twice.”
Inside, the restaurant buzzed just enough to give them privacy without silence. Warm light pooled across the table, glinting off Erin’s glass as she swirled her drink. They started with safe topics—how busy the week hadbeen, how the city couldn’t decide if it wanted to rain or stay humid forever.
But comfort crept in quickly, soft and unforced.
“I saw your piece on that bakery reopening,” Erin said. “You made the owner cry in the best way.”
Jamie raised an eyebrow. “You watched?”
“Of course I did. You’re good at what you do, Garrison.”
The compliment landed deeper than she expected. “Thanks,” she said quietly. “It felt good to cover something that didn’t end in handcuffs.”
