After she'd returned to Boston, Jane tried her hardest to pretend like she had never left. She got her job back at BPD almost immediately, falling back into the work even better and sharper before. She used her substantial earnings from the past year to buy the Rizzoli home and save it from foreclosure, and moved into the house with her mother. They were both grieving for their lost relationships, so they made perfect companions for recovery. Jane didn't tell Angela about Maura, and if Angela noticed her frequent melancholy, she must have just assumed that Jane was taking the divorce particularly hard. She was, of course, heartbroken and missing Maura everyday. She thought about her at odd moments, about something random that she had said, or something that had made her smile. While these memories, bittersweet, were all she had left, Jane had to admit that she finally understood the thing people say about it being better to have loved and lost. It was easy for her to see now, how much better she was for having loved Maura, and for having been loved by her. Something had been awakened inside her when they were together, something beautiful, that stayed with Jane even now that they were apart. She was a calmer, more confident woman, and she no longer felt that sickening anger bubbling below the surface all the time. And while she still felt that she'd made the right decision in leaving, she continued to dream of Maura every night.

Jane made it a point not to keep tabs on Maura. She knew now that a lot of the stories in the magazines were half-truths at best anyway. She just hoped that wherever she was, whatever she was doing, that Maura was happy, and fulfilled, and maybe even loved.

But Maura wasn't happy. She was disappointed in herself for not seeing this coming, and she was devastated at the loss of her lover and best friend. She'd never really had a best friend before, until Jane came along. She'd never really fallen in love like that either, not with anyone, not even close. And she had even let herself entertain the idea of someday, maybe becoming a sort-of member of the Rizzoli family, to feel something like family again, but that dream was dead now too. She had lost so much all at once, it was hard for even a genius to even comprehend.

So she threw herself into work, picking up parts in small independent films, seeking out meatier, more complex characters that she could really lose herself in. She finished her six-month contract with Wylie and they amicably agreed to go their separate ways, though they'd still send a text message every once in a while, just to see how the other was doing. He was the closest thing Maura had to a friend that wasn't on her payroll.

Maura's only other consolation was shopping. Sometimes she'd drag Dave along with her, offering to pay him double for his time, just so she didn't have to go alone. She tried not to think about how pathetic that seemed.

"You still miss her, don't you?" Dave asked sadly, already knowing the answer. He was helping her into a yellow strapless designer dress, an attempt to brighten her up a bit, but the darkness in her features told a silent truth.

Maura just sighed. It was obvious.

"It's been over six months," Dave reminded her. "I think maybe it's time to start moving on, honey."

"I don't want to move on," she told him sincerely.

"You can't mourn her forever, Maura. And darling, you're way too gorgeous to be alone!"

She looked in his eyes, kind and full of concern, and made an awful attempt at a smile. "I'm used to being alone," she replied.

"Is that what you want? To be alone?" he asked.

"It doesn't matter what I want."

He threw his hands up in the air dramatically and put some pep in his words. "Oh, this conversation is going nowhere! And you, skinny thing, you need a steak! And some drinks! And we are going dancing! Yes, that is exactly what you need!"

Maura looked in the mirror and frowned. "What about the dress?"

"Get the blue one. The rest don't do you justice."

That night she made a lame excuse to leave the club early, ignoring Dave's vehement protests, and drove out to the beach. The sound of the waves crashing along the shoreline brought her an immediate sense of calm, and the salty air seemed to open up her lungs so she could breathe. Removing her heels, she walked barefoot through the sand until she found a nice, secluded spot and lied down. She folded her hands beneath her head and stared up into the night sky, listening to the sea, counting the stars, and searching for her Perseus to come rescue her.

"And another one bites the dust," Angela said, seeing her daughter's expression as she plopped down on the couch next to her. "What was it about this one?"

"It's not him," Jane sighed. "It's not any of them, Ma. It's me." She looked down at her lap, emotionally exhausted.

"What do you mean, Jane? You're a catch! You're beautiful, smart, a decent cook-"

Jane waved her hand to stop her mother's compliments. "No, I don't mean it like that. I'm just not interested in any of them."

"Well maybe if you actually gave them a chance..."

"I don't want to Ma, that's the problem! I don't want to give any of them a chance. I only want one person and..." she let her words trail off with her thoughts.

"And what, Jane?" Angela was hanging on that 'one person' thing.

Jane sighed again. She had grown a lot closer to her mother over the course of the past year. They had both been through a lot in that time, and had come to be each other's support system, but she had never told her mother about the extent of her relationship with Maura. Maybe now was the time. "Can I tell you something, and you promise, I mean promise, not to tell another soul?"

"Of course, Jane."

"I mean it, Ma. You have to promise not to tell anyone."

Angela was about to squirm out of her skin with anticipation. She would have promised Jane the Hope Diamond if it meant her spilling this secret. "I promise!"

"I loved her." She smiled a tiny bit when she said it, her eyes losing focus as she started to get lost in the memories that quickly.

"Loved who, Jane?"

It had been so long since she'd said her name out loud. "Maura."

"Maura? Maura Isles?"

"Do we know another Maura?"

"Well no, it's just that... I don't know." She paused a moment. "When you say loved..."

"We were in love," Jane clarified, leaving no room for misinterpretation or doubt. "Like really, honest-to-goodness, in love."

"Jane, are you trying to tell me that you're a... lesbian?"

"I don't know if I'm a lesbian, Ma. I don't want to be with women. But I don't want to be with men, either. I just want to be with Maura. But I can't, so..." she looked away helplessly.

"Well why can't you? What happened between you and her?"

"I don't know. It was all just so much so fast. I mean, everything was perfect, and then it wasn't. And I couldn't get in the way..." She shook her head, the thoughts racing too fast to grab hold of them. "I'm not making any sense."

"No, you're not," Angela said with a small chuckle. "But love doesn't always make sense, honey." She put a supportive hand on her daughter's knee.

Jane smiled at her mother's understanding. She was grateful to be able to share this with her openly. "Los Angeles and 'the industry' as they call it, and all their stupid rules and stupid games, the paparazzi, the press... it was all just too much, I think. And Maura was dating that coyote guy-"

"I was wondering when you were going to get to that part-"

"Well they weren't really dating. It was a publicity stunt or something, whatever, I don't know. See, I don't get that stuff. And I don't get the fancy parties and the designer clothes and all of that. It's not me. It's not where I belong. And Maura," she sighed. "It's everything to Maura, it's all she knows. She was going to lose everything because of me, and I just- I couldn't do that to her."

"But what about Maura? Did you talk to her about all this?"

"No, she would have fought me on it. She would have convinced me to stay, things would have gone badly, and then it would have been all my fault."

"Well don't you think she should have gotten a say in all this? I mean, it's her life too, ya know."

"I know. But she's moved on by now, I'm sure. And she's much better off."

"Do you still love her?"

"Of course I still love her. I'm pretty sure I always will. I am still very much in love with her, even after all this time. I think about her everyday. I miss her everyday. I dream about her all the time... And now that I'm saying all of this out loud, it sounds like it might be really... unhealthy." She made a face.

"You and your jokes. You use them to get you out of uncomfortable situations, you know that, right?"

"What are you saying, Dr. Phil?"

"I'm saying you should call her. I've never heard you talk like this about anybody and you don't let something that special get away, Jane. You'll regret it your whole life if you do."

"I can't do that to her, Ma. That wouldn't be fair. I could ruin everything for her. She's better off without me, and I'm... learning to be okay with that." Jane shrugged. "Well, I'm trying at least."

Angela looked at her daughter with a mix of sadness and pride. "You've grown into an amazing woman, Jane Rizzoli."

Jane eyed her curiously. "Was that a compliment for me, or for yourself?"

"I can take some of the credit," Angela said, "but not all. You came back to Boston a more mature, more loving person. Even though you still keep your distance in a lot of ways, you've really opened up Jane, and that had nothing to do with me. That was all you."

Jane smiled sadly. "With a little help. But thanks Ma, that means a lot."

The next morning, when Jane came out of the shower, towels wrapped around her hair and body, she found her mother holding her phone.

"What are you doing?"

Angela quickly put the phone down on the kitchen counter and looked at Jane, then back at the phone. "Oh, uh, that's not my phone! Duh! Jane, have you seen my phone?"

Jane eyed her with heavy suspicion. "Yeah, it's right there on the counter. About two feet away from mine. With the bright pink case... which looks nothing like mine."

"Are you implying that I'm getting too old to see, Jane?" Angela asked, expertly avoiding.

"I am not-" Jane stopped and shook her head. "You're too good at this game and I'm running late. Just give me my phone, please."

Angela handed the phone to Jane, who immediately scrolled through the call log and text messages. She found nothing suspicious. If her mother had done anything unsavory, she had been smart enough to delete the evidence. With one final glare at her mother, Jane turned and headed to her room to finish getting ready for work.

It was early when Maura's phone alerted her to a text message. She was awake, but still lying in bed, staring at the ceiling and trying to remember the quickly fading details of the dream from which she'd just awoken. It was so real she could almost smell the unique scent of Jane's skin. She sighed and rolled over, picking up her phone and unlocking the screen with her finger. Her heart nearly exploded when she saw Jane's number. She opened the message.

This is Jane's mother Angela. Jane is in the shower so I have 2 b quick. She told me everything. She misses u.

Maura's jaw dropped. She didn't know how to respond, or if she should respond, or if not responding would be rude? She sat up and swallowed her fear. This could be the chance she'd been hoping for, and she sure as hell wasn't going to pass it up. She typed quickly.

I miss her too. So much! How is she?

Honest and open was the only chance she had to repair what had been broken.

She doesn't want 2 hurt u. Or ur career. But u should O NO shower quit g2g

"What?" Maura studied the text for a moment before googling g2g and realizing that Angela had to go, apparently quickly, probably because she was in danger of getting caught using Jane's phone. Which meant that Jane didn't know Angela had sent the messages. The unfinished conversation raised a lot of questions. What exactly had Jane told her mom? Did she say she missed her, or was that an inference on Angela's part? Jane had previously told Maura that Angela was a meddler.

At this point, Maura realized she didn't care anymore. With just the tiniest sliver of a chance that Jane might possibly even consider giving what they had a second chance, she had to do something. And it had to be big.