They slid into the backseat of the taxi. Its interior felt smaller than it should. The darkness of the taxi created an intimate atmosphere and the soft glow of the passing streetlights played across their faces, softening and enhancing their features.
Neither of them spoke, each looking out of their window, pretending to pay attention to the city outside. But their minds were far from there, swimming with memories from the life they had once shared and questions they were still too afraid to ask.
Every few minutes, their eyes met and a shy smile flickered on their lips before they quickly looked away again.
They were both quiet, but the silence between them wasn't uncomfortable. They were enjoying the shared moment—It felt so familiar. They used to be able to talk with their eyes only, no words needed, just a mutual understanding.
But beside the tender moment, they could both feel the pull between them, the growing tension of the attraction. It was hard to ignore it.
When another car cut them suddenly and the driver had to hit the brakes, she threw a knowing look at Jay. That's what she meant about avoiding driving in the city.
The brisk movement nudged them closer. Neither seemed to mind—neither pulled away at first. They were so close that they could feel the warmth of each other's bodies.
Their hands brushed lightly, without warning, and it felt like an electric jolt running through them. Erin stiffened, her breath catching for a moment before looking at him and quickly pulling her hand away. Her pulse pounded in her ears.
She was sitting on his left—on the wrong side of him. It wasn't just the spark that had unsettled her; it was the cold ring against her skin.
The damned ring.
Jay noticed her sudden movement, the way she tucked her hand into her lap as if the ring had burned her. He didn't dare move, but he could feel the complete shift of energy. He clenched his fist, pressing the ring into his palm like a punishment he deserved.
But it was too late. It had shattered the moment. The rest of the ride continued quietly, but now the silence was much heavier. The connection between them was gone.
By the time the cab finally pulled up outside her building, the moment felt like a relief. She fumbled for her wallet, her hands trembling more than she liked. She took a shaky breath, trying to regain some control.
"I got it," Jay said, his voice low and steady, though his own hand betrayed him with a faint tremor as he passed the fare to the driver.
Erin hesitated as she opened the door, pausing to glance back at him. "You coming?"
Jay nodded silently, climbing out after her. But in his chest, his heart was fighting with his mind, and it was a war he had no idea which one would win.
He followed her through the short walkway, glancing up at the sleek and modern condo building. It was the kind of place that successful people would live in. Jay couldn't help but glance around the lobby as they walked inside, taking in all the beautiful details.
"Nice place," he murmured, more to fill the silence than anything else.
Erin gave him a small smile but didn't respond. She was already focused on the elevator, her nerves tightening with every step they took.
The elevator ride up seemed painfully slow. They were both frozen in place, focused on their breathing. The space felt impossibly small.
Jay shifted uncomfortably, shoving both his hands into his hoodie's pocket. Erin stared straight at the door that was reflecting how uneasy they both were. The faintest brush of their arm against each other sent shockwaves through them both.
We're just here to talk. He repeated it in his head like a mantra, trying to ground himself and ignore the urge to just grab her and push her against the metal walls.
Erin closed her eyes like it would make the pull she felt toward him go away. She took a slow deliberate breath, trying to steady her heartbeats. But when she opened them again, she caught him watching her through the distorted reflection.
The numbers climbed: 20… 21…
"It's just a few more floors," she said, finally breaking the silence.
He nodded, swallowing hard. "Yeah."
Just here to talk, he reminded himself. But as they neared the 27th floor, he wasn't sure if he believed it anymore.
When the elevator door finally dinged open, Erin rushed out, desperately needing to put some distance between them. Jay took a deep breath before following her.
He stopped a step behind while she looked for her keys and opened the door nervously.
When she flicked the lights on, the place seemed to come to life. Jay stood by the doorway looking at the apartment with a mix of awe and disbelief.
The huge glass windows offered a breathtaking view of the city sparkling lights.
"Wow…" he muttered, unable to hide his admiration. "You've done well for yourself, Lindsay."
She glanced back at him, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "It's just a place to sleep, work and overthink life," she said, trying to brush his surprise away, inviting him in.
She dropped her keys and bag onto the small side table by the entryway and quickly adjusted her hair in the mirror before stepping inside. He smirked but didn't say anything when she removed her boots and placed them neatly side by side, instead of just kicking them around like she used to do. He did the same, placing his boots next to hers.
The sleek, open-floor layout was both modern and cozy, with every detail carefully chosen.
His eyes wandered across the room. The living room and kitchen blended seamlessly, spacious and functional. The kitchen had shiny appliances, with a double-door refrigerator, a nice size island and a glass top dinner table.
In the living room he noticed the perfectly arranged furniture, but what really made his eyes sparkle was the massive TV mounted on the wall.
The whole place was the complete opposite of all the apartments they had back in Chicago. Everything was high-end and fancy. It was so different from the Erin he remembered, yet at the same time, each detail screamed her name.
Jay's eyes continued to roam across the open floor space as Erin moved past him.
"C'mon, I will show you the rest." she said, leading him further into the corner room all the way in the back of the living room. "My office," she announced, gesturing toward the space.
Jay stepped inside, eyebrows lifting in genuine surprise. Two walls of floor-to-ceiling windows framed the room, with the city lights outside creating an almost cinematic backdrop. A large desk dominated the space, cluttered with monitors, files, and tech gadgets.
"You've got the whole headquarters right here," he said, shaking his head as he took it all in.
"Something like that," she admitted with a small chuckle. "Sometimes it's just easier to work from here. And besides…" She trailed off, shrugging as if she didn't need to explain.
Jay brushed his hands over the edge of the desk, his gaze flicking to the screens. "Still can't believe it. You? Sitting behind a desk? Never thought I'd see the day."
"Oh, trust me," she said, leaning casually against the doorway. "I'm not always behind a desk."
She moved outside, going back to the main space. She skipped the door in the middle, flicking on another light. "Bathroom's in here," she said, her voice a little softer.
Jay's breath caught slightly as he followed her and looked inside. The marble floor, the modern glass shower, the freestanding tub by the window with a view that could make anyone forget about the world—it all looked like it belonged to a 5-star spa.
There were so many cabinets and the place was so well lit. He noticed the makeup mirror retracted to the wall, but there was no makeup visible. Nothing at all cluttered the beautiful sink. That was… weird. So different from the mess she used to make in their bathroom.
"Wow," he said, running his hand through his hair with a smirk. "This is officially the nicest bathroom I've ever seen."
"Yeah, well," she said with a faint grin, rolling her eyes, "spend enough time undercover and in those stinky motels and eventually, you want something that feels like the opposite."
Jay turned to her, his expression softening. "You deserve it, Erin," he said quietly, his voice tinged with sincerity.
As their eyes met in the bright light of the room, the vulnerability between them was palpable, but Erin quickly turned away, her hand brushing her hair behind her ear.
She let the bathroom door swing shut and hesitated a moment before turning to the door she'd initially skipped. "And this," she said, flipping on the light with a casual motion, "is my bedroom."
Jay stepped inside, his eyes immediately drawn to the massive king-size bed, meticulously made with crisp white sheets and an almost comical amount of pillows.
Her shy smile from the first time she told him about her pillows flashed back to his mind. Do your thing, babe, he had told her. Not at all concerned about how many pillows he would have to share their bed with.
"Oh wow! The family has grown," he teased, with a loopside grim, gesturing to the mountain of pillows.
Erin rolled her eyes, "You know I like to be cozy…"
But her humor didn't quite hide the truth—the pillows, no matter how many she surrounded herself with, never filled the emptiness of the bed. Of her life.
Jay moved further into the room, his gaze scanning the details. He stopped abruptly, his brow furrowing as his eyes landed on something familiar on the nightstand table.
"Is that…?" he asked, stepping closer. His voice trailed off when he spotted a brown teddy bear dressed as a police officer. He hadn't seen it since the day he gave it to her, back when they were just partners, way before they started dating.
Her eyes widened, and her heart skipped a beat; she had always kept it out of sight when they were together.
Jay turned back to her, his expression a mix of surprise and disbelief.
Erin shifted uncomfortably and crossed her arms. "Yeah…" she said, trying to downplay it.
But his attention had already moved to something else. A faded black hoodie, tossed over the back of an armchair. He recognized it right away as one of the few that had not so mysteriously vanished from his dresser five years ago.
He walked over, and brushed his fingers against the soft and worn-out fabric.
The simple gesture was enough to make her cheeks flush. She shyly looked away, tucking her hair behind her ear. "It's… comfortable," she muttered, almost apologetically.
Jay let out a soft laugh. He glanced back at the bear, then at the hoodie, and finally at her. "You kept them."
She finally met his gaze, her vulnerability shining through despite her best efforts to keep her walls up. "I guess I did," she admitted.
For a moment, neither of them said anything. The silence was filled with so many memories.
"It's just stuff, Jay. Don't read too much into it," she said, breaking the silence and gesturing to the bear and the hoodie. But her wavering voice told him otherwise.
"Right," he said softly, his eyes lingering on her for a moment longer. "Just stuff."
But they both knew it wasn't.
His gaze swept the room again, from the neatly made bed to the view of the city outside the window. It hit him just how much her life had changed since Chicago. She had built something new here, something that—at least on the surface—seemed stable and successful."
"Your place is really nice, Er," Jay said, as he continued to glance around, going back to the living room. "I'm happy for you. Looks like that Fed paycheck's treating you well."
She smirked, "Yeah… especially when you work 16 hours a day."
"Sixteen hours?" He raised an eyebrow, his tone exaggerated with mock horror. "What happened to the Erin Lindsay who used to roll her eyes at overtime?"
"You were the one who used to run from overtime, not me. It's easier to keep busy. You know, less time to think about… stuff."
His teasing expression softened, his eyes narrowing slightly as he caught the weight behind her words. "Sixteen hours is more than 'keeping busy,' Er."
She shrugged, turning away to adjust a random pillow on her couch. "It's not that bad now. I've scaled back… kinda..."
He studied her for a moment, the quietness of her movement betraying something deeper. He was immediately worried about her. "You know, you don't have to burn yourself down like that. It's okay to take a break."
Erin chuckled, but it lacked her usual warmth. "Oh, and what would I do with all that free time? Knit sweaters?"
Jay shook his head, smiling faintly. "You could do anything. Maybe even relax."
"Relax," she repeated with a dry laugh, glancing back at him. "Do you even remember who you're talking to? It's me, Jay."
He tilted his head, giving her a pointed look. "Exactly. That's why I'm saying it."
She hesitated, then turned fully to face him, her voice softening. "It's fine, really. I've got a system. Work keeps things… manageable." She tilted her head, her smirk softening. "You know, you could get one too." She tried to shift the subject.
"One what?"
"A Fed paycheck," she said, her tone casual but with a hint of hope.
Jay blinked, genuinely surprised. "Me? A Fed?"
"Uh-huh. Why not?" She nodded, her eyes sparkling as she imagined it—the two of them working together again—the connection they shared, the way they always had each other's backs, the way they could speak with their eyes only. God, she missed that. She missed him.
Jay let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. "Not sure the Feds would know what to do with me."
"They'd manage," she replied, her grin returning. "Or I'd train you myself. Just like old times."
"Is that so?" He smirked, crossing his arms.
"Absolutely. I'd whip you into shape in no time."
"Pretty sure it was the other way around," he teased.
"Nah… You'd be calling me 'boss' in no time."
Jay snorted. "You? My boss?"
"Don't act so surprised," she teased, crossing her arms. "I already saved your ass plenty of times. Just admit it."
He held up his hands in mock surrender. "Okay, okay. Maybe. Once or twice."
"Try more like twenty."
Jay chuckled, the sound warm and familiar. "You kept count?"
"Of course," she shot back with a wink. "Partners don't let each other forget."
"Partners," he repeated quietly, his voice softening.
A flicker of vulnerability crossed her face, but she quickly masked it with a smile. "Yeah. Partners. We were pretty good, huh?"
"The best," he replied, his smile fading into something more thoughtful. A beat of silence passed before he glanced at her again, tilting his head. "Maybe… someday," he said quietly, the words holding more weight than either of them expected.
Erin nodded slowly, the words hanging in the air between them. "Someday," she echoed, her voice tinged with hope she couldn't quite suppress.
"Will you give me a few minutes? I need to strip out of these coffee-soiled clothes and take a quick shower…" she said, glancing down at her white silk top that was mostly covered by her blazer.
Jay's eyes lingered on her for way longer than they should. His breath caught for a few seconds, and he bit his tongue to stop the first response that came to mind. Don't say it, Halstead. Don't.
But his silence was loud enough to give him away, and Erin arched an eyebrow as she headed toward her room to get new clothes. "No thanks, I don't need help" she quipped over her shoulder, her lips curling into a sly grin.
"I didn't say anything," he replied, laughing softly, though his tone betrayed him.
"You didn't have to," she shot back, tossing him a knowing look before disappearing into her bedroom again.
He closed his eyes, blushing lightly once she was out of sight. Yup, she knew him too well.
Erin's voice floated from the bedroom. "Make yourself comfortable! There's beer in the fridge. Turn on the game if you want—the remote's on the table."
She came out of the bedroom, holding some fresh clothes, as if she was almost hiding something, carefully trying not to drop anything.
Jay smirked, walking toward the couch. "You sure you don't need me to supervise? You know, make sure there's no lingering coffee stains?"
"Nice try," she called back, the amusement clear in her voice.
"Just offering to help," he said, feigning innocence as he opened the fridge.
"Help yourself to that beer, Halstead. That's all the help I need."
He chuckled and walked to the fridge, grabbing a bottle. As he twisted the cap off, his eyes kept darting toward her. The familiar pull between them was unmistakable, and he could feel the tension lingering in the air.
"Do you have someone to help you around here?" Jay finally blurted out what he was wondering since he walked through the door. He was clearly impressed by the apartment spotless condition.
Erin stopped on her way to the bathroom and turned around, placing her hand on her hip with a playful expression, pretending to be offended.
"Of course I do," she said after a brief pause, smirking. "Her name's Grace. She actually came in today and worked her magic. But if you come back in a couple of days, it'll be back to my version of organized chaos."
Jay raised an eyebrow, glancing around at the clean surfaces. "Grace, huh? I didn't realize you could find someone who could work miracles like this."
"Oh, she's really good," Erin replied, shrugging as she headed back toward the bathroom.
Jay chuckled. "I don't know how you live like that."
"Like what? A normal person that isn't psycho neat-freak? You're the one who should relax a bit!" She teased him right back.
Jay laughed and crossed his arms, eyeing her playfully. "I'd rather keep my place clean, thank you very much."
"Uh-huh," she said, disappearing back into the bathroom. "Give me two days, and it'll be back to its true state."
Jay shook his head in mock disbelief, taking another look around. "I wish I could be back in a couple of days. Just to make sure that it's 'true state' hasn't buried you under a mountain of laundry."
She rolled her eyes playfully.
He felt a little sense of relief. He knew she couldn't have changed that much. His Erin was so messy! They had quite a few heated arguments because of that when they first moved in together. And as much as he would never admit it, he missed her mess.
"I won't take long… promise…" She chuckled, finally closing the bathroom door.
She leaned with her back to the door, letting a grin spread across her face until her cheeks hurt. She missed that so badly... the easy playful tone between them, the mutual teasing, the stolen glances.
She removed her blazer and saw the full extent of the coffee stain for the first time. She laughed at how clumsy and ridiculous she must have looked! Dropping coffee all over herself like that just for hearing his voice calling out her name.
The shirt was definitely ruined. Not even Grace would be able to help her save it. But she didn't care.
She finished getting her clothes off, imagining his hands on her body again. She shouldn't have said that she didn't need help. Her body definitely wanted him there.
She brushed the thought away and stepped in the shower, eager to finish quickly so she could return to the living room—to him.
Jay knew her routine. She loved taking long hot showers, and he knew that would give him plenty of time to let his thoughts wander.
He took a sip of his beer and let his eyes drift around the apartment, scanning the shelves. A photo of the entire intelligence team caught his attention—Erin was in the center, his arms around her, smiling brightly, with Nadia by her other side. Hank, Antonio, Mouse, Kev, Kim, Ruz, and even Trudy and Roman. The picture brought a familiar warmth to his chest.
Next to it, there were a few pictures of Hank, Camille, and Justin. And then there was a picture of a little boy, Daniel. He had been a baby when Jay last saw him. He smiled to himself, remembering the Christmas evening he had spent at Hank's house, with Justin, Olive and baby Daniel. He had spent most of the night playing with the baby, avoiding the awkwardness of being in his boss's house as his daughter's date for the first time.
His gaze shifted to a couple of pictures of a puppy—one with just the dog, the other with Erin holding it, her face glowing with a pure, unguarded joy. It was the first picture he'd seen of her since moving to New York, and it struck him instantly, the way she was smiling so freely. She looked so happy.
A pang of curiosity hit him. The dog, the one that seemed to make her smile so effortlessly… where was it now? He scanned the room for any sign of it—a bed, bowls, toys—but saw nothing. Had the puppy grown up and moved on, or was it just somewhere else in the apartment?
His eyes wandered to something unusual: a frame facing down, slightly hidden behind the others. Something about it drew him in. Without thinking, he reached out and gently turned it over. The image froze him for a moment. It was that picture—the one they had taken together years ago, right before everything changed. The one he also still kept on his phone. The one that had always felt like a reminder of what they were, what they could have been.
A tear slipped down his cheek before he could stop it, and a quiet smile tugged at his lips. He remembered how happy they had been in that moment, how everything felt possible. They both had a huge, goofy smile on their faces. And he remembered how he kissed her cheek loudly and playfully right after taking that picture. The memory was so vivid that it felt as if the picture was alive. They were young, naive in the best way. They had looked at each other as if the world was theirs to conquer.
He wondered how long the picture had been facedown. Had it been permanently like that for a long time? Or was it a quick timeout? He had no idea… but he didn't want it hidden anymore. Gently, he placed it back where it belonged—right at the front. No more hiding. In plain sight, where good memories should live. He smiled at it.
He swallowed hard, willing the lump in his throat to disappear. It had been so easy to pretend they had moved on, but standing there, holding that picture, he realized how much of him she was still holding on.
Jay sank into the couch, his body instantly relaxing into the softness. She had gotten it right again. Function and form—just perfect. The couch was beautiful and heavenly comfortable, but it wasn't just the plush cushions that had him lost in thought. His mind wandered back to the old days, back to when they had test-driven her new couch in Chicago. "That's for never giving up on me." She had said, after kissing him again for the first time in months. That was her way of letting him know that she was not close to them anymore. So, he just kissed her again. "What was that for?" she had asked with a shy smile. "Because I wanted to kiss you." The answer was simple but honest. And he had wanted it for so long. He was just waiting for her to be ready. And then, well, they went for a full test drive of the new couch.
He sighed, forcing himself to focus on the present and not get caught up in memories. He glanced around the room, his eyes landing on the TV. It was one of those fancy models that could retract into the wall, and look like a framed painting when it was off. He smiled to himself. He remembered the first time he'd seen something like that—he had instantly thought of her. He knew she'd want one.
"Not on my wall, Jay!" she had scolded him back then when he was measuring the space on their living room wall in their old place, trying to figure out how his old tv would fit. Her voice was playful but firm. He could almost hear her mock-serious tone: "You are NOT putting that monstrosity on my wall!" Despite her protests, she never complained about watching hockey, football, or even the endless hours of soccer with him.
Except for golf. She couldn't understand his obsession with it. To her, it was too slow and boring. And even though she hated it, she would still sit with him and watch, just to see him get so excited about the game. She would rest her head on his shoulder, wondering what made it so special to him.
He chuckled softly, remembering how many times he tried to teach her. He had been so excited to show her the game's nuances, but every time he reached to adjust her grip or stance, she'd pull away with a playful smirk, distracting him in all the ways only she could. She would always find something much more exciting to do, pulling him into a kiss or brushing his hand away to tease him about being too serious.
The memory was bittersweet. It felt like another lifetime, another world where everything had been simple and easy. A time before all the distance, the complications. He closed his eyes for a second, pushing the ache in his chest aside. That was then. This was now.
It was just so weird to be in this apartment. Everything reminded him of their lives together. Everything screamed her name. It felt like everything between them had changed, but at the same time, it all stayed the same.
Jay forced himself to focus on the TV, his eyes trained on whatever game was playing, though he couldn't shake the tension building inside him. His mind, wasn't obeying. He couldn't stop thinking of her in that shower—the image of the water running down her perfect body. He felt the ache in his body for her. And the more he tried to push it away, the stronger it became.
He couldn't let his mind wander freely, or he would probably end up kicking in that bathroom door to get in that shower with her.
He looked at the door for a while, seriously considering it but he stopped himself, his grip tightening on the beer can in his hand. He was married. The thought hit him like a cold splash of water. He couldn't do that. He couldn't cross that line, no matter how much his body wanted her. It wouldn't be fair to Erin. He would have to leave again and it would only hurt her even more.
He tried to focus on the game again, but it was impossible to take the image of her out of his head.
He looked around the apartment again. He couldn't help but think that she seemed to be doing well. She had clearly built a successful life for herself. The apartment, the decor—it all spoke of success. She deserved it. Erin had always thrown herself into her work, no matter how tough things got. She was dedicated—relentless, even. She had always been the best partner he ever had, not just in the field, but in every way.
He missed her more than he could even put into words. The way she'd finish his thoughts without a word. The way they'd been in sync, always watching each other's backs. He missed having her at his side at Intelligence. After she left, things hadn't been the same. He didn't realize how much of a void she left in his life until she was gone. The team had shifted, the energy had changed. And no matter how good Hailey was as a partner, she couldn't even come close to filling that space.
A part of him—maybe the biggest part—had always known that he couldn't just let Erin go. But now, with everything that had happened, he wondered if it was too late for them. If somehow it was even possible to get back to what they once had.
Erin stepped out of the bathroom with her wet hair dripping slightly. She was dressed in leggings and a comfy sweater. No makeup, no frills—just Erin, natural and unguarded as she used to be around him. That delicious scent of perfume lingered in the air, the kind he hadn't realized he missed so much until now.
As much as the suited-up Erin was gorgeous, this Erin, the one in casual clothes, was his Erin—the relaxed, easygoing version he remembered. She looked younger, freer, and somehow even more beautiful in this simple state. The sight of her made him smile without even thinking about it.
"You've been redecorating already?" she asked, her eyes landing straight on the photo. The one of the two of them.
Jay froze, caught off guard. She spotted it immediately. He hadn't expected her to notice so quickly, and before he could recover, a blush crept up his neck. He flashed her that signature boyish grin, the one he couldn't stop even if he tried.
"It fell back there… I was just helping it up again," he said, his voice light and teasing, but his nervousness was showing.
She gave him a knowing look, raising an eyebrow. "Uh-huh…"
She didn't need to say more. She knew that he understood exactly what was going on. It wasn't just a random accident. She had deliberately turned the picture face-down, hiding it from her view, because looking at it day after day had been too painful. But deep down, she couldn't bring herself to throw it out or lock it away for good. The memories, no matter how hard they hurt, still had their hold on her.
Jay watched her for a beat longer than he should have, and for a moment, the playful smile faded into something a little more tender, but he quickly covered it up with another chuckle.
"Well, I'm just a good guest," he joked, trying to lighten the mood. "Making sure nothing gets left behind."
She rolled her eyes but didn't argue. It felt like old times again—comfortable, easy. A little teasing, a lot of unspoken understanding.
"Who is your little friend?" Jay asked, his eyes landing on the picture of a small, scruffy dog, looking as adorable as could be.
"Bailey..." Erin's voice dropped slightly, a shadow passing over her face. "He was the best friend I ever made here…"
Jay's face lit up. "He's cute! Where is he?"
Her shoulders slumped a little, and her smile faded. "He left me too."
"What?!" His heart sank at the shift in her tone.
"I had to put him down… he got very sick," Erin's voice cracked. "Cancer… he was just a baby. I had him for only two years."
The words hit him hard. "Oh… Er, I'm so sorry…" He reached for her and wanted to hold her tight, but hesitated as he didn't want to bring up painful memories.
She took a breath and gave a sad nod, "Thanks…" she murmured, walking to the kitchen to grab a beer. He noticed she didn't want to linger on the subject; some things were just too painful to revisit.
"Are you hungry?" Erin asked, her voice soft.
"Not really," Jay answered. His mind was too clouded with everything that had happened between them to focus on food.
"How about I'll order us a pizza?" she said.
"Okay…" he replied.
Erin left to get her phone and order the pizza. "It usually takes around 30 minutes," she called from her room.
Jay started to play absentmindedly with his wedding ring, spinning it around and taking it on and off again. He was not really thinking of anything, just keeping his hand and mind busy while waiting for her.
He felt it in his chest when he realized he was hesitating to put it back on, holding the ring in his hand. As if somehow the weight of it was a reminder of everything he couldn't undo.
Erin caught sight of him holding the ring, as she came back from her bedroom, her eyes softening with understanding but also pain.
"Don't do that, Jay," she said, her voice steady but low.
"What?" His head snapped up, startled, as if he hadn't realized how much he'd been toying with it.
"Just put it back on… don't make it even harder… please…" Her words were soft, almost pleading. She wasn't asking him to pretend. She wasn't asking him to ignore what was between them.
Hearing the pain and the vulnerability in her voice made him upset with himself. All he wanted was to protect her from all the pain.
"Sorry…" he muttered, his voice thick with a mixture of regret and frustration.
He didn't fully understand what she was asking, but he just obeyed, slipping the ring back on his finger. The metal against his skin seemed colder and heavier, and it felt like it was closing a door between them.
A/N: I hope it was not too long, with too much description... I just wanted to start slow... as I think they would navigate this cautiously. Next chapter we start to dive deeper into their heads. And that is basically what this story is about.. an emotional journey to untangle all their feelings.