“Good. Strange. I left at five PM. Went home. Made dinner. Didn’t think about work all evening.”
“That’s amazing.”
“It felt wrong at first,” he admitted. “Like I was shirking responsibility. But then I reminded myself the cases will still be there tomorrow. The victims will still get justice. I don’t have to do everything in one day.”
“How did Dr. Carpenter help you realize that?”
Carson told her about his sessions. About thehomework assignments. About learning to separate his identity from his job. About forgiving himself—or starting to—for things that weren’t his fault.
“That’s beautiful,” Nora said, her eyes glistening. “I’m so proud of you for doing that work.”
“I’m proud of you too. For setting boundaries. For not settling. For teaching me what real love looks like.”
“What does it look like?”
“Showing up. Being present. Choosing someone even when it’s hard. Making space for them in your life instead of hoping they’ll fit into the gaps.” He reached across the table and took her hand. “You taught me all that. And I’m grateful.”
They finished dinner and walked along the waterfront, hand in hand, talking about everything and nothing. About the future they wanted to build. About dreams and hopes and fears.
“I want to meet your mom,” Nora said at one point. “If we’re really doing this—rebuilding, taking it slow—I want to know your family. What’s left of it.”
“She’d love that. She’s been asking about you. I told her we were taking a break and she said—” Carson smiled at the memory. “She said ‘Don’t be an idiot. Go fight for her.’”
“Smart woman.”
“She is. Takes after my dad that way.”
They ended up back at Lila’s apartment around ten PM. Carson walked Nora to the door.
“Thank you for tonight,” she said. “It was perfect.”
“Thank you for giving me another chance.”
“Thank you for actually changing. For doing the work.” She hesitated. “Do you want to come in? Just for a bit. Not—I’m not ready for that yet. But coffee. Talking. Just being together.”
“I’d love that.”
They sat on Lila’s couch—Lila had made herself scarce—and talked until midnight. About nothing important. About everything important. About who they were and who they wanted to be.
And when Carson finally left, kissing Nora good night at the door, he felt something he’d been missingfor years.
Contentment. Peace. The sense that he was exactly where he was supposed to be.
Not chasing cases. Not running from grief. Just existing. Being present. Loving someone who loved him back.
It was enough. More than enough.
It was everything.
***
Over the next two weeks, they fell into a rhythm.
Tuesday and Thursday dates. Weekend brunches. Phone calls every night. Slow, steady rebuilding of trust and connection.
Carson kept going to therapy. Kept setting boundaries at work. Kept showing up for Nora in ways he’d never managed before.
And Nora watched him carefully, looking for signs he was slipping back into old patterns. Looking for broken promises or forgotten commitments.
