He studies me for a beat too long, and I can tell he knows there’s more. But he doesn't push it. He just wraps his beefy arm around my shoulders and says, "Good work in there."
I nod and we drive back to the station. I laugh at Aiden's jokes and give Jasper shit about his napkins and act as if everything's normal.
But that night, alone in my apartment, I message her.
Wild@Heart:Had a rough day at work. Nothing serious, but there was a close call and it rattled me more than I want to admit. My hands were shaking afterward and I played it off like it was nothing. But it wasn't nothing. I keep replaying the moment and thinking about what would've happened if my partner hadn't been right there.
I can’t tell her exactly what I do for work, since it would be easy to figure out who I am. So I keep it vague.
Her response comes within a minute.
Cursive&Caffeine:Are you okay? Are you hurt?
Wild@Heart:I'm fine physically. Just shaken up. I keep thinking about it.
Cursive&Caffeine:Well, I'm really glad you're safe. That must’ve been terrifying.
Cursive&Caffeine:You want to talk about it? What did it feel like?
So I tell her as honestly as I can.
About the split second where I felt that this could be it. Game over. About the adrenaline crash afterward, with my knee bouncing and my jaw clenched, willing my hands to be steady. About how I went home and stood in the shower, not doing anything but standing under the water, replaying it.
She doesn't panic. She doesn't minimize it or rush to reassure me. She asks questions—not the worried-for-you ones, but the I-want-to-understand ones.
And then she says: "You know you don't have to perform for me. The unfiltered version is the one I want."
And there it is again. That feeling of being exposed by someone who can't even see my face.
Wild@Heart:You're freakishly good at that.
Cursive&Caffeine:At what?
Wild@Heart:Making me feel safe enough to tell the truth.
Cursive&Caffeine:Keep being honest. I can handle it.
We talk well into the night, and somewhere in the middle of it, my hands stop shaking.
The next evening, I'm scrolling my phone after dinner when a notification pops up from Mountain Mates.
You've been matched. Hope it’s going well. Ready for the next step?
It's an invitation to something called the Discovery Retreat—a weekend at a mountain lodge, a town over, where matched couples finally meet in person. Face to face.
My heart rate spikes as if I just ran a five-alarm drill.
I screenshot it and send it to her.
Wild@Heart:Did you get this too?
Cursive&Caffeine:Just saw it. My hands are shaking.
Wild@Heart:Ditto.
Cursive&Caffeine:That's where we'd meet.
Wild@Heart:Yep, that's where we'd meet.
