“You’re too ambitious,”Ryan had accused.
Maybe he's just another flirty nurse,the voice continued.Maybe you were just another conquest, and now that he's gotten you interested, the game's over.
Had Jimmy gotten a taste of the real me — the demanding job, the walls I couldn't seem to fully dismantle — and decided it was too much? The confident lieutenant who had taken charge and asked him to dinner was replaced by a woman staring at a blank phone screen, feeling the sting of a dozen old rejections. I’d let my guard down, and this was the price. I felt like a fool.
By 2 p.m., I was pacing my apartment like a caged animal.This was ridiculous. I was a fire department lieutenant. I commanded emergency scenes, made life-and-death decisions under pressure, earned the respect of men who'd initially written me off as a diversity hire. I didn't pace around waiting for some guy to text me back.
But the silence was eating at me. Not just because my feelings were hurt — though they were — but because it was wrong. This level of radio silence from Jimmy, who'd been so open and communicative, wasn't normal. It didn't fit the pattern.
I stopped pacing. My commander's instincts were kicking in, the same ones that told me when something was off at a scene, when the smoke pattern didn't match the reported fire location, when a victim's story didn't align with their injuries.
This wasn't ghosting. This was a distress signal.
Jimmy had been on shift when I'd texted him. Something had happened. Something bad enough to make a man who'd been excited about our date go completely silent.
I grabbed my keys.
Jimmy's apartment building looked the same as it had four nights ago, but everything felt different now. I stood outside his door, still in my uniform from the night shift, my heart hammering against my ribs for entirely different reasons than it had the last time I was here.
I knocked softly. No answer.
I knocked again, louder. "Jimmy? It's Izzy."
I heard movement inside, then footsteps. The door opened, and my breath caught.
Jimmy looked like he'd been hit by a truck. His eyes were hollow, ringed with dark circles. His hair was disheveled, and he was wearing the same clothes he'd had on yesterday,wrinkled now like he'd slept in them. But it was his expression that broke my heart — empty, defeated, like something essential had been carved out of him and left a void behind.
"Izzy," he said, his voice rough. "I... I'm sorry, I meant to text you back, I just — "
"Is your family okay?" I asked quietly.
He blinked, confused by the question. "What? Yeah, they're... they're fine."
I nodded. I'd needed to rule out personal tragedy first. Which meant this was work. Which meant I understood.
"Bad case?" I asked, even though I already knew the answer.
His face crumpled slightly, and I saw him fighting to hold it together. "I... yeah. Really bad."
I stepped past him into his apartment, closing the door behind me. "Okay."
"Izzy, I'm not... I'm not good company right now. Maybe we should — "
"Jimmy." I turned to face him, my voice gentle but firm. "I'm not leaving. I don't know what happened, and you don't have to tell me. But I know that look. I've seen it on my crew after a bad call. I've seen it in the mirror. You're not okay, and you don't have to be. But you're not going to be alone with it."
He stared at me for a long moment, and I could see the exact moment his carefully maintained composure finally cracked. His shoulders sagged, and he looked so lost, so unlike the confident, caring man I'd been getting to know.
"Come here," I said softly, opening my arms.
He didn't move at first, like he wasn't sure he deserved comfort. So I went to him, wrapping my arms around him and pulling him against me. He was taller than me, but he seemed to fold into himself, his head dropping to my shoulder.
"I tried to help someone," he whispered against my neck. "I had a plan. I did everything right. And she... she left anyway. Because I couldn't protect her."
"I know," I said quietly, my hand stroking his hair. "I know."
And then he told me everything.
We stood there in his living room for a long time, his weight against me, my arms around him. I could feel the exhaustion in his body, the way he was finally letting himself lean on someone after hours of carrying this alone.
