Work should have been a good distraction. Should have made her feel accomplished and independent.
But every ten minutes, she’d think of something she wanted to tell Carson. Some small victory or funny moment. And she’d reach for her phone before remembering.
They weren’t together. She’d left. She was giving him space to figure out if he could change.
“You’ve looked at your phone twelve times in the last hour,” Lila observed from the doorway. “Has he texted?”
“No,” she admitted sadly. “I asked him not to. Told him I needed time to think.” Nora set down her phone. “I’m the one who left. I should be relieved to have space. Instead, I just miss him.”
“That’s normal. You love him. Love doesn’t turn off just because you need distance.”
“I know. But it would be easier if it did.” Nora closed her laptop. “I keep second-guessing myself. Wondering if I overreacted. If I should have been more patient.”
“You were patient for weeks. You gave him multiple chances to change. You even asked him to stay home just once, and he couldn’t do it.” Lila sat on the edge of the desk. “You didn’t overreact. You set boundaries. And if Carson can’t respect those boundaries, then you made the right choice leaving.”
“What if he can change? What if he’s trying right now and I’m not there to see it?”
“Then he’ll still be changed when your time apart is over. Real change doesn’t evaporate in two weeks.” Lila squeezed her hand. “Trust the process. Trust yourself. You know what you need. Don’t compromise on that just because you miss him.”
Nora wanted to believe that. Wanted to trust she’d made the right choice.
But sitting in Lila’s spare room, working on her business alone, she just felt hollow.
Her phone buzzed, and her heart dropped when she saw who the sender was. Not Carson. Her new client.
Just wanted to confirm our kickoff meeting for Thursday. Looking forward to working with you!
Nora forced herself to focus. This was good. This was what she’d wanted—a business that was hers, success that didn’t depend on anyone else, independence.
She typed back a professional response and tried to feel excited.
But excitement felt distant. Like something that existed on the other side of this grief.
***
Carson made it six hours without thinking about work.
He cleaned his apartment. Did laundry. Went grocery shopping. Made himself actual meals instead of grabbing takeout between cases.
Normal people things. Things he hadn’t done properly in years.
But at hour seven, his hands started itching for his phone. For the case files still on his dining table. For the familiar comfort of diving into an investigation.
He forced himself to leave the files alone. Instead, he called Finn.
“How’s the leave going?” Finn asked.
“Harder than I expected. I don’t know what to do with myself when I’m not working.”
“That’s kind of the point, man. You need to figure out who you are outside the badge.”
Carson scrubbed a frustrated hand down his face. “I don’t know if there is a me outside the badge.”
“Then you need to create one. Find hobbies. Do things you enjoy that aren’t crime-related.” Finn paused. “Have you talked to Nora?”
“No. She asked for space. I’m trying to respect that.”
“Good. Give her time. Use this time yourself. Actually work on changing.”
