When I got back, Abby was putting new bedding on the couch, looking satisfied with her choice.
“You didn’t have to do that, you know,” I say, trying not to snort when she startles dramatically.
“Don’t sneak up on me like that,” she scolds. “Don’t you know I’m fragile?”
“The last word I’d use to describe you is fragile,” I point out, pushing off the door frame and helping her tuck in the finalcorner of the duvet. “And I didn’t sneak up on you, I literally yelled ‘hey, I’m back’ when I came in.”
“Well I didn’t hear you, obviously,” she scoffs. “And yes, I did have to do this. I was going to have to buy something either way, and it made more sense to replace this couch instead of buying one specifically for the nursery. And since I’m getting rid of the guest room, you need somewhere to sleep where your feet aren’t dangling off the edge.”
“That’s very thoughtful, thank you,” I say, giving her a quick hug before flopping down on my new bed. “You know what, this is actually way more comfortable than the old Murphy bed at the station. I’m going to get spoiled.”
“Don’t worry,” she says, rolling her eyes. “I’ll call Granny to tattle on you if you start getting too prissy.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Oh I absolutely would,” she says, grinning wickedly. “And don’t you forget it, Jacky boy.”
I give her a sarcastic salute, and she swats at me before disappearing into the kitchen. “Do you want anything to eat?” she yells. “I can make something.”
“Nah, I have to head up to the station,” I groan, begrudgingly removing myself from the comfortable padding. “I’m on a 24/48 starting at six.”
“Oh,” she says, reappearing in the living room with a frown. “So you won’t be home until tomorrow night?”
“Unfortunately,” I sigh, lacing my boots up and grabbing my work bag. “But I called Ellie, and she said she can come over tonight. Something about girl-dinner and regency romance?”
“Oh yeah, I forgot there’s a new season,” she says, instantly looking more cheerful.
I’m not going to bother askingwhatthere’s a new season of. Something tells me it's not for me.
“But you’ll be back tomorrow right?” she adds in a small voice.
“Of course I will,” I reassure her, crossing the room and folding her into my arms. “I’ll always come back, as long as you want me to.”
“Okay,” she says, and I realize with utter alarm that her lower lip is trembling.
“Hey,” I say, bewildered. “What’s wrong, Abs?”
“Ugh, I don’t know,” she says, furiously swiping at her eyes. “I think I’m just hormonal. I just get scared anytime someone leaves that they’re not going to come back. Especially you.”
Fuck, I’m stupid. Of course she is. Why wouldn’t she be after what she’s gone through?
“Look at me,” I say firmly, squaring her shoulders and leaning down until we’re eye-to-eye. “I will always come back to you, come hell or high water. God himself would have to strike me down to keep me from showing up for you. You don’t ever need to worry about that.”
“But what if you don’t?” she says, voice taking on a panicked tone. “What if something happens, what if there’s a bad fire and you get hurt, what if–”
“Slow down,” I say soothingly. “Deep breaths. I’m not going out into the field right now, it’s okay. The worst danger I’m in right now is getting a gnarly papercut. Or a concussion from banging my head against my desk when Tyler does something stupid. I will be back tomorrow, right on time, and in one piece. I promise.”
She nods, using her sleeve to wipe away the single tear that broke through. With another quick hug, I say goodbye and head to my car, sick to my stomach with guilt. I know I’ll be spending my entire shift counting down the minutes until I can get back to her.
I hate leaving her, knowing she’s worried the way she is. I also hate the way I’ve been feeling more and more like she’smineto come home to.
****
When I walk into the station, I can immediately tell something’s wrong. There’s no yelling, no mayhem, no divorced dad rock blaring–none of the things I’ve come to expect when Garrett and Tyler are on the same shift.
“Hello?” I call out, setting my bag down in my office before wandering into the main area. When I turn the corner to the cove where the couches are, the sight in front of me is not a pretty one.
Tyler is perched on the coffee table, and I watch him hand a small trash bin to Garrett, who looks–well, he looks fucking awful.
