"I'm going to her house after her shift ends to work out whether she still wants to fight for us now that the professional complications are resolved.”
Diana's sharp eyes tracked her with something that might have been approval. "Good. Don't let her hide behind the job as an excuse."
"I won't."
As Jade left the office, the weight that had been pressing on her chest all weekend lifted slightly. The obstacles were removed. Everything else was up to Maddox.
Jade’s workday crawled by with the particular slowness that came from knowing something important waited at the end of it.
She went through the motions: client sessions, paperwork, and a brief check-in with one of the newer officers who’d requested support after a difficult call. All of it necessary, yet it felt like filler to her before the real conversation that mattered.
Maddox left the police department at four-thirty, drove home to change out of her work clothes and into dark jeans and a soft sweater. She needed to feel like herself for this conversation. Not Jade Kessler, the contracted therapist, but just Jade. By five, she was back in her car driving toward the outskirts of Phoenix Ridge where Maddox’s house sat on a quiet street next to the forest. She’d been there enough times over the past month to know the route by heart, and she let her mind wander while she drove the winding road through the hills.
Maddox’s truck was already parked out front in the gravel driveway when Jade pulled in, the sight of it tightening her chest. Maddox was home, probably inside with Zeus and going through her evening routine or sitting on the back porch with a beer.
Jade sat in her car for a moment, breathing through the nerves that wanted to convince her this was a mistake.
But it wasn’t a mistake. It was necessary, for both of them.
She got out, walked up the three wooden steps to the front door, and knocked loudly and insistent, the way you knocked when you weren’t leaving until someone answered.
The wait felt endless. She could hear Zeus barking his alert bark inside, and then Maddox’s voice muffled through the door. “Zeus, settle.”
The door opened. Maddox stood there in jeans and an old Marine Corps t-shirt, barefoot, and hair slightly damp like she’d just showered. She looked exactly how Jade felt: exhausted, devastated, and barely holding it together. Dark circles shadowed her eyes, and her face looked drawn, tight with the kind of tension that came from not sleeping or eating or barely functioning beyond the bare minimum.
For a second, neither of them spoke.
Then Maddox’s expression shifted into something guarded. “Jade, what are you?—”
“Can I come in?” Jade’s voice came out steadier than she felt. “We need to talk.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“I’m not asking.” Jade stepped forward, not aggressively but not backing down either. “We need to have this conversation. You can either let me in, or I can stand on your porch and say what I need to say.”
Maddox’s eyes narrowed, but she stepped back, pulling the door wider. Jade walked inside. The house smelled like dog and coffee, and Zeus appeared from the hallway, tail wagging tentatively, uncertain about the tension but happy to see her. She reached down to scratch behind his ears, using the moment to ground herself.
“Diana told you,” Maddox said from behind her. It wasn’t a question.
Jade straightened then turned to face her. “Diana told me she informed you this morning that the professional complications have been resolved, but that’s all.”
Maddox’s expression didn’t relax, but something flickered in her eyes that Jade couldn’t quite read.
“I went to her office first thing,” Jade continued. “I proposed a framework for oversight, and she approved it. The professional barriers are cleared. They always were.”
“You shouldn’t have done that.”
She took a step back, putting space between her and the words that stung like a slap. “Why not?”
“Because it doesn’t change anything.”
Jade’s chest tightened, but she kept her voice level. “It changes everything. You ended the relationship because you were terrified of losing your job”—her voice pitched lower—”of losing Zeus.” She stepped forward again. “But those consequences? They’re manageable. Diana said so herself. The options she presented were all workable, but they just required transparency and boundaries.”
Maddox looked away, her jaw working, and Jade wished she was able to read her mind.
“The professional excuses are gone,” Jade said. “Which means you have to face the real question: Do you want this? Do you want me? Are you willing to fight for us and compromise to keep this?”
“Jade—”
