Liam. I didn't look up. "Make it quick."
He stepped inside. Closed the door behind him.
That was never a good sign.
"You hesitated tonight."
My hands stilled on the tank. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"At the door. Before entry." I heard him move closer, felt him lean against the wall a few feet away. "Half a second, maybe less. But I saw it."
I set down the tank and turned to face him.
Liam was watching me with those sharp eyes, the ones that never missed anything. He had his arms crossed, his expression carefully neutral, but I knew him too well to be fooled. He wasn't here to judge. He was here because he was worried.
It almost made me feel worse.
"Everyone made it out," I snapped back.
"This time."
The words landed like a blow. Because he was right. This time. Everyone made it out this time. But what about next time? What about the call where halfa second meant the difference between a save and a recovery? What about the family that didn't get reunited on the lawn because their captain couldn't get his feet to move?
"You've been off for weeks," Liam continued. His voice was quieter now, less like a confrontation and more like a conversation. "Distracted. Coming in late, leaving early. Turning down beers with the crew." A pause. "This about the woman you've been protecting? The one who's got you rushing home?"
I should have known he'd found out. Liam always figured everything out. But this time, I knew how. He was close to one of the deputies, who probably heard the story from Sheriff Daniels.
"It's complicated."
"It always is." He pushed off the wall, took a step closer. "Talk to me, Cal. Whatever's going on, you don't have to carry it alone."
I turned back to the equipment rack. Rows of tanks and masks and tools, everything in its place, everything labeled and organized. Fifteen years of building systems, of creating order, of controlling the things I could control because so much of this job was about the things you couldn't.
Nothing like the mess inside my head. No labels there. No place for any of it.
"Yes, there's a woman," I said finally. The words came out rough, like they'd been stuck somewhere and didn't want to leave. "She's in trouble. Her ex is stalking her, threatening her. She needed help, and I'm helping."
"That's it?"
"That's it."
Liam was quiet for a moment. I could feel him watching me, weighing what I'd said against what I hadn't. That was the thing about Liam. He listened to the silences as much as the words.
"And you're falling for her."
It wasn't a question so I didn't answer.
The equipment room felt smaller than it had a minute ago. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, that low hum you stopped noticing until you were standing in silence with someone who knew you too well and knew all the signs you've left behind over the last weeks.
"Cal." His voice softened, losing the edge of confrontation. "It's okay. You're allowed to have a life. You're allowed to care about someone."
"It's not that simple."
"Why not?"
I turned back to the equipment rack. Picked up a tank I'd already checked. Set it down again.
Because she was Mateo's fiancée. Because I promised a dying man I'd take care of her. Because every time I look at her, I see the life my best friend should have had. Because I'm building something with her, piece by piece, and it feels like stealing. Like I'm taking what was supposed to be his.
