Something flickers in his eyes then, like a storm cloud breaking just enough to let sunlight pierce through. He cups my face in his calloused hands, his palms warm, his thumbs brushing away the hot tracks of tears on my cheeks. The smallestchuckle escapes him, rough but real, and it tugs one out of me too, weak and tinged with sorrow, but there all the same.
“Does that make us official then?” he teases gently, trying to lighten the ache hanging between us.
My chest aches, my grief still raw and jagged, but the thought of him wanting me—claiming me—plants something small and steady in the wreckage. “Yes,” I whisper, the word trembling but certain.
His mouth finds mine, and the kiss is desperate, clinging, soaked in salt from my tears. His warmth presses into me like he’s stitching me together with every movement. For a moment, there is no storm, no death, no weight of the world. There’s only him, and me, and the fragile spark of light between us.
When we break apart, his forehead rests against mine, his breath warm against my lips. “I’m going to finish making your breakfast, okay?” he whispers, easing me gently back against the pillows.
I nod, words lodged in my throat. My chest still feels like it’s caving in, but at least now, there’s his warmth in the cracks.
When he leaves the room, the scent of bacon and coffee drifts in from the kitchen. It’s so ordinary, so achingly normal, it almost feels cruel. I force myself to reach for my phone, notifications crowding the screen—Discord, Instagram, Facebook—all buzzing with noise I can’t face. I swipe them away until only one thing matters: Sergeant Rodriguez’s number.
It only rings twice. “Rodriguez here.”
“Hi, ma’am, it’s um Rae—Raelynn Carson.” My voice trembles, but I force it steady. “I just… I’m calling to let you know I can’t make it in today.”
There’s a pause, then her tone softens, all business stripped away. “I figured as much. Officer Perez called me earlier and explained. I’m very sorry for your loss, Miss Carson. Take all the time you need.”
Of course he called to let her know. She was his boss after all. I’m just grateful he saved me from having to explain my situation because I wasn’t sure how I was going to accomplish that.
“Thank you, ma’am.”
I hang up and set the phone aside, dragging myself from the bed. Max hops down with me, sticking to my heels. At the end of the hall, the kitchen glows with soft yellow light, Emilio’s silhouette moving over the stove as bacon hisses in the pan. The smell of coffee curls through the air, almost mocking in its comfort.
I turn away, my feet carrying me to the opposite end of the hall. I lift my hand, knuckles brushing against Tessa’s door in a soft knock.
“Come in.” Her voice is quiet, weak.
I crack the door open, peeking in. She’s curled on her side, cocooned in her comforter, her phone tossed carelessly beside her. Her eyes are swollen, rimmed red, the kind that tell me she didn’t sleep at all.
“I texted Marlena,” she whispers hoarsely. “Told her to come over. I couldn’t… I didn’t want to say it over the phone.”
“Good.” My voice softens as I step inside. “She needs to know, too.”
Tessa pushes herself up slowly, hair tangled around her face. Tears brim again, spilling over as she chokes on the words. “It doesn’t feel real. I—I texted her, like I always do, and then I remembered—” Her voice cracks, shattering, and her hands press hard against her face.
I climb onto the bed beside her, wrapping her into me before she can collapse entirely. “I know,” I whisper, my own voice splintering. “I know.”
The grief rips through us both, and we sob together. The sound is unholy, raw, filling the small room until it feels like itmight burst apart. When her sobs taper to shudders, she pulls back, wiping her swollen face with trembling hands.
“Is Emilio still here?” she asks quietly.
I nod. “He’s in the kitchen making us breakfast.”
Her lips twitch into the faintest ghost of a smile. “That’s… sweet of him.”
“Yeah,” I whisper, before sucking my bottom lip into my mouth, hesitation buzzing in my chest. “I know this isn’t the best timing and all.” I dig my teeth into my lip as she looks at me with confusion. She gives me a signal to continue, and I release a breath. “We, um… we made it official.”
Her brows lift, and a smile stretches across her face, the grief in her eyes softening just a fraction. “Well, it’s about damn time. Ever since Friday night, he’s all you’ve been able to think about.”
I manage a weak laugh, shaking my head. “That issonot true.”
“Is too,” she argues softly, a smirk ghosting across her lips. “Just… do me a favor. If you two decide to fuck, put a sock on the door or something so I know to drown you out. I’m too sad to be horny and get off to you two.”
“Tessa!” I gasp, startled into laughter, even through tears.
“What?” she shrugs. “Sad fucking exists, Rae. It’s right up there with hate fucking—it’s distraction 101.”
