Jen sat in Nick's car, sobbing her eyes out. Christ, she hadn't cried this hard in a long time. But she had just broken both their hearts, all to spare them both more pain down the road. And yes, let him think she was valuing her job more than him. Let him believe that her career mattered more than their love. Let him continue to see her as strong and ambitious and clever, perhaps with a different set of priorities than him, but let him think she'd ended their relationship over something he couldn't really fault her for. Let him keep on thinking she was still as perfect as he'd once proclaimed as he kissed up and down her bare body.

Because as much as it hurt her to end it with Nick, she knew it would be so much worse for him to leave her again. Last time, she'd closed herself off from him rather than let him in to witness the devastation in her heart, and he'd left. She couldn't bear that again. And after spending five days with her mother, reverting back to her teenaged years, Jen realized that she was so unworthy of all that Nick saw in her, and ending it was a kindness to them both.

She had been lying in bed the night before, thinking about how she was worthless if she wasn't a Homicide detective, how it was the only thing she was ever good at, how her career was the only thing she could ever claim wasn't a complete failure. And Jen realized the way she spoke to herself, how her mother's constant badgering and pushing had led her to see herself as only as good as the job she did.

Nick deserved so much better than Jennifer could ever be for him. The love they shared, the happiness and devotion, none of that could last. It would turn ugly just like everything else. And if she didn't end it with him, she might have put her job at risk, and when Nick did finally take off his rose-colored glasses and realized how utterly broken she was, he'd leave again. And she'd be left with absolutely nothing.

Jen tried to take deep breaths and calm herself down. She reflected back on the morning since she'd arrived at work, hoping to process all of this rather quickly so she could go back to doing her job, the one thing she could count on.

He'd asked her to step outside. She'd been back for less than a minute. He couldn't wait. She couldn't really blame him. Five days was the longest they'd been out of contact since they started working on Homicide together. And just seeing him again had made her ache.

Nick took her out to his car for a bit of privacy. He gave her a long look and he knew. "You've decided to end it, haven't you?"

She smiled sadly. His voice was quiet and gravely with emotion.

"This isn't a casual fling," he informed her, as though she could have ever believed that.

"I know." And that's why she couldn't quite speak yet. The lump in her throat was too heavy.

"Do you?"

"Nick, this means everything to me."

"Great. That's the way I feel, too." He paused for a moment, watching her, praying he could bring her back from the edge. "Let's get married." She visibly jumped, turning her face to look at him finally. She chuckled at the absurdity of it. And maybe it was absurd. "Have kids," he added, hoping that he could keep her happy. Make her see that it wasn't so absurd after all. But it took him less than a second to realize what he'd said, bringing up exactly the wrong thing at a time like this. He tried to backtrack it, to frame it differently. "I've never wanted that with anyone before, but I want that with you." He'd been smiling but he turned gravely serious. No jokes. He needed her to understand. He'd been ready for this last time, when they thought they were going to have a child. He wanted it even more now.

"What if we do all that and in two years' time we split up?" she asked.

"That's worth taking the risk, don't you think?"

She needed to take a different tack, to make him believe her. "Yeah, but I'm the one taking all the risk. If we stay together, one of us is gonna have to leave Homicide, and you and I both know it's gonna be me."

He reached out to stroke her cheek, to touch her before she wouldn't let him anymore, to feel her beneath his hands and to know that this dream, this vision for his future, this love of his life was still real, just for now.

Jen had begun to cry in earnest now, his touch being her undoing as always. This was it. "Nick, I've devoted my life to this job. If I leave Homicide, I don't know who I am anymore," she sobbed.

"Okay. I'll transfer out."

No, that wasn't what she wanted. "You want a family..."

"I want you," he insisted, cutting her off.

"But I don't know if I'm ready to have children." I don't know if I can have children, she added silently, but she knew he'd understand her meaning.

"That's something we can decide in the future." He was desperate now, clinging to anything he could.

"I'm sorry. I just...I don't have the answer yet and it's not fair to keep you waiting until I do." And that was perhaps the truest thing she'd said to him all day. How desperately she wished she could be more for him and figure out to make this all work but there wasn't a solution that gave her everything and there wasn't any other way for them to stay together that wouldn't inevitably leave her with nothing.

"Bloody hell." His voice cracked. He done this before, been tossed aside by her. No matter what he did, he couldn't seem to get her to trust in him, in them. Couldn't seem to hold onto her or get her to stay. And even though he'd seen this coming, talked to Danielle about it, he didn't think it would hurt this much. He couldn't stand it. Couldn't bear that he'd failed again. He'd done everything right, he'd loved her and given her everything he could give. And it wasn't enough for her. He wasn't enough. Just as he'd predicted, she'd chosen the job over him. And he couldn't stand to look at her. Because that wasn't her fault. He never deluded himself that he could be everything to her. He just wished he was a little more. "I've got an interview to do," he murmured, getting out of his car.

"Nick!" She didn't want it to end this way, with him walking out. Again. But what could she do? She broke his heart. Again.

And after she had calmed herself down and gone back in, Jen desperately tried to avoid him and drown herself in work and prevent any contact between them. Even a single glance would tear her to pieces.

She couldn't be completely free of him, however. She watched as Nick unraveled in the briefing, snapping at Allie. Apparently he'd been rather aggressive in interview without preparing her, which wasn't like him. He usually got on so well with Allie. It was unusual to see him treat her with antagonism and not with that older brother mentoring attitude.

Jen visibly cringed to see him mouth off to Rhys and glare at Matt and shove chairs. It hurt her to see him like that. She was trying desperately to appear normal, focus on the job. But she'd had a few days to get used to the idea. It was too much to expect he be alright so quickly, to hide his hurt.

And she really had hurt him. She knew she had. But she needed to. It would be better for him this way. He'd be alright. He was strong. So much stronger than her. Jen had the job and the squad. This was how it should be. Nick would be himself again soon enough, and they'd go back to being friends and colleagues. Everything would turn out fine. It had to.