"So you weren't angry when you were with her?"
"No," he tells me. "Broody yes, angry no."
"Do you think you'll ever feel good enough to let that anger go?"
He studies me. "I hope so."
"What was it like," I dare to ask, "knowing you were going to lose her? I think all the time if I just had the chance to say good bye to Raymond, it might have hurt less, but I don't believe that anymore."
His face grows a little sad. "Honestly, by the time she passed, I almost wanted it for her. Watching her suffer, watching the pain, watching her smile even when it hurt, knowing she was doing that for me, it killed me. It wasn't just losing her, that was hell of course, but it was watching her suffer slowly first."
I nod, swallowing the thick lump in my throat. "I can imagine. I don't think I could have coped, knowing it was such a long, painful process."
"It wasn't easy, but I did get to say good bye to her. I can't imagine how hard it would have been for you not to."
I nod, looking down. "It was horrible, but I have the good memories. I wasn't there. I didn't see it. I can keep Raymond in a safe place in my heart. You had to watch Miranda fade, and that takes strength."
He stares at me. "I guess we are both stronger than we think."
"I guess we are."
His mouth quirks a little bit again.
"You know what I think, Detective?"
"What do you think, Hartley?"
"I think you'd stop the world for just a second if you smiled."
His eyes flash with something unfamiliar to me, and for a moment, I think he might just smile, but he doesn't.
He will, one day. I'll make sure of that.
"Have you heard anything from Jacob?" he asks me, changing the subject.
I grin at him.
"Stop grinning at me, I'm just asking a question."
"Anyone would think you're jealous, Detective."
"I don't get jealous," he says, his voice dropping low. "I was just asking."
"Nobody ever ‘just asks,' and you know it. Just come out and say what you have to say."
He crosses those big arms. "I don't like that dickhead, not one single bit. I don't understand what you saw in him."
"Jacob was a nice guy, he just wasn't boyfriend material."
"No, he was girlfriend material."
I giggle. "Gosh, getting a bit cranky there, aren't we?"
Ace grunts.
"Anyway, we're just friends. You don't need to concern yourself over it."
He gets up from his spot on the sofa. "Wasn't concerned."
He leans down, brushing his lips across my forehead as he passes.
"You tell yourself whatever you have to," I call when he straightens and goes into the kitchen.
"Will a cup of tea stop you from talking?"
I laugh.
He shakes his head, those eyes dancing.
"Yes, please," I answer, unable to wipe the grin off my face.
"Wipe the smirk, Hartley."
I can't, but I know he doesn't mind.
Not really.
It's the first time I've felt good in … forever.
T: Come over and stay at my house tonight. I want to see you.
I stare down at the text message from Taylor just as I reach my apartment after finishing up a twelve-hour training shift at the hospital, where I got to watch my first baby being born. It was incredible. Definitely makes it worthwhile. I'm exhausted, and Ace is busy with work tonight, so maybe going and hanging out with Taylor might be a good thing.
H: I just finished up a shift at the hospital. Weren't you working tonight?
T: No. I'm not on. Come over. I miss you.
I could use a girls' night.
H: Let me tell Ace. I'll get back to you.
T: Okay!
I dial Ace's number while locking my apartment door. The cop on the other side gives me a nod. I hate closing the door right in his face, it makes me feel rude, but Ace has assured me, more than once, that it's normal and they're used to it. Still, I feel bad.
"Hart," Ace answers, his voice smooth and calm.
"Hey," I say softly. "Listen, how safe is it for me to go to Taylor's house for the night?"
///
"Safe enough, so long as we keep the watch on outside and you ensure that Taylor locks all her doors."
"She's in a third-floor apartment, I think we're fairly safe so long as someone is at the main entrance."
Ace makes his hmmmm sound of agreement, then says, "Yeah, that's good."
"So it's okay for me to go?"
"Yeah, go. Will do you good."
I snort. "You sound like my father or something."