But how? After nineteen years of being one thing, how did you become something else?
Carson didn’t have the answer. But he had two weeks to figure it out.
Two weeks to decide who he wanted to be.
Two weeks to become someone Nora could build a life with.
Or two weeks to accept that he was too broken to be anything other than what he’d always been.
A detective. A savior. A man who loved justice more than he loved himself.
And maybe—maybe—that meant he wasn’t capable of the kind of love Nora deserved.
The kind that showed up. That chose her. That put her first.
But for her, he had to try.
Even if trying meant tearing down everything he’d built over the past nineteen years.
Even if trying meant facing the grief and guilt he’d been running from since Lily disappeared.
Even if trying meant admitting he’d been wrong about what mattered most.
Carson looked around the empty apartment and made a decision.
He couldn’t do this alone. Couldn’t figure this out by himself.
He needed help. Real help. Not just promises and good intentions.
He pulled out his phone and searched for therapists in Blackridge.
It was time to stop running. Time to face the demons he’d been avoiding since he was seventeen years old.
Time to heal. Or at least try to.
For Nora. For himself. For the possibility of a future that included more than just work.
He made an appointment for the next day.
And then, for the first time in weeks, Carson Black went to bed and actually slept.
Because finally—finally—he was ready to start changing.
Not for the case. Not for justice. Not for anyone else.
But for himself.
And maybe, if he did the work, if he really changed, he’d be worthy of Nora’s love again.
Maybe.
It was the only hope he had left.
Chapter 23
Dr. Angela Carpenter’s office was nothing like Carson expected.
No couch. No notepad. No clinical sterility. Just two comfortable chairs, a window overlooking a small garden, and a woman in her fifties who looked at him with kind but assessing eyes.
