All The Ways a Heart Can Break

by Effieers

He remembers all that, and all the moments like that. And that's why he knows that if he has the chance to make her smile he'll always take it, even if it ends like this, even if it ends with her on a date with Roman and him alone, in his apartment, getting drunk, with only his self-hatred and pity to keep him company. / Adam turns up to the theatre only to see Roman there / fix-it

Fix-it for 3x18/19. Adam goes to the theatre, only to see Kim walk in with Roman. Angst with a half ending!

---

Adam stares at himself in the mirror, the self-doubt and uncertainty he's feeling staring back at him. There are so many reasons this is a bad idea, so many reasons why he should just get out of these clothes, why he shouldn't go out, why he should just stay at home and drink his weight in beer.

The probability of this going bad than good is high, that the chance that he'll be home again within in the hour, his heart torn afresh again, is too much of a possibility that he should just cut the going out part, and just skip to the self-hatred part of the evening.

If he had any sanity, any logic or rationality, he'd listen to that voice that quotes him the statistics, that tells him it gets harder and harder to hear her rejections, and it's not worth it. But Adam's team doesn't affectionately call him a bit of a dumbass for no reason.

It's not like this is a hasty decision. It's been days of confusion, of contemplation, of questioning and uncertainty. Days of weighing up the pros and cons, and despite the cons outweighing the pros, this is the conclusion he came to. That he might be getting rejected again, that he may have a rough evening ahead of him, but no matter how high those chances are, the small chance that it'll go well, that he'll make Kim smile, make her happy, is worth all the pain he's chancing.

Adam had been deep in concentration, so focused on the paperwork he was filling out, that when his phone had buzzed with the reminder which set off these chain of events, he had initially thought it was a text, not immediately recognising the difference in tone.

Assuming it had been some random text from his sister, or father, or even Kev seeing if he wants to escape from the monotony of paperwork and make a quick trip to the vending machine, he had picked up his phone, looking at it casually.

He wishes, even now days later, that he had realised it wasn't a text, that it was a reminder. That he had been prepared in some way for the punch to the gut the reminder caused, the way it didn't just remind him to make sure his suit was ready, but that it reminded him how much his life has changed since the day he made it, reminded him how much he's lost since.

Reminded him that his biggest concern isn't making sure that he doesn't prove Kim right, that he has to set a reminder so that Kim isn't right in her statement that he'll forget to make sure his suit is ready.

Reminded him that in the few months since he made that reminder, he's lost everything, lost his happiness, lost the future he thought he was going to have, lost his girl.

Reminded him of how he made the reminder with a smug grin, sitting on his bed, listening to Kim list all the examples of times he forgot to prep his clothing from the bathroom. Reminded him of how he pictured this going, of him getting his suit ready, of her realising he had, of the smug playful way he was going to wrap her up in his arms, trailing her skin with barely-there touches in the way that he knows gets her all bothered and needy for him, of how he was going to growl against her how she owes him an apology, of murmuring into her ear, telling her exactly how she could apologize to him.

Reminded him that he had made it when everything was okay, when he had Kim, when he was happy, when his heart was fine, unbroken, full of love.

When Adam didn't have to look back on his memories of Kim and wonder if she was actually happy, if she was actually smiling because she wanted to, because she was happy, content, or if it fake, that she was miserable and he just didn't notice.

When he didn't have to wonder, question, analyse, dissect all his memories of her, of all their interactions, didn't have to wonder if their playful banter was just that, if their little harmless and half-playful, affectionate arguments were really so little or harmless or if it was just another missed sign. Was she happy, in despair of him but happy, or was his habits, his casual forgetfulness really grating on her that much?

When all his memories of her wasn't tainted with these questions, when he could look back at them, and just get lost in the happiness, of the love, because they were happy memories with the love of his life. When he didn't have to wonder if they were really happy memories, or was it just her being miserable with him and him being an oblivious dick?

Adam had put down his phone after reading the words, turning back to his paperwork, trying to focus on the words and not on the agony twisting in his heart. All while trying to keep an impassive expression, maintaining that everything is okay, that he doesn't once again feel like the walls are too close and he can't breathe, not wanting his unit to realise something is wrong.

He had dismissed the notification, making it disappear from his phone screen, never to appear again, but the damage was done; there was no dismissing it from his mind.

From that point to now, Adam's been in hell, in a constant state of heartbreak, of confusion, of contemplation. It should've been just as easy as dismissing it from this phone, the reminder just another relic from his life before Kim left him. It was just something he set before and had forgotten about, there was no reason for it to affect him.

Maybe it'd cause him to drink a little more at night, causes his self-hatred increase, causes his mind be occupied by thoughts of just how much he fucked everything up. And it did, but it also changed things. It made him wonder what he should do about it, made him remember that Kim will have two tickets she ordered when they were together, and made him wonder if he should approach her about it, ask about it.

Made him wonder if he should offer to pay her back, wonder if he should maybe make sure he's fine if she wants to take someone else, like Nicole.

Made him wonder if he should tell her he'll still go with her, if she wants. Adam knows her, knows how she'll be in turmoil over these tickets as well, knowing how she hates wasting stuff, but also knowing how she hates going to things alone.

He had mulled over this for days. Kim had made it perfectly clear that she didn't want him to talk to her, didn't want him to discuss anything about them, about the engagement, about the life they were going to share together, and that should've made it easy for him. That he should've been able to stop thinking about that damn play, about the reminder, about her, but he couldn't. His thoughts constantly plagued by the question, that if he should ask her how they should proceed, inform her that he's still an option if she'll have him.

Adam had planned out what he would say to her, that he'd just casually bring it up when he sees her, or even just shoot her a casual text—ignoring how if his heart was beating even a fourth as it was when he was planning this he could hardly call it casual—saying that they were friends first, so if she needs company, he's there. As a friend.

Although if Adam is honest with himself, and the way thoughts of her have consumed so many of his thoughts since they met, Kim and him have never just been friends. It's not something he likes to reflect on, unless he's got her in his arms because that reminds him that he may feel like a bit of dick for it but she's worth it, but they've always had this spark, this connection between them. It's never not been a casual, at-ease state for him to just flirt with her, to watch her blush, to see her flirt back, and that's not friendship.

And yet again, if he's honest with himself, it wasn't just heartbreak, confusion and contemplation that he's been feeling these past few days. It's hope. He shouldn't, he should chase away, to squash all that hope with the memory of her leaving him, that hope and Kim shouldn't go hand in hand, not anymore, but despite all that, he hoped.

Hope, because this could be the thing he's been waiting for, the doorway in, the step to getting her to talk to him, to stand near him for more than thirty seconds, for her to look him in the eyes. Hope that maybe, just maybe, if he offered to go with her, it'll be the start of them again, that he could get her back.

In the end, he didn't approach her, didn't text her with that offer, just too caught up in his doubt and self-hatred. Caught up in the memory of her leaving him, caught up in the uncertainty he has towards all their happy moments. Caught up in wondering that if he didn't notice just how miserable she was with him, what if she agreed to let him accompany her out of politeness, and he doesn't notice that as well.

Up until a month ago, Adam had prided himself of knowing everything about her, of reading her so effortlessly, but he didn't see her leaving him, didn't see her being fine with the breakup, and now he's not sure of anything.

For all he knows, he could be wrong. Kim might not be in turmoil over these tickets, she may be assured and certain with what she wants to do with them, if she wants to go, if she wants to take anyone with her. He's been so wrong about everything else, why not this?

There's a part of him that wishes that would be that. But Adam doesn't have it in him for to let it go, he can't, no when Kim's concerned. He may not have asked her, might of chickened out, weighed down by the cons until it was too late, but he can't not do something.

So here he is, dressed in his suit—tie and all, despite how much he hates it—preparing to potential gets rejected. He hadn't originally planned to wear the tie, having planned to win Kim over with the undone buttons, but they're not together, he can't just flirt and seduce his way out if things, and he needs to show that he's just trying to be a friend, that he's serious and just doing something nice, not playing an angle.

Adam knows this is a bad plan. To not even ask her, or bring it up first, to just turn up outside. To see if she's decided to go, if she's taking her sister or even someone like Lindsay—they may not be together anymore, but he still notices things, like the two of them bonding.

But the thought of her turning up alone, feeling shy and out of place because of it, and knowing that he could make her night, make her happy, just by showing up is the only thing he needs for the resolve to stick to this plan, to ignore all the reasons why he shouldn't go.

---

Adam feels jittery all the way on the drive to the theatre. He tries to keep in mind how just turning up has done him good with Kim before, and that even if this doesn't set actions in motion to get them back together, he knows she'll appreciate the gesture from a friendship angle, maybe not even right now, but sometime, and that, that will be the stepping stone to them being friends at least.

He doesn't want them to be just friends, he wants so much more, but he'll take whatever gets her in his life again, what gets her talking to him again.

The traffic is worse than he predicted, and Adam's patience wears thin at it. Maybe on a different day, he'd not mind, but today he could feel it rise the pressure on his heart, and he keeps glancing at the time. Kim's always on time for things, always, so he had wanted to get there before she does, so he can catch her, and at this rate, he'll turn up at the same time and that'll throw everything off.

Luck must be on his side, because he arrives at a decent time. A bit too close to when Kim will surely be turning up, but Adam doesn't care about that, he's here, and that's what matters.

Adam has just about got to the other side of the road, leaning against the wall not too far down from the theatre doors when he spots Kim, getting out a taxi. There's a small crowd of people, blocking his path, but he's momentarily frozen, forgetting to move through the crowd, forgetting that he needs to move quickly to grab her attention, stunned by how she looks.

His heart skips a beat, beating a little too fast in his chest at the sight of her. She's wearing the yellow dress she brought home not that long after buying the tickets, the one she excitedly showed him, telling him it was for today. The one that spurred the whole conversation that led him to making the reminder. The one he had wanted to see on her so desperately, knowing she'd look so beautiful in it, the one he wanted to see on her so he could immediately take it off, knowing that as good as she looks in, it'll look better on his bedroom floor.

(The one he knows she'd give him the look, telling him a dress like this needs to be hung up, not just left on the ground, crumpled).

Kim looks just as beautiful as he imagined, more even, and Adam is overwhelmed by his desire, his need, his love for her and any uncertainty he felt about him being here leaves. Kim looks too beautiful to be alone, to go the evening without being utterly worshipped, to not be told just how beautiful she is.

And if the dress wasn't enough to rid him of his uncertainty, the unsure look upon her face would. Kim's expression is full of doubt, of nerves, of her own uncertainty, and for the first time in a month, Adam knows he's right, that he wasn't wrong, that she's been in her own turmoil over this, over turning up alone.

And all he wants to do is walk over to her, to smile at her, to tell her not to worry, that she won't have to have her mind run away with nerves the whole time, that she can just focus on it and not on how she thinks everyone is staring at her because she's alone.

Adam takes a step forward, readying himself to brush through the crowd, to get to her, his heart beating so, so fast. All the hope, the hopeful thoughts of what this may do, how it might help them get back to being them, that he's been pushing away breaks through all the barriers he put up to keep it away, because standing here, seeing her, Adam knows that he's right, that he's made the right choice turning up here.

And then, then just as quickly as the hope comes, it disappears, only leaving heartbreak and devastation in its trail.

Before Adam can get through the crowd, before he can grab her attention, out of nowhere, from the other side, Sean Roman steps out.

He smiles at Kim, and Kim smiles back. It's too loud and he's too far away to hear what they say, but he doesn't need to. He knows that smile. Roman holds out his arm and Kim—his Kim—links her hand through it, and they walk in together.

Together.

Kim with Roman. His Kim. His Kim walks in with him, with Sean Roman, linked with Roman when she should be with him. His Kim, wearing that dress, the dress she brought to wear on their date, the dress he dreamt about taking off her.

No, Adam thinks, the realisation coming down on him like a tonne of bricks. She's not his Kim, not anymore. That dress isn't marked for their dates, for his hands to slip under and do wicked things to her. Not now, not anymore.

Adam rips his tie off him, feeling too restricted, feeling like he can't breathe. It's not that realisation that's turning his stomach, making him feel like such a fool, he had expected that rejection, of Kim telling him that they're not them, that he shouldn't be here, that she's no longer his to turn up for anymore.

But never, never did he expect this. That she's not his Kim anymore because she's Roman's.

Back when Kim first booked these tickets, they had planned not to have him drive, but for them to catch a taxi, so they can drink, so they could go other places after and get drunk if they wanted to, so they could just focus on making out all the way back home—because Adam was so sure how this was going to go, because that's how their dates go, especially when they're doing something Kim likes.

And when he had left today, he had considered catching a taxi himself, that hope rearing it's head again, but he had squashed it, trying to not get ahead of himself. That even if him turning up made it so they could talk, made it so she'd give him another chance, that doesn't mean they'll be in the same place they were, the place that made it so hard to keep their hands of each other, the place that made getting a taxi a necessary.

Adam's never been more glad about a decision he's made than the one to dismiss the idea of a taxi, that he drove himself.

Seeing Kim with Roman has shocked him, hurt him, right to his core and he's driven, consumed, by the need to get away, to go home, needing to drink, needing to get all the emotions he's feeling out, drowned in alcohol.

He blanks on the drive, just driving, just needing to get home. And by the time he's at his place, dousing back a drink as soon as he's through the door, and then immediately gagging it up in the toilet, Adam has no clue what the traffic was like, if it was a long drive or short, all his mind focusing on is the image of Kim walking in with Roman.

Adam's stomach has never felt as unsettled as now, all his nerves on the journey there, and all he felt on the way back making him puke his guts up. He'd have hoped to drink his weight before this part of the evening.

There's so much thoughts, so much emotions swirling around. His heart feels like it's spitting in two; he hadn't thought he could feel more pain than he did when Kim left him, but he was wrong, this was so much worse. He's overwhelmed, confused and hurt, and feeling so betrayed.

Adam knew there was a high chance this evening wouldn't go well, he had prepared for the hurt, for the self-hatred he'd feel, the anger at how he let things get like this but he hadn't prepared for this. For her not being alone, not because she's taken her sister, but because she's with another man.

For her to be with not just any other man, but Roman.

The man that she knows infuriates him, gets under his skin, pisses him off like no other. The man who got her shot because he hadn't bothered to stop fighting with his ex while on the job. The man who had the audacity to feel self-pity for himself, to sass back at him when Adam's whole world felt so fragile.

Adam would've preferred just about anyone else. The thought of her moving on makes him feel queasy, makes him feel possessive of her in a way he's not allowed anymore, makes him want to scare any other man away from her, because he still feels like she's his, but he'd understand. She doesn't want to be with him, he let her down and she deserves only the best; he'd understand her moving on, no matter how much it hurt.

But the thought of her moving on with him, with Sean fucking Roman? It makes his skin crawl, makes him feel a white hot anger he doesn't like feeling, makes him feel so much more than the words jealousy and possessiveness could ever describe. The thought of him making her laugh, of him drinking with her, of him kissing her, tasting her, of him seeing her naked, of him fucking her on the same bed they had so many of their firsts on, it makes him feel sick in a way he's never felt before.

It's the thought of him, that bloody arsehole, getting to have her in ways that he's not allowed. It's the thought of him learning all her moans and screams, of learning how to make her squirm and beg, learning how she likes to be kissed, how she likes to be fucked, when Adam wanted so desperately to be the last man to ever experience Kim like that.

But it's so much more than that. It's him being an ass, that Roman looks down on all of intelligence, of her dream job. It's him getting her shot, it's him being an ass to her on his very first day. It's that Kim deserves the best, and the best is certainly not Sean Roman, that he's in no way worthy enough to be Kim's man.

And it's that Adam knows he, himself, isn't perfect, that he clearly fucked up in so many ways because she left, that he clearly isn't a man deserving to be hers either, if he drove her away, but surely, surely, he's more worthy of her than Roman.

It's that Kim has made it clear to him that she doesn't want him to be near her, to ask her what the hell, to work things out. It's that he's clearly hurt her in such a way, even if he's still so unclear on the whys and hows, but that surely, he's worth more to try and work things out with, if she's in a place where she's with Roman.

This is what he deserves, he thinks to himself as he takes yet another drink. He's gotten himself off his bathroom floor, to his sofa, and now has made good progress on his plan to drink his weight in alcohol.

Adam doesn't even know why he thought he could be happy. Nothing in his life has ever gone to plan. His parents' divorce. Their petty arguing and insistence on putting him in the middle. The way his sister was let off so much more than him, that both parents hold him to an impossible standard, yet his sister—who's so much more of a screw-up than him—can do no wrong.

The way he let way too many things stand in the way of achieving his dream, the way that even now he has his dream job he's always feeling as if the carpet will be pulled from under him.

As soon as he realised just how much Kim meant to him, just how much she was the One—a concept he had always scoffed at, too much memories of his parents yelling—he should've known it would end like this. With her leaving him, with her hating him, with her wanting a man who's so beneath her over him.

Adam learnt very early in life that happiness, especially happiness in all areas of his life, is not something he can have. He thought he had it with Kim, he was content for the first time in his life, but of course it wouldn't have lasted, that he would drive her away, because how could he be anyone's happy ending?

He wishes he didn't feel content for that short time, that he hadn't accepted that his life would be forever entwined with her's, because it hurts him in a way he's never felt before that it isn't true.

Kim was the first person to look at him and truly believe in him. The first person who comforted him when things went bad, the first person who told him he could cry, scream, do nothing, anything he needed, and that she'll be right by his side—the first person he believed would actually be there, that he could be him and that she'd stay. Because she loved him, for him, no qualifiers or expectations.

Kim had told him that she'll never leave him, that he was her forever, and Adam, ever the fool, he believed her. Believed that he was worthy of her, that he would be enough for her, that they could ride the waves of marriage together.

Idiot.

Adam knocks back another drink, trying to get the image of her with Roman, trying not to picture the two of them together. Laughing. Having fun. Doing all the things he should be doing with her.

Anger bubbles up in him; how could she take him to a place they were going to go together? Letting Roman use his ticket, letting him see her in that dress? He wants to scream, to let all the anger at the thought of her and Roman out, and he wants to cry, all his self-hatred and heartbreak overwhelming him, telling him this is exactly what he deserves.

He deserves to not have a nice memory of her, to have to constantly wonder if that's a moment he fucked up in. He deserves to know that she's moving on, that Roman's finally getting what he's so clearly been after since they met. He deserves to have nothing but his self-hatred and pity, knowing he lost her, because she was the best thing in his life and he fucked up, like he does everything.

Adam's thoughts swirl all night. Wondering when it all fell apart, wondering how he let it get like this, wondering how she could even consider Roman. He knows he has no right to ask her to take his feelings into account, but god, it hurts so much that she'd go for Roman.

It hurts in a way that having her hand back that ring didn't. It hurts in a way that coming home to see every inch of her was gone from his apartment didn't. It hurts in a way that having her move from his touch, telling him she's fine despite breaking his heart didn't. It hurts in a way that sleeping in the bed, alone, that used to smell so strongly of her, of him, of them, but now smells only like him and his tears doesn't.

It hurts way down into his heart, ripping at it, pulling at it, making him feel pain and heartbreak. Because it's over, she's not his girl. He thought he had accepted that, he thought he had understood, but seeing her with Roman, and knowing he can't say anything because he can't tell her he was there, can't let her know exactly just how much of a fool he is, it tells him just how much he hadn't accepted it, and how much he wishes he had, so he never had to feel like this.

He wishes he had never set that reminder, that he hadn't decided to go, that he wasn't so affected at the thought of her face at being alone. That he could just move on, that he could just forget all about her and the future he was so sure he'd have.

And more than anything, he wishes he actually felt that way. That he could believe that he'll ever be able to get her out of his head, that there could've been a scenario where he didn't turn up, that he didn't go out tonight, that he could've left her alone.

From the moment they met she's been in his mind, always there, always on his thoughts. Every moment they've had together is imprinted on him, memories he'll never forget. He remembers the time they did street guard duty together and she moved those hips, he remembers the first time she kissed him, the first time he tasted her, the second time she kissed him and the way that she had came completely undone at his touch.

He remembers it all. All their memories together, everything. And that's how he knows no matter how much he'd be hurting less if he didn't go tonight, it was never an option.

Because he remembers when she saw the tickets for sale, how they were on the sofa, him sitting and her lying with her head on him. He remembers how she sat up, looking so excited and gleeful as she told him about it.

Remembers how her face faulted for a second when she saw his amused grin, and remembers how adoringly she smiled at him when he reassured her he was just amused at her sudden movements, that he'd be honoured to take her, that she should absolutely buy the tickets.

Because he remembers how after she had ordered them, she had sat on his lap, had kissed him deeply, immediately slipping her hands up his shirt. Remembers how she looked him in his eyes and told him how much she loves him, remembers how she held up her hand and smiled at her ring before kissing him again. Remembers how in sync their bodies are, how connected, entwined they become with such ease. Remembers how she had got them both half undressed so quickly, so passionately, and he remembers how she whispered at him, telling him to fuck her.

He remembers all that, and all the moments like that. And that's why he knows that if he has the chance to make her smile, make her day he'll always take it, even if it ends like this, even if it ends with her on a date with Roman and him alone, in his apartment, getting drunk, with only his self-hatred and pity to keep him company.

---

The morning comes to him as an unwelcome, way too early, surprise.

Sometime around 3am and after god knows how many drinks, Adam had fallen asleep. On his couch, typically. He vaguely remembers thinking he should've moved, gone to his bed, gone and got ready for sleep, but he was too weighed down with his self pity and hatred. Too weighed down with how much it hurts to crawl into a bed that feels too big because it's a bed she's not in, too weighed down with knowing it would've hurt even more now he knows she'll never be in it again, now he knows she'll be in Roman's bed from now on.

Adam's phone wakes him up, luckily it being because of his alarm, not Voight calling with a case. It's too early, too bright somehow, his head hurting, throbbing, feeling quite like there was a stampede in his brain, but none of that compared to the aching in his heart. They say heartbreak isn't physical, but Adam sure feels as if his heart has been torn in two.

There's an aching in his body, starting at his back, cricked from how he slept, but it goes into his neck, into his head, into his legs, making Adam pray and hope that it's a quiet day today, that they don't catch a heavy case, not wishing to have to run, or even move too much.

If anyone was around, which of course no one is, because he's unlovable, because Kim left him, because everyone leaves him, he'd insist he's not feeling very lucky, because why would he? He's got a hangover from hell, his heart has been ripped to shreds by the woman he was going to make his wife, and his whole world has been wrecked but he should, and he does.

Not because of Kim, or any of that whole mess, but that because of his stupid fucking decision to turn up, he set his alarm for earlier, anticipating this, anticipating the hangover. Anticipating that maybe, just maybe—that foolish hope appearing again—he'll want to get up earlier so he can truly appreciate waking up with her in his arms again, so that he could talk to her, or maybe so he can worship her body.

In his bed, in her bed, in either of their showers, he wasn't particularly fussy in his hope, he just wanted to make sure, had the evening gone that way, that he'd have ample time to make her moan, to say his name like a reverent prayer, to have her grasp at him, to pull at him, to come undone once again under him, to worship her in ways that makes up for their lost times, keeps either of them from questioning things, keep them from ever letting them get like that again.

A foolish hope. One he never should've entertained even for a second, because it had such little chance of ever happening. But he did, because he's an idiot, but his idiocy is serving him well because now he has ample of time to shower, to wash off his hangover to the best of his abilities, to wake up, to make himself look presentable for work.

He's already destroyed one area of his life, he'd appreciate keeping his career afloat. Especially when he feels like he already walks on thin ice.

Another reason to be feel somewhat lucky, that Voight wasn't calling him into work early. Because if he did, and Adam had to leave, now, had to head into work now—Adam's not sure if he'd have a job. Intelligence is an elite unit, and Adam already knows how lucky he is to be in it, and if he showed up like this? Hungover, looking absolutely miserable and probably smelling like something they pulled out a river, Adam would think his days would be numbered.

The long shower Adam takes, and the two cups of coffee he drinks before he even leaves the apartment, helps him to wake up, to feel more alert. He swallows back some tablets for the pounding in his head, needing to be able to think without it hurting.

He's not sure if it is the shower, the coffee, the medicine or the combination by all three, but by the time Adam's heading out the door for work, he's thinking a little more rationally, all the negative emotions that swirled around him feeling a little lighter, clearer.

The thought that maybe he was reading into things, that his self-hatred caused him to jump to wrongful conclusions, is prevalent in his mind as he heads to work. Kim inviting Roman with her doesn't necessarily mean what he assumed, that it could be just like her inviting Lindsay, or Atwater.

Adam may see Roman as a dick, as someone not worth Kim's time or friendship, but Kim doesn't. A fact that irritated him in their relationship, still irritates him, that Kim's personality allowed her to see the good in people that doesn't deserve it, irritated him because she shouldn't have to expend energy on people who aren't, in his mind, worth it.

But it feels almost like a positive right now, because Adam's mind is working hard to tell him, rationally, that Kim just invited Roman because he's her friend, because Adam knows Kim takes partnership seriously, and if she was feeling uncertain turning up some place alone, her partner would be someone she may consider.

He might have spent all night picturing them on a date, of them grabbing a bite to eat and drinks after, of Roman walking her to her door, of him maybe even getting a kiss out her, maybe more, but right now, all Adam can think is that the possibility that's just his hatred for himself, the jealousy he feels towards everyone else still getting to be close to Kim when he can't, the possessiveness he feels over her time because he knows he doesn't get a slice anymore, that's making him see Roman being there as anything over than friendship.

The thought of Kim spending time with Roman, on a night that was earmarked for them, even platonically still turns Adam's stomach. He barely liked Roman getting to spend time with Kim when Kim was still his, and now Kim's not his, and Roman still gets to monopolise her time makes him feel irrational emotions he wishes so desperately he didn't feel—he never wants to be That Guy.

But Adam has no foot to stand on about not wanting her to be with Roman in a romantic sense, knowing he doesn't own her, knowing she doesn't owe him anything, and that means he has even less to stand on about not wanting her to spend time with Roman platonically. It may make him feel jealous, uneasy, and he recognises he couldn't do anything about it no matter what it was, but Adam can't deny how much better he feels at the thought of it being just a friend thing.

All night the image of her walking out that taxi, looking so, so stunning, yet so nervous had been playing around and around in his mind. How he had read her expression at being nervous about being alone, when it was because she was on a first date—or even a second, third; his mind ran away from him—and a date with Roman. How she had still worn the dress she picked up when she was his, not Roman's, how they had linked arms and walked in together.

He hadn't wanted to keep thinking about that moment, drinking and drinking to try and drown the images out of his mind. But it still circled around his mind, pulling at his heart, reminding him of the gaping hole Kim had left in it.

And now he has more clarity, a more rational take on what he saw, that she wasn't nervous about a date, just her apprehensive normal self, that she was wearing the dress just because she brought it, there's an ease of tension in his body.

Adam's not a fool again; he knows even if Kim was just with Roman as a friend, it still doesn't mean that he's in a better position to win her back, that she wouldn't have rejected him last night. All those realisations he had, that he needs to make sure he continues accepting she's not his, that he needs to try to get her out of his head, that she has made it perfectly clear that he's nothing to her anymore, all those are still needed, necessary, for him, that friends or not, it doesn't change anything.

That's a thought that aches his heart, a thought that makes him hope that work will serve as a good distraction today. Adam doesn't want to have to give up on her, on them, on seeing the ring back on her finger one day. He doesn't want to make himself move on from her, make her stop occupying his every thought. But he has to.

Needs to, if last night taught him anything. Kim may not have moved on with Roman, but she will, with someone, and last night showed him just how wrecked he'll feel when that day comes, so he needs to get her out of his mind before it does.

For his sake. He needs to put himself first, even if that hurts, hurts because it'll mean moving on from her, hurts because she always said that to him, that he should learn to do that, about his father, about his sister.

---

They've caught a case before Adam's even arrived at the district. He walks into the unit, the boards already set up, and they're caught up. It's not long until Adam learns that why they have the case is because Lindsay stumbled upon the victim—a nineteen year old girl who was kidnapped—and that she stumbled upon her with Kim.

It's something that makes Adam's heart hurt, twisting, aching. The knowledge that he needs to get her out if his mind is still fresh, yet Adam finds himself wanting to know why Kim and Erin were hanging out, what they were talking about, how Kim feels about this new friendship, unable to stand there being facts about Kim Burgess he doesn't know, facts that he's not allowed to ask about, because he's not hers anymore.

And it makes his heart twist because as soon as he learns that Kim was there when they discovered the girl, all he wants to do is go find her, wanting—no, needing—to find her, to comfort her, to hold her and ask if she's okay, to make sure she is okay. It's not his job, not anymore, but no matter how much he reminds himself of that, the aching need deep within him to go to her, to be with her, doesn't lessen.

Adam wonders if it ever will, no matter how much he knows he needs it to, for his own sake, for his own survival. And he wonders if it ever can as he knows, oh he knows, despite knowing he shouldn't, another thing last night taught him, that he doesn't ever want it to lessen, to go away because no matter how much it hurts that he needs her, needs to be her person, needs to be the one to comfort her, and the fact that he can't, the thought of no longer wanting that, needing that, hurts more.

He doesn't have much time to think or feel all these things, the case demanding his focus. He doesn't even have time to wonder if that's a good or bad thing that he doesn't have the time. Instead Adam pushes away all his thoughts and feelings—something he's getting rather good at doing—and focuses on the case.

The case takes off quickly, and Adam quickly finds himself caught up in it, distracted by tracking down this information, or finding out that. He's not one of the officers leading the case, that falling onto Lindsay and Al, having struck a personal cord with the both of them, but that's good, that means he can absorb himself into doing the background tasks necessary so they can focus on the victim and kidnapper.

Absorb himself into his work so he doesn't have to think about Kim, about how much it hurts that they'll be things he'll no longer get to know about her, about how despite his more rational thoughts this morning, he still can't get the image of her walking in to the theatre with Roman, about how he so desperately wants to know if it was a date, or just a friendship thing.

And it almost works, almost helps him think that perhaps he'll go a work day without yearning for Kim, to know how she is and what she's doing, almost helps him get all thoughts of Sean fucking Roman out of his mind, and what Roman might be getting to do with his—no, not his anymore—girl.

But then he's downstairs, needing to head out, to go get some information relevant to the case and Roman's at Platt's desk.

"Ruzek," Roman calls, and Adam just about remembers why he's behind the desk, that Platt's on furlough in anticipation for her wedding, and he wishes he didn't remember, didn't have to remember that it should be him and Kim having time off, that they should be getting ready for their wedding because the pain at the reminder is almost too much.

Despite that, Adam maintains a cool expression, a cool air. He approaches the desk, for whatever Roman wants. If this had been last night, Adam's anger and jealousy would be through the roof, would be wanting to reach over the desk and... Adam's not sure what he would've wanted to do, but feeling nothing but a mild annoyance towards the man was certainly not what he would've thought.

But it's how he feels, the rational thought that Kim and Roman are just friends, that Kim's not going to move on with him, with a man so beneath her calming his more negative emotions. Adam still can't help the irritation he feels towards the other man, an irritation that's been there from the start of he's being honest, but that's it.

Platt rules behind that desk with a iron fist, effortlessly putting the fear of her into every and any officer that dares cross the threshold into the 21st. It's admirable, everyone freely admits, how she does so. But Roman doesn't have that effect, doesn't look like someone admirable, someone fearful, someone demanding of the upmost respect. He just looks like a lackey, doing menial tasks and Adam would be lying if he said that wasn't a factor in how calm he feels approaching the desk.

It's hard to feel jealousy, anger, towards him when Adam is reminded just how different they are. Adam will never demean the role of beat cops—his dad, after all, is one, no matter the reason why—but he feels a little smug satisfaction at the reminder that's all Roman is. Especially today, when Roman's stuck behind a desk, no doubt doing Platt's most boring tasks, and Adam's working a case.

But then Roman continues. Asking about some laptop Adam signed out—and then back in—a few days ago. Questioning if Adam knows where it is, because apparently Roman can't find it. And the anger returns, that Roman's seriously questioning him about this, choosing to imply what he is.

And then Kim comes out the back, and Adam locks eyes onto her for a brief second, and then Adam's dismissing Roman, telling him he's got a case and is leaving because he has to.

Because last night's anger, and jealousy, and all these horrible emotions that Adam hates feeling because he's not that kind of guy, returns and he needs to go, needs air, needs to breathe before he looses it.

Because he still doesn't know what the fuck last night was. But he knows that it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter if Roman agreed to go with her on a date or as a friend, because his intentions was the same. It doesn't matter what Kim asked of him, because Roman wants more. Wants her.

And now, now Adam can see clear as day that Roman isn't going to hesitate, isn't going to maintain some sort of respect for both him and Kim, and everyone they mutually know and work for, can see that Roman is absolutely planning, or already is, to put the moves into Kim.

Had this been months ago, this wouldn't make Adam feel like this. Not because months ago Kim was still his, but because the rationality of Kim being her own person, that it doesn't matter how into her Roman is, because what matters is that Kim doesn't reciprocate, that Kim would never go there, would be enough to not make him feel this way.

But this isn't months ago, this is now. Now, after a month of questioning, of analysing, of doubting all his memories of Kim, of questioning whether he knows her as well as he thought, of questioning if there's things he missed.

Now, Adam's not sure. Not sure if Kim won't return Roman's advances, that maybe she won't, but maybe when he does, maybe she will. He's been so wrong about her recently, he'd nearly believe down is up, and up is down. Adam would like to be confident, that Kim would never go for a man so beneath her, but he can't. Not now, not when he's not sure of anything, of what went wrong. Especially with Roman going about it like that, that he's not even having a shred of decency, that Roman is busting his balls to make himself look better to Kim.

And Adam's not sure that even if Kim can see what he's doing, if she'll even mind. Everything is so uncertain, and it makes Adam sick, makes him need to get out of the district, to breathe, to try and focus on the case and the case only.

Any hope of Adam having a day without an ache in his heart, without feeling sick, without feeling all these possessive and jealous emotions is evaporated. Adam is glad he's getting rather good at pretending he's okay, that he's not feeling like this, so that none of his team notices something is up.

Especially when Roman is upstairs, asking about inventory again. Roman asks Jay, and Adam's doing work but he still can hear. Can hear the nice, non accusatory way Roman asks Jay about it, hears how the two men have a nice laugh and joke about it. And that only confirms what Adam already knows, that Roman is giving him a hard time and him only, that Roman is trying to appear as a better guy than he actually is, and Adam has to stop the urge to yell this all at Roman.

When Roman yet again asks about the laptop, Adam fixes his eyes to his computer screen, trying to help himself to remain calm. Trying not to confront the man, trying not to snap at him, trying not to appear like there's nothing he wants to do more than ring Roman's neck.

Adam nearly gets through the whole day without loosing his cool. The case keeps him busy, especially when they realise there's a third girl out there, and then everything is wrapped up and Adam's going up to intelligence, to clock out for the day. And for a brief moment, he thinks that he may feel awful, that he'll be drinking again tonight, that he'll have to resist punching a wall, but despite all that, he thinks he can be proud of himself, that he got through the day without throttling Roman.

And then Roman calls out to him again. Because of course he did, because Adam can't catch a break, because nothing—from his childhood to his love life—ever goes well or right for him.

Roman asks about the laptop again, and Adam looks at him. His fucking face giving him that look, that look that at a glance seems innocent, seems neutral, seems like he's just doing his job. That look that has that undercurrent of smugness to it. That look that has a glint in his eye which tells Adam just how much he's enjoying this.

And then he sees Kim. Sees her expression, the tenseness in her shoulders, her slightly bowed head, the way she's just wishing for this situation to be over. The way Adam can immediately tell that Kim doesn't want a scene.

And just like that, something in him, something deep inside snaps.

Because Kim isn't tense about Roman. She isn't hoping that Roman won't make a scene. She isn't thinking this is only a situation because of Roman's kneading. Adam wishes it was, oh he does, but it's not.

Something snaps in him, because Kim is acting as if he's the problem.

And before Adam knows it, he's yelling. Shouting about this whole thing, calling out what exactly Roman is doing, what game he's playing. He looks at Kim, Kim who's still looking at him like he's the problem, looking as if he's why this whole thing is happening, who's looking at him as if she has no bloody clue what kind of game Roman is playing.

All Adam's felt since she handed back the ring, all he felt last night after seeing her walk into the theatre with him, with another man, with Roman, when she should've been with Adam, all of it boils over, snapping.

Adam's always been a bit of a hothead, a bit of a typical guy, a little bit of an ass. A mix of how he was raised, of canaryville, of his dad, of his general disposition. But he's never been That Guy, always keeping firmly on the 'gentlemanly' side of being an utter arse, and that's something Adam has always prided himself on. That he might have a temper, but he never crosses that line.

But a month of pressing down all his feelings, a month of wondering what went wrong, wondering if his memories are right, and then spending the whole night imagining Roman with his girl releases something inside him, reaching his limit and all he wants to do is hurt her, push her away in the way she's been doing to him.

"You know what? You want to date her? Be my guest." Adam spits at Roman, knowing that he'll regret those words, knowing that the hurt in her expression will haunt him to the end of his days, but unable to stop the words from leaving him. Knowing what he'll feel about this in the future doesn't matter, doesn't factor in at all when all he wants now, in the present, is to hurt her.

Adam doesn't stay long, just glancing one last time at Kim as she yells after him about the fucking stupid laptop. A laptop apparently she believes he hasn't returned, a laptop he knows he has, but apparently she's choosing Sean fucking Roman over him. Him, the man who was her fiancé, the man she was meant to marry, the man she was meant to have children with. Him, the man who she said she's never loved anyone the way she loved him, the man who she said she'll never leave, the man she said she'll always have his back.

Him, that's who she chooses to doubt. Not the man who got her shot, not the man who's putting the moves on her not that long after she got out a relationship, not the man who's never respected Kim, or her job aspirations from day one. Him.

And that, that just says it all.

---

Adam's got a storm cloud over his head the whole journey home, his knuckles sheet white from how hard he's gripping the steering wheel. Anger doesn't even begin to cover how he feels. Adam's not even too sure if there's a word in the English language that can adequately describe exactly what he's feeling. He's feeling angry, but sad, jealous but defeated... he's feeling everything and yet, he almost feels numb, numb from just how much he feels.

It's not even that Roman is doing this, because on some level, Adam already expected it. Adam can handle that, he can even—to an extent—handle Kim leaving him, handle Kim shutting him down and out. All that, it hurts like hell, but Adam can handle it, can deal, or at least learn how.

But what Adam can't handle is how Kim looked at him. How she thought the whole situation was his fault, how she clearly believes he could steal a laptop, how she believes that if he wasn't 100% certain that he returned the laptop that he wouldn't try and find it, that she believes he'd just dig his heels in and deny all.

As if she's forgotten just how much he loves being a cop, as if she's forgotten just how grateful he is for this job, for the chance to work in Intelligence. As if she's forgotten how he carries the stigma of being from Canaryville around on him, like he wasn't raised with uncles getting in trouble with the law, as if she's forgotten how he knows how close he was to going down that route, as if she really thinks he'd risk all this for a stupid fucking laptop.

And that is what Adam can't handle.

The first thing Adam does as soon as he gets home is open up the beer he brought on the way home, gulping it down. He doesn't want to waste any time, needing to get it in his system, needing to feel the alcohol because feeling all this without it is unbearable.

Drinking this much two nights isn't a great idea, but the idea of riding out this night without beer is unfathomable. He recognises that he may have to call in sick to work tomorrow, and the thought of that, the thought of endangering his job makes him sick to the stomach, but the thoughts spinning through his mind is worse.

Adam finishes the first beer in record time, but before he opens the next, he strips down, deciding to first take a shower. He's not particularly in need of one, having not done much strenuous activity today. He didn't even partake in the digging up the concrete. But he needs it, needs to feel the water on him, needs it to calm him down a few degrees, to stop him from wanting to punch the wall—or, preferably, Roman—before he gets more beers in him. Before he might wake up in a cell himself.

After he showers, after he calms down, that's when he can drown himself in beer. That's when he can chase away the questions of what went wrong, of why Kim hates him so much, of what happened that made her believe Roman over him, to doubt his character, with alcohol. Adam feels so angry, so lost, so self destructive he hates that he can't just get pissed, that he has to be responsible when he feels like doing anything else. But Roman's already got his girl, his Kim, Adam will be damned if he costs him his job.

Adam's half way through his second beer when the door knocks. Adam looks up at the door from the sofa, his body feeling so, so tired he debates not getting up, not answering it. But then the knocks come again, heavier and louder, and accompanied by a voice.

"Adam! Open this door right now!" Kim's angry yell comes through the door and Adam hates how his immediate reaction is to jump straight up, to immediately head to the door at the sound of her voice, not even hesitating about if he should.

He's so angry, and from the sound of it, this isn't a happy social call but Kim's his weakness, his heart, his world and despite everything, he can't not answer. No matter how much he thinks it'll better if he didn't.

Kim's expression is one of utter anger, a look of complete disapproval and irritation on her face. She's standing there, eyebrows furrowed, arms folded. It's an expression that would make any hardened criminal piss themselves, and Adam must really hate himself because all he can think is how hot she looks when she's angry.

This is the first time she's been here, been at his door, willingly seeked him out in a month, and she's angry, he's angry, and yet he can't help that thought. He never can when Kim's concerned, even more why he's such a fucking fool and an idiot.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" Kim spits at him, pure anger and rage in her voice. There's still a part of him that just wants to melt with how hot she looks, but Adam's own anger rears its head again, coming out in the form of sarcasm.

"Adam Ruzek," He responds, watching as Kim's eyes darken at it. She rolls her eyes at him, pushing past him to storm into the apartment. She brushes him as she does so, and Adam tries so desperately to not think about how the slight touch felt like electricity, trying not to think that's the closes she's been to him in weeks. Trying not to think that finally she's back in his place, trying not to think, to hope, that when she leaves, the smell of her will remain, to leave him with some piece of her.

"Please, let yourself in," Adam continues with his sarcasm, shutting the door and turning to face her. He's just in time to see the anger flash in her eyes again. He's making it worse, he should be trying to de-escalate but she's not the only one hurt, angry and it's been a long month. The thought of trying to remain calm is one not even possible.

"Seriously, Adam? Seriously? This is how you're going to be after...after fucking that." Kim snaps at him, her voice raising. She takes off her coat, and Adam would get happy at the gesture, would get happy at the thought that maybe this means she's going to be here a while, but he knows better. Knows how warm she gets when she's pissed off, knows that the gesture just shows how pissed she is.

"I mean, seriously, Adam? 'Be my guest'. What am I, some piece of meat, some property? And what was you thinking, yelling like that in my work place?" Kim snaps, and Adam can't help but scoff.

"Your work place? It's mine, too, if you remember. And maybe I was thinking I don't want some uniform getting on my case about a stupid laptop—which I returned, by the way, not that you'll believe me—just because he wants to get his dick wet," Adam snaps back.

"Oh, come on." Kim rolls her eyes. "Enough of this, enough of this stupid pissing contest. Sean doesn't want to date me, and that's not even the issue! Adam, do you ever think? It's not the same for you; women cops gets such rough time as it is without their exes making a fucking scene in their work place."

"Me? God, Kim, can't you see I'm not at fault? It's your fucking so called partner that is, he's the one who's bitching about some laptop, who's busting my balls just because he wants to fuck you. I didn't make the scene, he did." Adam's carefully kept anger, the anger he's tried and tried to repress this past month is let loose.

"Oh, yeah, sorry I must've misremembered. It wasn't you telling Sean he could date me, like I'm your property, like I don't matter, like he needs permission from you." Kim growls at him. "You really don't ever think, do you? Do you know how much fucking rumours are going to go around now? Already too many people whisper and point without my ex yelling like that. And, god, insinuating that about Sean?"

A little guilt sneaks into Adam's heart at the mention at the rumours, at the whispers. Sometimes he can forget just how much she gets a rougher time than him, than all the men in their district. He takes a breath.

"You're right. Sorry. I shouldn't have said that," Adam admits, and he sees Kim loose some tension, her expression softening and if he was a smart man, he should've stopped there. But he's learning more and more that when it comes to Kim he's nothing but a fool. So he continues.

"I was wrong about that. But I'm right about Roman. Kim, c'mon, he's wanted to get in your pants practically from one day. And he had no fucking decency, we break up and immediately he's sniffing around." In Adam's head, he's making a valid point. In his head, he's pointing out how disrespectful it is to her that she's just ended a relationship and he's not even giving her time to get over it before he's making his play. But from the way her body tenses back up, the anger flaring once more, somewhere it got lost in translation.

"Oh, yeah, because it's only the man who gets a say? That I'm your property until you give the all clear, that I'm available. That he's 'sniffing' on your territory without your explicit permission? Is that it?" Kim scoffs. "Sean doesn't even see me that way. And you know what, it doesn't matter! Because guess what, it's not up to you, or Sean, but me. Me."

"That's not what I meant. Really, look, I promise. But, c'mon, you've got to see the game he's playing. He busts my balls, makes him look like the tough guy, so he can fuck you. I'm a guy, Kim, I know this even if you want to be in denial," Arguably, Adam's biggest flaw is his stubbornness, as he digs his heels in.

His mind should be telling him to abort, to stop, to just shut up but all his repressed emotions from the last month and night is flooding out of him, flooding out in anger and self destructive hatred for himself.

"Kim, either your blind to not see that he's into you, or...or you're defending him because you know I'm right, because you've already fucked him, you're already fucking him!" Adam accuses, reaching deep down in to his own hurt, and pulling out the most hurtful thing he could say.

"How could you even say that?!" Kim rages back.

"How could I not? What, am I meant to see my girl go on a date with that arse, see him use the ticket meant for me and not see it for what it is? That you're sleeping with him, that he's gotten you in bed? For all I know, he could be the reason you ended it, so you could fuck him. Maybe you wanted off the hook." Yet again, Adam knows he'll regret these words but he can't stop them from tumbling out.

"How dare you?" Kim practically growls, her voice low and trembling with rage. "How fucking dare you?"

She looks more angry than he's ever seen her, and yet again, if he was a smart man he'd try and look as harmless and pathetic as possible, to try and curb her rage. But he's not, so he stands tall, stubborn, glowering as deep at her that she is at him.

"I can't believe you'd say that, that you'd think that! That I'd just sleep with Sean like that, that I'd end us to do that. I can't believe you'd say that, that you even dare to have the audacity to, have the audacity to even care about who I fuck when you didn't care about showing up for my Mom, that you didn't care enough to argue against your dad, that you didn't care enough to help us find a place to live, a place that is ours, not yours or mine, ours, that you didn't care enough to plan our fucking wedding. How could you say that, stand there and act as if you were not enough for me, when I wasn't enough for you? That I wasn't enough to marry, to build a life with, to come first to your work and to your fucking father." Kim's voice breaks at that, and Adam watches as she swallows, her hands shaking by her side, and she shakes her head.

"I can't believe you. You're not even half the man I thought you were." Kim's voice is low now, a calmness to it. Adam doesn't know if it's that, the tears that have pricked in her eyes or the broken, hurt look on her face that hurts him the most.

"You know, I've spent this past month feeling so guilty, so bad that I ended this. I've spent so many nights crying my eyes out over you, over this decision and wondering if I made the right choice. Feeling bad for you, you—when I did this for my sake, for my mental health, to protect myself from more heartbreak. Because you didn't want me, didn't want to marry me in the way I wanted you. And for what? For you to even say that? I shouldn't have spent so much time on you, feeling that guilt, because I see now I made the right choice." Kim's voice sounds so broken, so lost, so empty and she wipes the tears that have fallen from her eyes. There's a tenseness, a stiffness to her jaw, like she's angry at herself for feeling this way, angry at herself for daring to cry.

The past twenty four hours has shown Adam that his heart could be broken more than it was, more than it was when she left him. He hadn't thought it was possible, but seeing Kim with Roman in that dress, seeing Kim look at him like he's the problem broke his heart even more, tore it into pieces. And naïvely, Adam thought he had finally had his heart hurt the most it could be.

He knows he was wrong to think that, now. Now Kim's looking at him with that broken expression, now Kim's crying because of what he said to her, now Kim is looking at him like she has no idea who he is, looking at him as if he's a stranger.

Adam's heart isn't just broken, torn, at her expression. It's ripped out of him, twisting in such an achingly painful way at her expression. At her words.

Everything Adam had been feeling, all the anger and jealousy, all those horrible awful emotions he was feeling evaporates at her words, her words sucker punching him in the gut, stealing his breath and breaking his heart all over again.

His expression falls, all the anger leaving his body. He reaches for her, impulsively, instinctively, needing to be with her, needing to have her in his arms, needing to kiss away her tears, needing to tell her just how much he loves her, that his heart beats for her, that she's his heart, his air, his world.

Adam only takes a small step towards her, reaching out his arms. If things were good between them, if this was when they were together and happy, he would reach for her arms, grasping at her, pulling her towards him, pulling her into his arms. But things aren't good between them, so the motion makes her take a small step back, stepping away from his advancing arms. And Adam's heart breaks all over again.

"Kim," Adam's own voice sounds just as lost, as empty, as broken as hers. "Kim, how could you even think that I didn't want to marry you? That I don't care about you, about the life we were going to have? I proposed, remember? Of course I wanted to marry you, god, Kim, I still do—with my every fibre,"

Adam's voice is shaky, and there's a part of his mind, sounding much like Disco Bob, that is telling him to pull himself together, but he ignores it, has no choice but to ignore it, his mind too filled with Kim's words, of what she just said. Of how he's starting to realise what went wrong, if she could even think that.

"Kim, darlin', never doubt that you aren't enough for me. You were, you are." Adam runs a hand through his hair. "I don't deserve you, I'm not even close to being worth enough for you, but Kim, you're my... You're my world." Adam's never been one for soppy romantic stuff like this, for describing how he feels in such ways, but she's looking at him so broken, telling him that she thinks she's not enough for him when she so, so is.

"I've been wishing this whole month that you would just come back to me, because I love you so much, I miss you so much. But I don't even care about that now, just please. Please know that you're enough, that you were enough. That I've never loved anyone like I love you. Be with me, don't, I don't care. Just never think that."

Kim's eyes are watery, and Adam wants nothing more to comfort her, to reassure her, to protect her. To make sure she never has to waste another night on him, to make sure she never has to cry over him again.

Her expression has softened, the last of her own anger having left, confusion taking it's place. He can see her hearing his words, listening to them, and that little bit of hope from last night begins to spout again.

"But...you didn't. You didn't want to marry me." Kim says, sounding so confused and lost. Adam doesn't know where she got that idea, but he jumps straight to reassuring her he did.

"Kim, I want to marry you. How can you think I don't, I proposed! You were the one who left me," Adam's heart is beating fast at the thought that she could have had this opinion, that she could've thought that, and he wants to speak loudly, firmly, but he doesn't trust himself to not sound angry—because he's not, just confused—so he forces himself to keep his voice calm, level even though he feels anything but.

"Proposing doesn't mean anything, Adam." Kim scoffs. "Anyone can propose. You've done it three times, how do you figure proposing means anything? You have to want to marry, want to build this life. And you didn't. For godsake, you stood my mom and I up! You choose to do a raid over meeting my mom! You let your dad cancel, and what? You took that to mean it's no longer important?"

"Okay, I admit. Going on that raid, it wasn't the best decision I've made. I shouldn't have. And maybe it says more than just me being a bit of an idiot who thought it would be done by then. Maybe the thought of meeting your mom did terrify me. But that's usual! It doesn't mean I didn't want to marry you. It just means I'm an idiot who's so in love with you I screwed up because I let my fear of screwing up affect me!" Adam's had a lot of time this past month to think about what an idiot he was that day, but Kim thinking that means he didn't want to marry him...Adam can barely understand.

"Adam, it's not just that. That, alone? Yeah, sure, it's nerves. But it's the way we couldn't decide on a place to live, it's the way you couldn't understand why that was so important to me. It's the way you didn't tell me anything. And I get you have your issues with your father, but Adam, I was meant to be your wife! Your family. You're meant to argue against him when he's cancelling something important. For a girlfriend, maybe not. But Adam, we were meant to be building a life together...and how can I trust that you want that when your actions say otherwise?"

"Why didn't you tell me this?" Adam can't help asking. He wants to argue against everything she said, wants to point out his logic behind everything but he can't ignore the thought that he should've been able to do that then, when the moments happened, not now.

Kim opens her mouth, but then shuts it, having no answer.

"All this time, I've had no idea why you left. You just gave me the ring back, no explanation." He continues.

"I did. I told you. I told you I was letting you off the hook, that you didn't need to be obligated to do these things, because you clearly didn't want to be married." Kim protests, and Adam feels his anger, not at her, not really, but the whole situation, rise back up.

"Kim. What aren't you hearing? I did want to marry you. I wanted the 'obligations' because, god, because with you they aren't that! All I've wanted since you left is you, wanted you to come back to me, wanted you to at least explain why you left!" Adam's voice is raising again.

"You could've asked." Kim says simply, before holding up her hand, stopping his protests. "And I don't just mean at work. I mean, you know where I live. You have my number. You could've asked. But you didn't. You just the easy route, just like with our engagement because you say you care, but do you? Do you if you don't care enough to do anything?"

"I was giving you space! Because you so clearly wanted it, because you clearly hate me, that you're fine without me!"

"At work. I don't want to have to think how you broke my heart at work. And maybe I wouldn't if you came around either, but neither of us can know because you didn't. Because I shouldn't have to seek you out, when it was you who caused all this!"

"Please, enlighten me. Tell me how it's all my fault, because I'm completely lost. Okay. I should've came around, I shouldn't have cancelled. But, god damn, Kim, you were the one who left me! You handed me back the ring, you broke my heart, you caused this. You didn't even ask me, let me explain anything. You left me. Do you ever think about how I felt, how I felt coming home to all your stuff gone? Your key on the counter? That broke my heart, so please, tell me how this is apparently all my fucking fault?" Adam explodes, his voice breaking now.

"Because you asked me to marry you when you never actually wanted to!" Kim yells back, an angry tear falling down her face. "You ask me to think about how you feel, but what about me? Things were good, then you asked me to marry you. Adam, I only ever wanted to get engaged once, and it hurt when you didn't want to marry me. When I was just the third fiancée, when you just wanted the things that comes with being engaged and not the married part!"

"You keep saying that. But you're not explaining, and I don't know how I can make myself clearer. Kim; I wanted to marry you. I didn't care about being engaged, just that I got to marry you. I'd have married you down at city hall the very next day if you had wanted. I just wanted to be your husband—and okay, I've been engaged twice before, but you're the only one I've ever wanted, needed, to be the husband of."

Kim scoffs again, rolling her eyes. "Yeah. Sure."

"Seriously?" Adam practically flinches at his own yell, and takes a deep breath. "Okay, please. Just tell me exactly why you don't believe me."

"Adam, c'mon. We both know you wouldn't have married me the next day. You don't want to be married, you should stop being so stubborn and admit that! If you did, you wouldn't drag your feet. You would've met my mom, found us a place. And you most definitely wouldn't have pushed back the wedding!"

It takes Adam a few seconds to understand what Kim is talking about, and once he does, he gets even more confused. "You can't seriously be using that as evidence for this? Not when it was you who suggested it."

"You agreed!" Kim's quick to reply.

"Of course I did! You wanted it! What, was I meant to refuse, to say I wanted to marry you as soon as possible?"

"Yes!" Kim's sudden yell shocks him, at the firmness, the determination of how she says it. Like she truly believes that was the only appropriate answer. "That's exactly what you were meant to say. You weren't meant to agree. And that just showed that you were just in engagements for the hell of it, that you weren't serious!"

"Was you testing me?" Adam can hardly believe it. "Because I hate to tell you this, but that's a fucking flawed test. I love you, I want you to be happy, so if you want to push back the wedding, of course I'd agree. And c'mon, it made sense! We got engaged quickly, postponing for a year makes sense. It wasn't like you asked me to hold off for fifty years, of course I'd see no issue."

Kim, to her credit, shifts uncomfortably at his response.

"I had just found out you were engaged twice before, and you didn't tell me! So, yeah, I gave you the push test. I just wanted to know if you were serious, or if I was just a bronze medal. Sean said that—" Kim begins, but at the mention of Roman, Adam interrupts her.

"Roman told you to do this? Roman? C'mon, Kim! How can you be so blind? Of course he said this, he wants to fuck you for godsake! Just think about this for a second, for all Roman said and all he's done since we broke up and you'll see I'm right."

Adam watches as Kim opens her mouth, no doubt ready to protest. But she stops, and he sees that she's doing what he said to do, that she's thinking about everything. And he sees exactly when the pieces fall into place.

"Oh." She says, her expression falling in realisation. "Oh."

"Yeah. Oh." Adam replies. Her eyes are darting around, a subconscious sign that she's assessing everything. A sad, knowing expression appears on her face and she looks at him, and once more, Adam's heart is torn into shreds. There's such a look of clarity on her face, but also of sadness, of regret, of guilt and it kills him.

"What did you mean, about the bronze medal?" Adam just wants to take her into his arms, but he needs clarification himself, needs all the facts, needs to assess if she'll even let him hold her.

"Um, Sean, he, uh," Kim stumbles through the words, watery eyed. "When I told him about you being engaged before, he, uh, said something about the Olympics, that third place is still an achievement."

Adam's heart drops, and he's caught up in a conflict. Of hurting for Kim, hurting that she could ever put that metaphor to herself, and of anger, of wanting to hurt Roman for ever putting that thought inside his wonderful, incredible girl's head.

"Kim. Kim, look at me." Adam says, moving closer to her. "You are not third place. You're not some sort of prize, it's not a competition—if anything, just because there is no competition. You're just too incredible. And even if it was, why would you think you'd be third place? Did you ever think that maybe Nicole was bronze and you are gold. Because, baby, you are so gold. The day you said yes was the day I knew I had won life, because you were going to be my wife. I even put something like that in my vows!"

Adam couldn't describe the expression that appears on Kim's face even if you paid him to. All he knows is that it makes that hope inside him grow, that maybe he's gotten through to her, that maybe he'll get her in his arms.

"You wrote your vows?" Her voice is so quiet, sounding so lost. He's so close to her now, but he needs to be closer, needs to make her feel safe, secure, happy.

"Well, attempted. You know I'm not good at all that word stuff. So whenever something came into my head, I wrote it down. Even when I was on a stakeout—something Al did tease me about, by the way." Adam can't help how his cheeks redden, feeling suddenly very shy; no doubt another leftover effect from how he was raised.

Kim's mouth twitches up, a smile trying to break through, but it goes just as quickly as it came, her eyes watery again afresh, everything, the whole conversation suddenly coming down on her.

"You wanted to marry me." She finally admits, finally acknowledges. "You wanted to marry me, and I left you. I... I listened to Sean when..." She trails off, her voice breaking, a few tears daring to run down her beautiful face. Adam's heart twists, pulls, aches at her voice, at her expression, at how lost and guilty she sounds, and he's holding out his arms again.

"Come here, darlin'," he invites her in, speaking softly. There's a part of him that expects her to pull back, to flinch away from him, exactly like how she has been, but she doesn't. Instead, she instantly walks into his arms, immediately wrapping her arms around him, immediately burying her head into him, and letting all what she's feeling flood out of her.

Adam secures his arms around her tightly, tucking her safe against him. And for the first time in a month, Adam feels complete. Feels whole, feels as if he can breathe, feels so calm and at peace. His heart still hurts, aches, but not because he's lost her, but because she's been through so much. Because she's been suffering so much, that she's been thinking all of this and that she's gone through it alone, without him.

Adam's long accepted that when it comes to relationships, he's not the best. How could he be, when he never had any good role models growing up? But he knows now, holding her in his arms, that he'll do whatever he can to make sure she never feels like that again. That she never doubts his love for her, that she never thinks she's better without him because of reasons like this, that Sean Roman never gets the chance to fuck with her mind again.

Being a cop is what most thinks his purpose is, but Adam knows it's not. It's being her man, her person; the one who will love and protect her, and be her home. Because Adam loves her, and if there's one thing this month has taught him, it's that he never wants to be apart from her again. And he'll make sure he's the man she needs, the man she thought he was, the man he is, the man that will be what she wants, so that all the Romans in the world, and all her own insecurities, are unable to cause this to happen again, are unable to cause her such mental strife.

Because this month has been awful without her, and it hurts to think of him ever having to go a day without her again, hurts especially now he knows it could've been so preventable, that he didn't have to go this month without her at all. And as long as he lives and breathes, Adam is determined to never let them go without each other again.

Not now, not when she's crying into him, not when she's hugging him like he's the only thing that makes her feel safe. Not now, when he knows with certainty, with no doubt, that she needs him, that he's her world as much as she's his.

---

"Earlier, you said something," Kim says to him, a while later. She's curled up against him, the two of them just being with each other, in each other's arms, listening to the sound of their breathing.

It had been a rough couple of hours leading up to this moment. They had pulled away from each other, away from the hug, and had sat on the sofa, talking everything out. Talking about his fears, the reasons why he cancelled and all the ways he screwed up, and how that by no means reflects how much he loves her, how much he wants to marry her.

Talking about all Roman said to her, about why she choose to listen to anyone who wasn't her fiancé, why she didn't just talk to him. Talking about the mutual ways they screwed up, talking about how everything would be so much easier had they just spoke to each other. Talking about their stubbornness, their misplaced pride, that had they just put that aside, they'd be about to walk down the aisle like Platt is.

Talking about how Kim's all too willing to just let the issues fester, to address it with anyone who's not him, and then using how he doesn't know something is up as evidence to support her own fears, insecurities.

Talking about how he's all too fine to let things be fine when they're fine, all too fine to not make sure to tell her how much he loves their lives, and that when things aren't fine, that he's too proud, too pig-headed to actually do anything about it. To tell her about what he's feeling too.

Talking about how they're too similar not to make sure they communicate loudly and clearly.

It wasn't a pleasant or easy conversation by any means. There's a lot of hurt, a lot of anger, a lot of confusion between them, and it's not just as easy as kissing and making up. There had been parts of the conversation where their respective angers had returned, where they snipped at each other, fighting against what the other was saying. But there was also parts where emotions had run high for either one of them, where the hurt, the pain they felt dominated, and the other's response to that was only love, was holding them, comforting them.

They still have so much to fix, to mend. They've explained and took apart everything that had happened, all their flaws but the future is still so undetermined. It'll be easy to fall back into these patterns, they both recognise that, but they've also both agreed that no matter what, no matter what happens, they're a team. That they'll talk no matter what they feel, and that if they see the other pulling away that they won't let them.

Adam can't help feeling, wishing, that they had done this sooner. That they hadn't had to suffer apart, that she would've come to him, that he would've not just expected it to sort itself out on its own. And he had said this to Kim, feeling frustrated at himself, at her, at the way they were raised. But Kim had comforted him, had sat next to him, in front of him, holding him. Had told him that they both should try not to focus on the what ifs and what should've beens, instead of the fact that they were doing it now, that they were fixing their relationship now.

And Adam had been reminded all over again exactly why he fell in love with her.

At the start of their conversation, she had needed him to be the strong one, to comfort her, as she reeled from the new information she had gotten—no matter if Adam knows it's new, because it's always been there, she just choose to ignore it.

She had felt guilt, regret, shame that she had allowed Roman to mess with her mind, that she had twisted everything so much in her mind, that she had nearly lost him forever just because of that. Kim has always felt things so deeply, and all that, combined with her guilt over going back on everything she told him when things were good, and how she shut him out, had affected her so emotionally, so deep inside.

And Adam was unable to do anything but comfort her, even if he wanted to do anything else.

But his comfort, his assurances, his touches; they had done their work, had reassured her, made his girl become the strong, comforting and confident force she is. And it had released something in Adam, all what he has felt had come out, and he was in need of comfort, assurance, touches.

Kim had given it him in an instant, of course she had. Her heart is so big, so filled with love and care, and now she knows once more how much he loves her, needs her, there was standing in her way of being his person, his girl, his comfort.

And Adam fell in love with her all over again. Reminded of how she's the first person who told him he could need comfort, could ask for comfort, could get it without even asking. Reminded him of how she's the first person he felt comfortable being weak, emotional in front of. The first person who told him it isn't weakness, but part of being human.

And it fixed his aching, gaping heart. Having her in his arms, having her say she wants them to be together again, having her agree to work on things...all that mended his heart, had soothed the pain, the ache, the torture it had been through the past month.

But what truly secured it back in place, what truly made him know he could relax, know that he wouldn't have to feel that all over again, was her comfort. Was the assurance, because it made him remember how she promised she'd never leave him, and made him know that this time, this time she was here to stay, that he would never be without her again.

And that's how they found themselves here, finally. Lying curled up together on his bed, on top of the sheets. In each other's arms, listening to each other's breathing, feeling so at peace, feeling like they're finally, finally, home.

"What's that, darlin'?" Adam looks down at his girl. She's leaning against him, and he can just about see the thoughtful expression on her face, just about see the way she's chewing on her bottom lip.

"Earlier." Kim looks up at him. "When we were fighting. You said something about seeing Roman and I on a date?"

At Kim's words, what he said, and what he had seen last night comes flooding back to Adam. He had forgotten all about it, at seeing her walk into that theatre with Roman, walking in that dress, linked arms with another man. He had forgotten all about what started all this, what had been the starting catalyst for him exploding, for their argument.

Had forgotten all about how Kim invited Roman to go with her, it feeling like a lifetime ago. Adam knows now, with absolute certainty, that she had invited him for the reason he thought this morning. Because he was her partner, her friend. And now, now after their conversation, now he has her back in his arms, he feels embarrassed, shy about how he could ever think differently. Embarrassed about how he was there in the first place.

Adam so desperately wants to forget it. Forget that he ever went there yesterday, that he saw them, that he yelled that at her. Doesn't want to let her know what an idiot he can be when it comes to her, doesn't want her to know just how irrational he got. It feels so ridiculous now, but as much as he knows that, he knows he has to explain, to tell her—they can't build a better relationship if he doesn't.

"I know yesterday was that Shakespeare thing. And I, uh, I thought that you might be alone and I know how much you hate that so I thought I'd, you know, go. Just in case. But I saw you with Roman." Adam admits. Kim pulls away from him slightly, sitting up to look at him more directly. She goes to speak, but Adam continues.

"Yeah, I know it wasn't a date. I know that now, I do. Just with everything, I was being jealous. That's it. I know you just invited him along as a friend."

"If you let me speak," Kim says, shaking her head at him. "Adam, I didn't invite him. I just told him about it, about if I should eat the cost, and he just turned up. I wouldn't...I wouldn't have invited him."

Oh. Adam's mind has been caught up in so much thoughts, of theories, of ideas and assumptions of what was last night, but never did he consider that as a possibility.

Kim looks at him, turning completely so she sat facing him. She's kneeling, one hand lying on her lap, the other on his. There's a look of softness, of love, of affection on her face as she does.

"You came?" She asks, simply, but sounding so disbelieving, so mystified. Adam adjusts himself so one arm loops around her waist, leaning to link his other hand with hers, squeezing it gently, lovingly.

"Of course. I couldn't stand the thought of you being alone." He says, dropping his voice low, soft, to match the sudden thickness of air. "I set a reminder, when we were together. Just to remind me about my suit, but it made me think." Kim swallows, a soft smile on her lips.

"I love you, Adam Ruzek." She says, her voice soft, but ever so firm. So certain, so truthful, so filled with love—love for him.

"That's good, darlin', cos I love you," Adam replies, grinning back to at her. And then Kim is moving, moving towards him, and he loops his arm around her more, pulling her towards him quicker, wanting—no, needing—their lips to be connected sooner, needing to kiss her, to taste her, to become one with her.

---

The next morning, they walk hand in hand into the district, both of them grinning ear to ear. The ring, the ring she gave back to him, the ring he just couldn't get rid of no matter how much it hurt to still have it when he didn't have her, is back on her finger; something that makes Adam's heart feel so full, so mended, so warm, it telling him that things are fixed, things are good.

That she is his, and he is hers, and that nothing will ever change that again. Especially with Roman's days as Kim's partner are numbered, as soon as Platt is back, she has plans to request a new one—something both him and Kim are confident will be honoured, with Platt having such a soft spot for Kim.

And Adam's life, his heart, his soul, has never felt more complete. He's got his girl; his world.