I feel really humbled and really grateful for every form of support I've received in the last week. I hope you enjoy this next chapter.

Jay

"Did you know that Hailey actually delivered the baby?"

"Yeah." Will motions with his head and I follow him to an empty examination room. "She had a D&C, which is typical for second-trimester stillbirths."

"She saw the baby. It was a girl."

Will sighs. "At twenty-two weeks, they would have given her the option because the fetus is nearly formed. Did she tell you that?" When I nod, he adds, "That's good that she's finally opening up about what happened."

I nod again and the mental image of Hailey in a hospital alone holding our baby floods my mind and shatters my heart. I shake my head to get rid of the image. "She was all alone, man. She went through it all alone while I was sloshed."

Will nods sadly and pats me on the shoulder. "I tried to be there for her, but she didn't want to see me. She didn't want to see anyone. She even discharged herself."

I sigh. "Can you blame her? She blamed herself."

Will shakes his head. "Tough thing to go through." After a long pause, he says, "So, you two talking now?"

"Kind of, but not really. I was straight with her and told her I want to be with her. I know she wants to be with me too, but she's got a lot to sort through."

"Give her time. Don't rush her."

"I've been giving her all the time and space. I don't ever want her to feel pressured to do something before she's ready. She's calling the shots and—"

"What if she decides she doesn't want to give it another try?"

"I'm fully prepared to back off."

"You sure?"

"I can't stand the thought of causing her any more pain. I'll even put in my transfer papers if that's what she wants. Hailey deserves the world, and I'll make sure she gets it, with or without me. I feel like I owe her that much."

"Have you thought of asking her out on a date? Sort of like, starting over?"

"She asked for time. I'm giving her time."

"Just ask her on a date, casually, then bring her to a nice restaurant, talk – about anything other than all this depressing shit. She probably wants to just feel normal again. Then maybe—" Will pauses, then looks down at his iPad. "Sorry, man, I gotta go," he says. "But ask her out. She fell for your sorry ass once, maybe it will happen again," he says and rushes out back into the ED.

I walk out of the empty examination room just as Hailey is exiting our victim's room. So many emotions pass across her face it's hard to pinpoint just one. I know Hailey is having trouble keeping a level head. Bad domestic cases will always be her kryptonite.

"Is she going to be okay?" I ask.

"She has a cracked skull, broken left eye socket, her right cheekbone is fractured and her jaw is broken." Taking a deep breath, Hailey steels her nerves. "She also has a broken radius in her right arm and seven broken ribs. The sick fuck pummeled her almost to death."

"But she's alive," I say, in the interest of finding the silver lining. "She pressing charges?"

"Yeah." She nods. "C'mon, he's still out there. We got work to do."

x

For the next couple of days, we work tirelessly to find our suspect, but all our leads eventually go cold. It's like he vanished into thin air. Then the deputy superintendent drops a drug case on Voight's desk and tells the unit to prioritize it instead. Hailey loses it. She fights to keep the manhunt alive, but Voight quickly shoots her down. Later in the day, I find her sitting alone in the breakroom, fidgeting with a loose string on the cuffs of her sweater while nursing her third cup of coffee.

I walk in a pour myself a cup. I take a deep breath and sit down next to her. She turns to me and gives me a tight-lipped smile.

"I know you're worried about me, but I'm fine," she says preemptively. She shrugs, her shoulder barely jutting up. "I just think we should go after him. She'll never have peace until he is in jail, where he belongs."

"We have a country-wide BOLO out for him and his car, his accounts, and credit cards are flagged, and we have patrol posted at every location he is known to frequent," I say. "We'll get him."

She leans back in her chair and runs a hand through her hair. "Not soon enough."

"He is who he is and he'll make a mistake," I add. "And when he does, we'll get him."

She sighs heavily and we sit in a comfortable silence sipping our coffee.

Will's words have been resonating in my head for the last two days. Just ask her on a date. I've been trying, but I just haven't found the right time or the right way yet. Perhaps there is no such thing as the perfect time, so today is as good as any.

Instantly, I get nervous. My palms begin sweating so profusely that I rub them on my pant legs in a futile attempt to dry them. I'm sure Hailey can sense my nervous energy, though I'm trying to project confidence to stay focused. I don't think asking her is what is making me nervous. It's wondering what her response will be, that's making me slightly anxious.

"What's going on with you?" she turns to me and asks. "You've been slightly off the past couple of days."

"How perceptive of you, detective." I smile. "It's just… I kind of wanted to ask you something."

"Oh, alright. What is it?"

I gulp and stare at her. Her blue eyes are shining and her lips twist into a lazy, disarming grin. I feel like I'm twelve again and having a schoolboy crush. "There's this restaurant I've been wanting to try. It's hidden down an alley on the West loop. I've heard very good things about it. And I wanted to know if you want to come with me."

"Like a date? Wait… are you asking me out on a date?"

"Yes," I answer and despite myself, I begin to blush.

A slight smile twitches the corner of her mouth. "You're blushing," she teases.

"I'm not." I quickly try to make up an excuse for my red cheeks that isn't incredibly lame. "I'm just feeling a bit hot."

"Are you now?" she asks, eyebrow raised.

"Yes," I say. "So, what do you say?"

Her eyes search my face, and I pray to God she finds whatever answer she is looking for. After what feels like an eternity she nods and a wide, generous smile spreads across her face.

"Is that a yes?" I ask. "I feel like a need verbal confirmation."

"Yes," she answers softly and my heart leaps with relief.

I nod and all I can do is look at her and smile like an idiot.

"Am I making you nervous?" she probes playfully, her nose crinkling in a way that drives me crazy.

"Yes, a little," I answer honestly.

"I promise I won't bite," she says.

"Oh, that's too bad," I say in mock disappointment, and my mind recalls all the times she has kissed her way down my chest, pausing now and then to nip at my skin, only to soothe the sting of it with her tongue. And that particular little recollection makes me blush even more, and Hailey's radar hones in on me.

She blushes. Of course, she blushes, looking embarrassed and adorable. "I swear, sometimes it feels like I can hear your thoughts…"

I laugh. "How about tonight? It doesn't seem like Voight will keep us here long. I can pick you up around seven. Is that okay?"

"Yeah, that's fine." She nods.

"Alright," I say, already counting down the hours. I can't hide my smile; it is so big it's a wonder my face is not splitting in half.

x

I don't think I was this nervous on my first date with Hailey. Maybe it's because this time around I know exactly what's on the line here – my heart. It's cheesy but true. I've already been to the bathroom twice; these butterflies have never been so bad.

To be honest, I didn't think this day would actually happen. But somehow, here I'm pulling up at her apartment building. My whole body is trembling and it worsens when I see her walking down the front steps. She looks so genuinely beautiful, wearing black pants and a white top with a black leather jacket, and Christ, she's stunning. Her hair is down in loose waves and when her eyes find me, my heart just about stops, then restarts at a ridiculous rate.

I hop out of the truck, my legs carrying me around to open the door for her before I've registered that they're moving. I know I'm staring (ogling, really) because when she draws closer, she asks, "Is there something on my face?"

"No." I shake my head. "You just… You look beautiful."

The sweetest blush tints her cheeks. "Thank you. You look nice, too."

Hailey climbs inside the truck and I walk around to the driver's side, forcing myself to take a few deep breaths, trying to slow my racing heart, calm my mind. The awkwardness between us has dwindled, and while we've settled into a rhythm, the air between us is still charged with the newness of our situation. I linger a moment, telling myself that all is well, really, this is Hailey and all will be well.

It's a Wednesday night and the restaurant isn't packed. There are only a few cars in the parking lot. I get out of the car and go around to open the door for her. I offer my hand to help her out of the cabin, and I decide to keep her hand in mine, twining our fingers together. She doesn't pull away.

As we walk up to the entrance, the host greets us with such a theatrical French flair I catch Hailey twitching her lips, but I give her points for not rolling her eyes at his effusive welcome. He escorts us inside, through a non-functional freight elevator, and into the dining area.

The decorations are low-key and basic, and we can actually see the kitchen in the back. He shows us to our table and soon after the waitress brings us menus and takes our drink order. Hailey is practically bouncing in her seat. It's been a long time since I've seen her this excited and it's doing crazy things to my insides. That and the fact that I'm equally excited and nervous, but I'm trying my hardest not to let it show. Especially the nervous part.

"This is a nice place," she says looking around. "Smells delicious, too."

As we wait for our drinks to arrive, silence falls between us. It's a comfortable one, a quiet, mutual contentment, that needs no conversation or awkward chatter to fill it. The silence is only interrupted when Hailey's stomach growls.

I laugh. "Ready for dinner?"

"I guess so."

"Me too. I can't wait to try their food."

"Everything looks really good," she notes, leafing through the menu. "Don't think I will be able to choose just one."

We perused the menu, and when the waitress returns with our drinks, we ask her for guidance, as to what would be a good choice. We end up choosing the tasting course so that we can try a little bit of everything.

"So, I thought we could play a game," I propose.

"A game?" Her eyebrows shoot up.

Assaying her face, I can see that she is a least mildly intrigued. "Yeah. I thought we could play twenty-one questions, that way we can get to know each other…again. Break the ice."

The smile on her face tells me she's not opposed to the idea. "Alright. What are the rules?"

"Let's keep it simple. We take turns asking each other questions and we are only allowed one skip."

Hailey hums her approval and leans forward, close enough I catch a whiff of her perfume, which is wonderful. A hazy memory stirs. Us in bed, limbs tangled, kissing, tasting, fooling around.

"Okay, I'm game," Hailey says and snaps me off the memory, but it hangs there, shimmering, in the back of my mind.

"You go first," she prompts.

I search my brain for an easy question to start off. "Okay, first question. If you could only have one appliance, what would it be?"

She thinks for a second. "I'm assuming the television is not considered an appliance, so I'd have to go with my Keurig."

"You and your coffee, that hasn't changed, huh?"

"Nope," she says, eyes bright, with a big smile on her face. "If anything, it's gotten worse."

I shake my head. "Okay, your turn."

Hailey considers for a moment, staring intently at me. "What's the worse pick-up line you've ever used on a girl?"

I laugh, shaking my head. "Oh man, I think in high school I asked a girl if I could take her picture so Santa would know what I wanted for Christmas. Will had told the line, and I thought I could use it to get a girl to go to the holiday dance with me."

Her laugh comes quick, breaching the quiet atmosphere in the restaurant, and I swear, it's the best sound ever. "Oh my God. Did you really ask a girl that?"

"Yes."

"Did she say yes?"

I shake my head. "Of course not."

"Tsk tsk tsk." She clicks her tongue. "I can't believe young Jay had no game."

"None whatsoever," I reinforce, and the grin on her face only fuels my mirth. "I was a total loner. Spent most of my time playing video games."

"Really? I didn't know that about you."

"See? You learned something new about me," I say and take a sip of my drink. "Okay, my turn."

"Alright, hit me."

"If you had to change careers, what would you do?" I ask.

"Oh, wow. That's a tough one." She puffs out her cheeks, exhaling all the air slowly. "Maybe a lawyer? Or a teacher?"

I nod, smiling. I can totally see Hailey being both. She's so caring and attentive, amongst other things, which makes her perfect for those positions.

"I can definitely see that," I say. "You would be that hardass teacher that every boy crushed on."

"What? I wouldn't be a hardass."

"Oh, yes you would. Don't forget that I watch you question suspects for a living."

"Yeah, but they are suspects, not students," she scoffs, rolling her eyes at me. But she smiles despite herself. "Alright, my turn, um…" she thinks. "What was the last concert you went to?"

"I went to see Bob Dylan at the Credit Union arena with Will, like a year ago."

"Oh, how was that?"

"Amazing! He performed his whole Highway 61 Revisited album."

"That's actually impre—"

The waitress interrupts, holding a plate in each hand. "Here's the first entrée of our tasting course, our famous Capellini dish." She places the plates in front of us and shaves fresh truffles on top. "Enjoy."

Hailey and I look at each other, then down at our plate noting the impeccable presentation.

"Mmm, this looks amazing," Hailey hums, closing her eyes to savor the aroma.

My stomach grumbles immediately. "I know. Shall we dig in?" I suggest.

"Definitely."

Without preamble, I lift a forkful of the pasta to my mouth and it's like an explosion of taste. The pasta is chewy and slightly sweet, the sauce tastes garlicky and rich and indescribably delightful. At this moment all that exists is the food in my mouth, my ecstatically exploding taste buds, and Hailey.

"This is the best pasta I've ever eaten," Hailey says, smiling around a mouthful.

"Agreed."

We eat in silence for the next few minutes, savoring each bite. The only noise comes from our forks clinking against plates.

After my last bite, I clear my throat. "I think it's my turn to ask a question."

She nods with a mouthful.

"Okay, then. What was the last show you binge-watched?"

She takes her time chewing, swallowing. "Bridgerton," she says.

"Is that the British show Will won't shut up about?"

"Probably, since he actually recommended it to me."

I shake my head. "I will never understand your taste in television. How long did it take you to binge the whole series?"

"It was just one season, and it's none of your business," she says, trying to sound serious, but I can see she's just messing with me because she cannot help but smile.

"How long?" I press.

She lowers her head in a vain attempt to hide the blush warming her cheeks. "A day, maybe two?"

"You have issues," I tell her and she laughs again, a rippling, heart-warming laugh.

The image of her sitting on the couch eating a bag of black and white drizzle popcorn comes to mind. I can't remember how many times she made me sit through an episode of Downton Abbey. Although I wasn't into the show, I've always been into her. So, it evened out.

"Moving on," she says putting her fork down. "What's your favorite thing about Chicago?"

I smile, keeping my eyes locked on hers. I want to tell her that right this minute, she is my favorite thing about Chicago. But since she's probably looking for something more superficial, I figure I should skip that reply for now.

"Clearly the food," I say just as another entrée arrives.

The next hour passes by in a blur as we continue the game, and it's my new favorite thing. The fact that I'm learning so much about her – things I wouldn't think to ask out of the blue – makes me all more eager to spend more time with her outside of work.

As much as I want to think that everything between us is going to be this great going forward – I know that isn't likely going to be the case. There's still a lot to unpack. So, this happy place we find ourselves in is probably temporary. Like a fog that has descended over us, leaving us the illusion of something steady, less uncertain than our regular interactions. Although, I really am beginning to hope for something significantly more than that.

After we eat a few more amazing dishes, it's time for dessert. The waitress serves us this pretentious cake-looking thing adorned with real flowers and shrubberies. I dig in and, of course, it's delicious and decadent and it melts in my mouth. I watch Hailey pop a bite in her mouth. Her eyes roll back and she lets out a little moan of delight.

"Oh my God, this is so good. I haven't had cake this good since New York."

This gets my attention. This is the first bit of information she's shared of her whereabouts in the last five years. It feels bittersweet learning this small detail and it digs at me that there is so much of her life I've missed.

"You were in New York?" I ask, trying to seem nonchalant.

Hailey cocks her head to the side, mouth twisting, her eyes narrowing. "Is the question part of the game?"

I nod. "Yes."

She takes another forkful of the cake, chewing, stalling. "Yeah, I was there. Did a stint with the FBI."

"The FBI?"

"Hey, it's my turn to ask a question."

Raising my hands in mock surrender, I smile. "You're right. Go on."

"Okay…" Hailey stares at me, then the corners of her mouth curve up, I recognize the glint of mischief in her eyes immediately. Oh boy.

"What is the most embarrassing thing someone has caught you doing?"

I put my head in my hands and cringe at the image that pops into focus. "I think I'm going to—"

"Don't you dare skip!"

"I have a skip," I remind her.

"Don't do it."

I shake my head and look away.

"Jay…"

When I look back her eyes glow with anticipation, and I can't find it in me to deny her a damn thing.

"My, um, mom… she…" I can't believe I'm about to tell her this. I feel a disconcerting thump in my throat and my palms get sweaty. "I was an idiot teenager… She walked in on me…." I don't finish the sentence. I can't. I feel my cheeks flame red.

But my admission earns me a laugh, and a snort escapes as she tries to muffle it. When she finally recovers, she says, "You weren't kidding when you said you were a loner," she quips, trying desperately to swallow her amusement.

I groan and cover my flaming face, hoping my hands will somehow shield me from her teasing gaze.

"Oh c'mon," she says, and I feel her fingers tug at my sleeve. "That's not so bad, and definitely not atypical for a teenage boy to be caught doing that by their parents."

I peek at her through my fingers. "It was humiliating. Imagine your mom catching you…" Again, I'm a grown man, why can't I say the word? Masturbating.

"That would be pretty embarrassing," she agrees, her nose crinkling as she smiles. "I appreciate you answering the question, though."

"Didn't think I had a choice," I deadpan.

She laughs. "I'm having fun."

"I'm glad one of us is."

I cast a teasing look at her and she chuckles, playfully nudging my shoulder. She looks at me for a moment, her eyes turning a soft shade of blue. We gaze at each other for the longest time; the room seems to charge with something electric. I feel its buzzing through my veins, heating my blood.

"The game was a good idea," she says.

"I'm full of ideas," I reply. "A few of them are bound to be good."

She laughs and it's music to my ears. Then out of the blue, she says, "Do you have any idea how incredible you are?"

I'm struck dumb by her words. She looks so genuine, with a smile so sweet, so loving, that for a moment I'm stunned it is directed solely at me. Now my cheeks are flushing for a completely different reason.

I shake my head. "No, but feel free to inflate my ego."

She beams at me, and I think there's a witty come back at the tip of her tongue, but she says, "You're an incredible guy, Jay."

A familiar warmth fills my heart. I lean forward to reach across the table to her hand, intertwining my fingers with hers. Her eyes are the color of summer skies, bright and blue, and I feel a strong desire to keep them that way. Always.

"Well, you are pretty incredible too."

x

We walk out of the restaurant and I feel like I'm on cloud nine, like I'm in some sort of dream. I don't even know why I was so nervous. I keep forgetting how easy it is with her – so natural, so absolutely effortless. We still spark off each other, just as we did the first time we met. And it is as easy not to talk as it is to talk. I can ride in cars or sit in restaurants, or watch the sunset with her in happy silence.

On the drive back to her apartment both of our cellphones ring – simultaneously, which can only mean one thing.

"Sarge has a location on the suspect. We got a hit on his car. He wants us to roll on it."

"Okay," I nod. I had been thinking of ways to make this night last as long as possible and this will do the trick. "Tell him we're on our way."

We drive to the location and his car is parked near an abandoned building, with broken windows and dilapidated walls. Hailey and I vest up and hold an anchor, waiting for the rest of the team to arrive.

While we wait, I say, "I think it's my turn to ask a question."

"Okay," she says, pulling her hair into a ponytail. "Go on."

"The FBI."

"That's not a question."

"The FBI?" I say, adding an exaggerated inflection to the last vowel.

She chuckles, setting back on the seat. "I worked with them for a few weeks as part of an interagency training program. It was a lot like working in Intelligence, except with fancy gadgets, endless resources, and no red tape."

I nod. There's so much I want to ask her about it, but I settle for, "Badass."

She chuckles, rolling her eyes. "It was good. Learned a lot. But I don't think I could be a Fed."

"Is it because you'd have to wear a pantsuit?" I ask.

She laughs. "The dress code was definitely one of the reasons."

The team arrives and Hailey and I hop out of the car. Voight gives us quick instructions and we get into formation, to breach the building. Once inside, we separate to clear the space, and Hailey and I head down a hallway and I fall into step beside her, as we begin to clear the area.

"Clear," she says, moving past me quickly and off to my right.

I go in through the next door, checking the entry way , then clearing the room. "Clear."

Hailey enters the next room and I hold my position. But then I think I see movement ahead. I fix my eyes on the darkness ahead and raise a closed fist when I see Hailey in my periphery. I definitely saw something. I take a step forward and suddenly, gunshots erupt and the hallway flares up with action. I return fire, but feel a terrible blow to my chest that distorts my eyesight – all the shapes blur into one, and ooze from black to white. It's hard to catch my breath and before I know what's happening, the ground is rising up to meet me.

Then there's a burning pain in my leg.

When I manage to open my eyes again, I see Hailey hovering over me, her eyes wide and a shade darker, her forehead creased with …is that worry? She's frowning. From what seems like a long distance away, I hear her voice screaming my name. I feel like I'm fighting for air. My thoughts drift and it's hard to keep my eyes open. Slowly all the noises disappear and everything fades to a perfect shade of Hailey's blue irises before going black.

Cliff hanger, I know. But next week we'll get to see Hailey realize how deep her feelings are for Jay.