The next morning, the sun filters in through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the bedroom. Hailey stirs, her eyes flickering open to find herself still tangled up in Jay's embrace. She shifts, her body sore and satisfied from the previous night's activities.

She glances at the clock on the nightstand, seeing that it's still relatively early. Deciding to let Jay sleep a bit longer, she carefully extracts herself from his arms and gets out of bed.

As she stands, she glances down at herself, noticing the telltale signs of Jay's presence on her body - hickeys on the sensitive skin of her neck, beard burn along her collarbone, and finger-shaped bruises on her hips. She can't help but smile, feeling a sense of satisfaction at the undeniable proof of his desire for her.

She pulls on a pair of sweatpants and a loose t-shirt, before quietly exiting the bedroom.

She pads silently to the kitchen, her bare feet making no sound on the hardwood floors. She makes a cup of coffee, her mind still on the events of the previous night. As she waits for the coffee to brew, she leans against the counter, sipping the hot liquid, her thoughts drifting to Jay.

After a few minutes, she hears the sound of footsteps approaching, and then Jay appears in the doorway, still in his boxer briefs, his hair messy from sleep. His eyes find hers, a lazy smile spreading across his face.

"Morning," he drawls, his voice still rough from sleep. "You're up early."

"Couldn't sleep," she replies, her gaze flickering over his bare chest. "And someone wore me out last night."

His smile widens at her words, his eyes roving appreciatively over her still-sleepy form. "You're welcome," he says, his voice thick with satisfaction. "You look good in my clothes, by the way."

"Yeah, well, you left me no choice," she teases, gesturing to the fading love bites on her neck. "Had to cover up the evidence."

Just then, the sound of footsteps on the stairs breaks the moment, and Mackenzie appears in the kitchen, her hair a tousled mess. She takes in the sight of Hailey and Jay, a frown on her face.

"Ugh, you guys are gross," she groans. "Can't you keep your hands off each other for five minutes?"

"Good morning to you too, kiddo," Jay replies, ruffling her hair as she passes. "And for your information, we're adults. We can touch each other whenever we want."

"I know you're adults," Mackenzie groans, pouring herself a bowl of cereal. "I just don't want to see it."

Hailey laughs at their exchange, leaning back against the counter. "I don't blame her. We can get pretty handsy."

"Hey, we're just expressing our love for each other," Jay argues, his arm snaking around Hailey's waist and pulling her closer. "Nothing wrong with that."

Mackenzie huffs, rolling her eyes as her parents get even closer. She spoons a bite of cereal into her mouth before speaking. "So, when are we going on our summer vacation? You said you'd book it soon."

Hailey and Jay exchange a glance. They had mentioned a family vacation, but with their busy schedules, they hadn't gotten around to planning it yet.

"Actually, we were thinking of going sometime next month," Hailey answers, her tone casual. "We'll start looking at places to go soon."

Mackenzie's expression brightens slightly, her irritation towards their public displays of affection momentarily forgotten. "Any idea where we're going?"

Jay shrugs, leaning back against the counter. "We were thinking maybe somewhere tropical. You know, with a beach, crystal clear water..."

He glances over at Hailey, a playful smirk on his face. "But we're open to suggestions. Any place you've been wanting to go, kiddo?"

"I've always wanted to go to Hawaii," Mackenzie says, perking up at the mention of beaches and clear water. "Or Fiji. Or Bora Bora."

"Whoa, someone's got expensive tastes," Jay teases, raising an eyebrow. "Fiji might be a bit out of our budget."

"What, you're too cheap to take us somewhere nice?" Mackenzie teases back, a cheeky grin on her face.

Jay laughs, shaking his head. "Hey, I said we'd go somewhere nice, not that we'd bankrupt ourselves."

"Yeah, yeah, we'll figure it out," Hailey interjects, trying to keep the peace between her husband and daughter. "We'll make sure it's a place everyone will enjoy."

"Including me," Mackenzie adds, her eyes narrowing slightly. "I don't want to spend all summer listening to you guys making out."

Jay laughs, not bothering to deny the accusation. "No promises, kid."

Mackenzie groans again, burying her face in her bowl of cereal. "Gross, you guys are the worst."

Hailey laughs, patting her on the head affectionately. "You'll survive, I'm sure."

Hailey takes a sip of her coffee before setting the mug down on the counter. "Hey, remember you've got your therapy appointment this morning?"

Jay lets out a groan, his face screwing up in reluctance. "Ugh, do I have to?"

"Yes, you do," she says firmly, her tone brooking no argument. "You've been avoiding going for weeks now. Today is the day."

Jay rolls his eyes, his mood quickly shifting. "I don't need therapy. I'm fine."

"You're not fine," Hailey counters, her voice gentle. "You've been edgy and irritable lately. And I know you've been having nightmares again."

Jay rubs a hand over his face, his annoyance evident. "I can handle my own nightmares."

"That's not the point, Jay," Hailey responds, maintaining her calm but firm tone. "Your nightmares are getting worse, and you're not sleeping well. You need to talk to someone; you need to address these things head-on before they spiral out of control."

"I don't want to talk about it," he replies stubbornly, his jaw clenching. "Besides, what good is talking to some shrink going to do? They can't fix what's broken in me."

"They can help you manage it," Hailey argues, her voice steady. "They can give you tools to cope with your PTSD and your nightmares."

"I don't need tools," he snaps, his frustration boiling over. "I've been dealing with this crap for years, I can handle it. I don't need some stranger telling me how to feel."

"You're being ridiculous," Hailey sighs, her patience starting to wear thin. "You can't just keep bottling everything up and pretending like you're okay. You're not okay, Jay, and you haven't been for a long time."

"And whose fault is that, huh?" he mutters bitterly, crossing his arms.

Hailey's eyes narrow at his words. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," he replies, his tone sharp. "I'm like this because of what happened, because of what I did. And I don't need some therapist trying to dig into my past and unravel all the crap I've buried deep down."

"That's exactly what you need," Hailey counters, her patience gone. "You can't just keep ignoring it and pretending it doesn't exist. It's eating you up inside, and it's affecting everyone around you. Me, Mackenzie, your team..."

"So it's all my fault, then?" he retorts, his defense mechanism kicking in. "Everything bad that happens is because of me?"

Hailey scoffs, the frustration evident on her face. "That's not what I said, and you know it."

"Isn't it, though?" he presses on, his anger building. "You're always on me about going to therapy, about taking care of myself. You never let me forget that I'm a mess."

"Because someone has to be the voice of reason here," she replies, her voice rising slightly. "Someone has to care enough to call you out on your bullshit and try to help you. I guess that's what I get for loving someone who's constantly trying to sabotage themselves."

"Yeah, well, maybe you should've thought of that before you got involved with me," Jay snaps, the hurt evident in his words. "I warned you from the beginning that I was messed up. I warned you that I couldn't give you the happily ever after you deserve."

"And I didn't care," she responds, her words firm. "Because I wanted you, despite all your flaws and self-sabotaging tendencies. And I still want you, even when you're being a goddamn pain in the ass."

"Why?" he asks, his voice ragged. "Why do you still want me after all the times I let you down, after all the times I hurt you?"

"Because I love you," she replies, her voice soft but firm. "Even when you make me want to scream and punch something, I still love you. That's not going to change, no matter how hard you push me away."

Jay falls silent at her words, her unwavering love and devotion cutting through his anger. He rubs a hand over his face, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "I don't deserve you, you know that?"

"And I didn't care," she responds, her words firm. "Because I wanted you, despite all your flaws and self-sabotaging tendencies. And I still want you, even when you're being a goddamn pain in the ass."

"Why?" he asks, his voice ragged. "Why do you still want me after all the times I let you down, after all the times I hurt you?"

"Because I love you," she replies, her voice soft but firm. "Even when you make me want to scream and punch something, I still love you. That's not going to change, no matter how hard you push me away."

Jay falls silent at her words, her unwavering love and devotion cutting through his anger. He rubs a hand over his face, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "I don't deserve you, you know that?"

"Maybe you don't," she says, her tone gentle. "But you have me, whether you want me or not. You're stuck with me, so you might as well get used to it."

Mackenzie, who had been silently watching their argument from the sidelines, pipes in, her voice laced with sarcasm. "Wow, this is like watching a soap opera. Can you two be any more dramatic?"

Hailey rolls her eyes at her daughter's comment, but there's a hint of a smile on her lips. "You have no room to talk, smart mouth. You're worse than we are when it comes to drama."

Mackenzie just shrugs, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. "Hey, I learned from the best, right?"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Hailey grumbles good-naturedly, her mood lightening slightly.

Jay huffs out a laugh, some of the tension easing from his body. "You're such a little smartass, just like your mom."

Mackenzie grins wider, enjoying the banter. "At least I'm not in denial about needing therapy."

Jay scowls at her comment, while Hailey bites back a laugh.

"Kid's got a point, Halstead," Hailey teases. "Maybe you should listen to her."

Jay glares at both of them, but there's no real malice behind it. "I hate both of you."

Hailey, Jay, and Mackenzie sit on the waiting room couches, a silence hanging over them. Hailey glances at her watch, tapping her foot nervously. She can tell that Jay is anxious, his jaw clenched and his eyes darting around the room.

Mackenzie, sensing the tension, tries to lighten the mood. "Gee, this place is like a funeral home. Can't they put up some cheerful pictures or something?"

A small smile tugs at Hailey's lips at her daughter's comment. "I think they're going for 'calming and neutral,' not 'happy and cheerful'," she reasons.

"More like 'depressing and lifeless,'" Mackenzie mutters, drumming her fingers on the armrest.

Jay lets out a weary sigh, his knee bouncing anxiously. "This is such a waste of time."

"Don't start," Hailey warns, shooting him a pointed look. "You promised you'd give it a chance, remember?"

"I know, I know," he mutters, running a hand through his hair. "I just don't see how talking to some stranger is going to fix my problems."

Just then, a door opens and a middle-aged woman with a warm smile emerges from an office. "Jay Halstead?" she calls out, glancing around the room.

Hailey turns to Jay, putting a supportive hand on his shoulder. "That's your cue, tough guy."

Jay stands up, his expression one of reluctant resignation. "Fine, let's get this over with."

As he heads towards the office, Mackenzie turns to Hailey, her eyes still on the depressing walls. "Seriously, can they put up, like, a sunset or a field of flowers or something?"

Hailey laughs at her daughter's disdain for the lack of color in the office. "I think that would probably conflict with the whole 'calming and neutral' vibe they've got going on here."

"It's more like 'calm and depressing,'" Mackenzie mutters, wrinkling her nose. "Ugh, this place gives me the creeps."

Inside the office, Jay slumps down in a leather chair opposite the therapist, his body tense. The therapist smiles warmly. "So, Jay, why don't we start by talking a bit about your background?"

Jay grits his teeth, his mind already reeling with memories he'd rather not discuss.

"Alright, let's talk about your family," Dr Goodman prompts, sensing his reluctance. "Can you start by telling me a bit about your parents?"

Jay takes a deep breath, his voice tight as he recalls his painful childhood memories. "My dad wasn't really around much growing up. He was an alcoholic. When he was home, he was usually yelling at my mom or me."

Dr Goodman nods, her expression neutral but empathetic. "And your mother?" she asks gently. "What was she like?"

Jay swallows the lump in his throat, his voice taking on a harsh edge. "She tried her best. But she was always working, always worrying about paying the bills. She never had time for me. And when she did, she was so stressed and exhausted that she could barely function."

"So you felt like you were left on your own a lot as a kid?" Dr Goodman asks, her voice soft. "Like you didn't really have anyone to count on?"

Jay nods tersely, the familiar ache of abandonment tightening his chest. "Yeah, pretty much. I learned early on that I couldn't rely on anyone but myself. That I had to take care of myself because no one else was going to do it for me."

That must have been tough," Dr Goodman comments, her expression empathetic. "It sounds like you had to grow up fast and become self-sufficient at a young age. That kind of experience can leave a lasting impact."

Jay shifts uncomfortably in his seat, the painful memories rising to the surface. "You could say that. It definitely shaped who I am today. But I don't see how talking about it is supposed to help."

Dr Goodman nods, understanding his skepticism. "Sometimes, talking about our experiences and the emotions associated with them can help us process them in a healthy way. It can help us understand ourselves better and find ways to cope with any lingering traumas."

Jay huffs, not convinced. "And what about the nightmares? Talking about my past ain't going to make those go away, is it?"

Dr Goodman shakes her head, her tone firm yet compassionate. "No, it won't make the nightmares go away completely. But it can help you understand why you're having them and give you tools to manage them better. Therapy is not a magic wand, but it can be an effective tool for understanding and coping with trauma and its effects on our lives."

Jay lets out a deep sigh, his shoulders slumping in resignation. "Fine. I'll give it a shot. But I'm telling you right now, I'm not spilling my guts and baring my soul. I'm not the talk-about-my-feelings type."

Dr Goodman gives a small smile, undeterred by his gruff exterior. "That's completely up to you. We'll go at your pace. But I do have to ask, Jay, you've been having trouble sleeping, right?"

Jay grumbles, his irritation flaring back up. "Yeah, nightmares keep waking me up. Haven't slept through the night in weeks."

"And the nightmares," Dr Goodman begins, choosing her words carefully. "Are they about your past? About things that happened when you were a child?"

Jay nods tersely, his jaw clenching as the memories surge forward. "Yeah, they're about those times. About my parents. About the stuff I had to see and deal with."

Dr Goodman hands Jay a printout with a list of exercises and techniques for dealing with insomnia, panic attacks, and emotional breakdowns.

"These are some exercises I'd like you to practice," she says gently. "They're meant to help you manage your sleep, your anxiety, and your emotional reactions. It's important that you try them and see if they help."

Jay scans the list, his confusion evident on his face. "Meditation? Deep breathing? Seriously? I'm a cop, not a yogi."

Dr Goodman smiles slightly, accustomed to this response. "These exercises aren't about becoming an expert meditator or turning into a walking yoga studio. They're practical techniques that have been proven to help manage stress, anxiety, and insomnia. Many first responders use them as part of their wellness routines to deal with the stresses of the job."

Jay grumbles, reluctantly acknowledging her point. "Alright, fine. I'll give 'em a shot. But I'm not making any promises."

Jay exits the therapist's office, his shoulders slumped with reluctant resignation. He leans against the wall outside, the printout of exercises still clutched in his hand. The therapy session has left him unsettled, his mind churning with thoughts and emotions he'd rather ignore.

Hailey and Mackenzie, who have been waiting for him, approach as soon as they see him emerge.

"How'd it go in there?" Hailey asks, her eyes searching his face.

Jay shrugs, his voice weary. "Just peachy. Talked about my shitty childhood again and got handed some yoga bullshit to manage my nightmares."

Mackenzie snorts softly, her lips quirked in a small smile. "At least it wasn't just me who thought the place looked like a funeral home."

Jay rolls his eyes but can't help a small smile. "Yeah, you're not wrong. I've seen livelier places on crime scenes."

Hailey laughs softly, her hand reaching out to touch his arm. "Seriously, how are you feeling? That seemed intense in there."

Jay hesitates, his gaze dropping to the ground. "I dunno. It was...uncomfortable. Talking about my past, I mean. And those damn exercises they gave me? Feels like a bunch of touchy-feely bullshit."

"It might feel that way right now," Hailey reasons gently. "But if it could help you deal with your nightmares, isn't it worth a shot?"

Jay lets out a weary sigh, his shoulders sagging. "I guess. I just hate feeling like I can't figure this out on my own, you know? I'm a cop, I'm supposed to be tough and able to handle anything. Instead, I'm here trying to do yoga and meditate my way out of my problems."

Hailey squeezes his arm reassuringly. "Being strong doesn't mean you can't ask for help. And dealing with nightmares and PTSD isn't about toughness, it's about managing the way they affect your life. And if that means trying some new techniques, then so be it."

As Hailey drives, Jay is fast asleep, his head resting on her lap. Mackenzie glances at her father, a hint of worry in her eyes.

"Is he okay like this?" she asks, her voice quiet.

Hailey's hand gently brushes through Jay's hair, her expression soft. "He's just exhausted, kiddo. This therapy session took a lot out of him."

Mackenzie studies her father's sleeping face, concern etched on her features. "You sure? He looks...fragile."

Hailey chuckles softly, her eyes still on Jay. "He'd kill me if he heard you call him fragile. Trust me, this is just a side of him that doesn't get seen often. But he's alright, I promise."

Mackenzie relaxes a little, reassured by Hailey's words. "Okay. Just making sure. He always seems so...tough, I guess."

Jay slowly stirs, his eyes fluttering open. He sits up sleepily, leaning against the window of the truck with a yawn. His eyes are half-lidded and droopy from exhaustion, his expression still groggy.

Mornin' sleepyhead," Hailey teases lightly, her hand reaching out to smooth his hair back. "You were out like a light."

Jay grumbles sleepily, rubbing a hand over his face. "How long was I out?" He glances out of the window, trying to get his bearings.

"About an hour," Hailey informs him, her tone fond. "You were dead to the world."

Hailey takes her hand off the wheel and uses it to gently reposition Jay, guiding his head to rest on her lap once more. Her fingers idly play with his hair as she continues to drive, her other hand on the wheel.

Jay lets out a weary sigh, his body melting into the comfortable position. "You really wanna put me back to sleep, huh?" he mumbles, his It's either that or you keep drooling on the window,"

Hailey teases, her tone light and playful. Her hand continues to stroke his hair absentmindedly, the gesture soothing and familiar.

"Wouldn't be the first time," Jay mumbles sleepily, the memory of past car rides where he had indeed dozed off and drooled on the window causing a faint smile to tug at the corners of his lips.

As they arrive back at the house, Mackenzie gets out of the truck and grabs a few of the grocery bags from the backseat. Jay climbs out of the passenger seat, still looking a bit groggy from his earlier nap. He stretches his limbs and rubs his eyes, trying to shake off the lingering drowsiness.

Mackenzie glances at her dad and snickers. "Looks like your nap did more harm than good. You look like a zombie."

Jay glares at his daughter, his gaze unfocused and tired. "Oh, ha ha, very funny." He runs a hand through his disheveled hair, yawning widely.

"You should go lie down," Hailey suggests gently, coming up beside him. "You look like you're about to keel over."

Jay nods wearily, rubbing a hand over his face. "Yeah, maybe that's a good idea. I feel like I could sleep for a week."

Hailey chuckles softly. "Let's get you inside and horizontal before you faceplant into the nearest soft surface."

The family heads inside, the sound of footsteps and the rustling of grocery bags filling the air. Jay's steps are heavy and sluggish, as he yawns loudly, clearly exhausted.

"Okay, sleepyhead," Hailey teases, noticing his sluggish movements. "Straight to bed, you've clearly overdone it today."

Jay groans, rubbing a hand over his face again. "Don't remind me. I feel like I've run a marathon."

"You mean napped for an hour in the car?" Mackenzie quips, her tone light. "Real tough workout there, Dad."

Jay shoots her a half-hearted glare through heavy lidded eyes. "Very funny, Squirt. I'd like to see you manage a therapy session and not be exhausted afterwards, huh?"

Mackenzie laughs softly, clearly enjoying teasing her dad. "Hey, I'm just saying. You looked pretty cozy on Mom's lap."

"Oh, give me a break," Jay mutters, his tone defensive but lacking true annoyance. "I was asleep, I had no idea where I was laying. And besides, your mom's lap is pretty dang comfortable."

Hailey smirks at her husband's weary banter. "Careful there, you keep calling my lap the comfiest pillow, I might start making it a permanent place for you to sleep."

Jay fakes a dramatic gasp. "Oh the horror! My wife using her lap as a pillow, whatever shall I do?" He mock rolls his eyes, his playful banter a comfortable habit between them.

Hailey laughs softly, swatting his arm lightly. "Don't you get cheeky with me, mister. You're lucky I'm letting you use my lap as a pillow at all."

Hey, I earned that pillow privileges," Jay protests, his tone lighthearted. "I have to put up with your morning breath, after all."

Later that night, Jay emerges from the bedroom, his face pale and his breathing labored. He clutches at his chest, the familiar tightness creeping up on him. He had woken up from a nightmare, the echoes of it still lingering in his mind. But what started as a memory rapidly turned into a full-fledged panic attack. He stumbles a few steps forward, gasping for air.

He sinks down onto the couch, his hands shaking as he struggles to draw in air. The room seems to close in on him, the shadows in the corners of his vision morphing into haunting figures. His heart races, its beats echoing loudly in his ears. Words die on his lips, caught in the vise-like grip of panic. He tries to fight through it, to calm his racing heart and steady his breathing, but it feels like a losing battle.

Hailey had been asleep but the sound of Jay struggling to breathe makes her stir. She immediately bolts out of bed and runs into the living room, her heart racing. The sight of Jay on the couch, his face pale and his body shaking, sends a pang of concern through her. She instantly sits down next to him, wrapping her arms around him from behind.

"Hey, hey, it's alright," she murmurs soothingly, her voice low. "I'm here. Just breathe. Match my breaths, okay?"

Jay is so wrapped up in the panic coursing through him that he jolts at the feel of Hailey's touch, his body tense. But the sound of her voice grounds him slightly, pulling him out of the spiral of his panic. He struggles to focus on her, to let her calm wash over his racing brain. He attempts to match her breaths, his own jagged and unsteady.

Hailey continues to murmur reassurances, her hold on him firm and steady. "That's it," she encourages, her voice a soothing balm. "Just focus on my breaths. Inhale, exhale. Slow and steady. You're doing good, Jay."

As the panic attack slowly subsides, Jay's breathing starts to even out, his gasps quieter now in the silent room. But the aftermath of the attack leaves him shaken and dizzy, his vision slightly blurred. He slumps against Hailey, his body going lax.

Hailey gently lowers him so his head rests on her lap, her hands smoothing over his hair. "You're okay now," she reassures, her voice a soothing whisper in the quiet room.

Hearing a sudden noise, Mackenzie comes bounding down the stairs, her voice loud and unaware of the scene in the living room. "Mom, I-"

Hailey quickly shushes her, her voice stern. "Shh!" She gestures subtly to her dad, who is still lying with his head in her lap, his breaths still slightly ragged.

Mackenzie's eyes widen as she sees her dad's condition. "Is he...is he okay?" she whispers, her voice suddenly hushed.

Hailey nods, her hand stroking through Jay's hair. "He had a panic attack," she explains quietly. "He's alright now, just a little shaky."

Mackenzie moves closer, her eyes filled with concern. "Is there anything I can do?"

As the room falls back into a quieter tone, Hailey looks over at Mackenzie, her concern for both her husband and daughter evident.

"Can you go mash up some bananas for Blake?" she asks, her voice still gentle. "He's still teething."

Mackenzie nods, understanding. "Yeah, of course. Be right back." She heads off to the kitchen to prepare the mashed bananas, leaving Hailey alone with Jay once more.

As the sound of Mackenzie preparing the mash in the kitchen fills the silence, Hailey's attention returns to Jay, who is still lying on her lap, his breathing returning to normal.

Hailey's hand continues its soft strokes over his head, her eyes carefully watching his expression. She can sense that the aftermath of the panic attack has left him emotionally raw, and a breakdown might not be far off.

"Hey," she murmurs, her voice filled with gentle concern. "You with me?"

Jay lets out a weary sigh, his eyes still closed as he leans into her touch. "Yeah," he croaks out, his voice hoarse. "Just...a bit dizzy."

"Take it easy," Hailey advises quietly, continuing her soothing caresses. "You had a pretty intense attack. You're gonna feel shaky for a while."

"Mhm," Jay manages, his throat tight with unshed tears. "Feel like I'm gonna pass out."

"Breathe deep," Hailey counsels, her voice steady and calm. "And don't fight it. Just let it come. I'm right here."

She knows what a breakdown looks like for him by now. She's seen it enough times in the past.

Jay nods faintly, following her instructions and taking a slow, deep breath. The tears that have been threatening to fall since the attack finally spill over, tracking silently down his face.

"Shh, let it out," Hailey murmurs, her touch turning into a comforting rub from his shoulder to his back. "Don't hold back. I've got you."

That permission is all Jay needs to let go. His body trembles as sobs begin to wrack through him, the tears now falling silently and heavily. He turns his head into her lap, the dam of his emotions finally breaking free.

Hailey runs a soothing hand through his hair, her heart aching at the sound of his quiet sobs. She doesn't speak, just continues to run her hand through his hair and rub his back, her touch a silent reassurance that she's there and not going anywhere.

"You're alright," she whispers after a few minutes, her voice a comforting balm. "You're safe. I'm here. Just let it all out."

Jay continues to weep silently, his body shuddering with each sob that escapes him. The pain and fear and anxiety of the past few months are finally breaking through the barriers he'd tried so hard to keep up. But now, in the safety of his wife's arms, he lets it all spill out.

Hailey keeps up her soothing touches, her own heart heavy at the sight of her strong, stoic husband breaking down. But she's learned in their years together that these breakdowns, while painful for him, are necessary for him to heal. So she stays quiet, continuing to offer her presence and her understanding.

Hours later, as the house is once more quiet, the soft sounds of sleep filling the air, Jay and Hailey are settled in bed together. The events of the earlier breakdown still linger in the air, a bittersweet memory.

Jay lays on his back, Hailey nestled against his side - a position they've both grown familiar and comfortable with. The room is bathed in a soft, muted light from the nightlight across the room, casting just enough illumination to see each other's faces.