He had already been in New York for five days. The city buzzed around him—constant movement, voices, traffic, and the relentless energy of 8.2 million people. But Jay found himself moving through it all like a ghost, separated from the world by an invisible wall. He had completed all the training and briefings, and now he was waiting to dive into the work. The team seemed solid, and for the first time in a long while, there was something that made him feel like he was finally getting his life back on track. It wasn't the job he had ever expected to take, but it served a purpose. For the first time in a while, he could see something clear ahead. It was something to focus on, something to hold onto.
But every day, no matter how hard he tried to immerse himself in the work, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing. He would walk the streets, eyes scanning the crowd, searching, always searching. Every face that passed by was a potential lead. Maybe it was her. Maybe this was the moment. Maybe, just maybe, Erin would appear out of the blue. In the middle of all this chaos, in the middle of millions of strangers, his heart would leap at the sight of someone who looked like her—the curve of her smile, the soft way she moved, the light in her eyes that had always made him feel like he was home. But no matter how many people he watched, how many streets he walked, she never came.
It was stupid, he knew it. But he couldn't help it. He'd catch himself looking down the subway stairs, across the street, past a crowd of strangers, hoping that she would just show up. That she'd appear as if by magic. His mind would play tricks on him: maybe that woman walking past looked a little like her, or maybe the voice calling out in the distance was Erin's. But it was never her. It never would be.
His thoughts always returned to the city's endless possibilities, the faces that crowded his vision, the noise that enveloped him, and the emptiness of his own heart. The city was big—too damn big. So many people, so many faces, but none that carried the warmth he longed for. He kept walking, hoping he might somehow catch a glimpse of what he'd lost.
Hailey kept calling. He dodged most of her calls, turning off his phone or letting it ring until the voicemail picked up. He knew what she was going to say—how was training? Are you okay? I miss you. And he knew that if he picked up, she would pull him back into the past he was trying to outrun. He didn't want to think about it, about her. About everything they had built. About the way he had broken it all. He was ashamed of that.
The one call he did pick up was just to say he was busy, too busy to talk. He could hear the sadness in her voice, the hesitation, the unspoken questions. But he couldn't face them. He couldn't face the guilt. Not yet. Maybe not ever. He had to move forward. That's what he told himself. The Army, the mission—that was his way out. It was the only thing that felt real, that felt like it could give him the peace he was desperate for. If he could bury his past, if he could bury the ghosts of what he'd lost, maybe—just maybe—he could find a way to move on.
But as he wandered the streets of New York, every corner turned, every passing face, he found himself slipping. He found himself hoping. Expecting that somehow, by some miracle, the universe would put Erin right in front of him. It was crazy. He knew it was crazy. But he couldn't stop. The hope was too deep, too strong. She was out there, somewhere, and he couldn't help but think that if he walked long enough, if he searched hard enough, he would find her again.
He had a couple of days off. Time to prepare for his trip to Bolivia, to tie up loose ends, and to say his final goodbyes. Goodbye to who? he wondered bitterly. There was no one left. He had already said goodbye to everyone he knew in Chicago. He had already hugged Will, his brother, his only family, one last time and walked away. It wasn't just a goodbye to the people—it was a goodbye to the city itself, the place that had shaped him, broken him, and held him captive for so long. There was no one else to say goodbye to.
No one, except her. The thought hit him like a freight train. He didn't have anything to lose, did he? The clock was ticking, and if there was even the slightest chance, he had to take it. It was reckless, irrational, and almost certainly pointless, but when had logic ever mattered when it came to her? The idea had been gnawing at him for years, always tucked into the back of his mind. He had convinced himself a hundred times that it was too far-fetched, too desperate, but now? Now, he had nothing to hold him back.
He knew the chances were slim—laughable, even—but he found himself walking toward the one place he had searched for countless times on his phone. The one address he had memorized without even realizing it: the FBI headquarters. She worked there, didn't she? Or at least, she had. He wasn't even sure anymore. It was just a piece of information he had clung to like a lifeline during his darkest nights. What if she doesn't work there anymore? It's been 5 years already. The thought tried to stop him, but he kept walking. He had to try.
The city felt even bigger now, swallowing him whole as he stood in front of the imposing building. He bought a coffee from a street cart, not because he wanted it, but because he needed something to hold, something to occupy his hands as his nerves betrayed him. Then he sat by the railings, the cold metal biting against his back, and watched.
For hours, he sat there, blending into the crowd of passersby and tourists. He watched people coming in and out of the building—agents, analysts, strangers wrapped up in their own lives. He wondered what kind of stories they carried, what kind of lives they lived. Was she one of them? He scanned every face, every profile, every fleeting glance, his heart leaping at the faintest resemblance. But it wasn't her. It was never her.
He was surprised no one had stopped him yet. He half-expected security to question him, to ask why he was loitering near the entrance, but no one did. He was just another nameless face in the crowd, a stranger holding a lukewarm cup of coffee, hiding in plain sight. The irony wasn't lost on him. A trained cop, a soldier, sitting there like a kid lost at a train station, hoping the one person he'd been searching for might just appear.
His mind was racing, but his heart was heavier than ever. What am I even doing here? he thought, his frustration building. But even as he questioned himself, he stayed. He couldn't leave. Not yet. Maybe not ever. He told himself he just wanted to see her—just one glimpse, one moment to prove that she was okay, that she was happy. But deep down, he knew the truth. He didn't just want to see her. He wanted her to see him. To know he was here. To feel what he felt, even if only for a second.
The hours stretched on, and the coffee in his hand grew cold, forgotten and so he got another… and another…. The bustle of the city continued around him, indifferent to his silent vigil. He had no plan, no backup, no idea of what he would do if she actually walked out of that building. He only knew one thing: he couldn't leave without trying.
Even if it meant sitting there forever.
He didn't know what her reaction would be if they actually met. Would she stop and talk to him? Would she still be angry after all these years? Would she ignore him entirely, pretend he didn't exist? Or worse, would she kick him out of her life all over again? He had absolutely no clue, and the uncertainty gnawed at him.
Damn it, I don't even know what I'd do, he thought bitterly. For years, anger had been his constant companion—anger at her for leaving, for shutting him out, for ignoring every message he had sent in the beginning when he was desperate for answers. If she ignored me for so long, why would she care now? But even as doubt crept in, one truth remained: he had to try. This could be his last chance, and the thought of walking away without even trying was unbearable.
His chest tightened as another thought broke through—What if I don't come back from Bolivia? The weight of the possibility hung over him, as it had since he signed the papers. Maybe that was part of the plan… and maybe that was why he was here now. He needed her to know—something, anything. He just didn't know what words he'd use if she gave him the chance.
He was nursing what had to be his fifth coffee of the day, the bitter taste doing nothing to settle his nerves, when he saw her. And for a moment, his entire world stopped.
It was her.
There she was, moving through the crowd with the same natural grace he remembered, and somehow, she was even more beautiful than in his memories. She was dressed sharply, her clothes perfectly tailored to her frame, her hair shorter than he remembered but styled in a way that suited her so well it made his heart ache. Her skin glowed with the kind of radiance that comes from someone who had found their place in the world. She didn't see him. She was focused on someone else—a tall guy walking beside her.
The man was imposing, with tanned skin and a confident stride, dressed impeccably in a black suit. They looked… comfortable together, like two people who had worked side by side for years. His stomach churned as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing.
"Bye, OA!," she said casually, her voice light and familiar.
"Bye, Agent Bell," the man replied, his deep voice carrying easily as he turned in the opposite direction.
Agent Bell? Jay's mind reeled, the words hitting him like a punch to the gut. Bell? What the fuck? His heart sank as his thoughts spiraled to the most obvious conclusion: she was married.
Of course she had moved on. It had been five years—five long years. He should've expected this. He should've been prepared. But nothing could've prepared him for the weight of it, the finality. She had found someone else, built a life without him. And there he was, still stuck in the past, still tethered to a version of her that no longer existed.
His heart thudded painfully as he watched her walk toward the stairs, slipping away from him. Every instinct screamed at him to let it go, to let her go, but something inside wouldn't let him.
Don't be a coward. Not again.
He forced himself to his feet, his legs shaky but determined. He didn't have a plan, didn't have the right words, but he knew one thing: he couldn't let her walk out of his life without at least trying.
"Erin?" he said, with his voice a little rougher than he intended, carrying his anxiety. He was still, as if the air had suddenly run out of his lungs.
She stopped suddenly. Dropping the coffee cup that she was holding. She didn't need to look back to recognize that voice. For a few seconds she was paralyzed unable to move.
"Er?" He tried again, softer this time.
The short version of her name, which she hadn't heard in 5 years, ended every ounce of doubt that she could have.
She turned around slowly. It felt like time had reversed. That it hadn't passed at all. Her heart slammed against her chest, and she felt an overwhelming rush of emotion.
She saw his lip twitching nervously when their eyes locked into each other's.
He was wearing jeans, a black hoodie and sneakers. Unshaved. Still looked like a boy. A little rougher, maybe. And the eyes looked deeper, sad, but she could see them liting up slowly while looking at her. She saw them doing their magic right before her eyes. Going from gray to blue until they matched the sky. She smiled at it. She used to tease him saying he had magical eyes and for some reason she never understood, his cocky self would blush and get shy whenever she talked about his eyes.
He felt a little ashamed for not dressing up for the occasion. She was gorgeous and so put together. But to be honest, he didn't really expect to see her. He thought he was going to spend the whole day there waiting in vain. He was bracing himself for disappointment.
A disappointment he knew could be devastating and break him even further.
"Jay?" She whispered his name not really believing her own eyes.
"Hi." He gave her a boyish smile nervously.
"Hi"
"I am sorry about the coffee. Was it hot? Are you hurt?"
That was definitely her Jay. Always worried about her. He just couldn't help it.
She shook her head slightly and then looked at her own shirt after seeing him checking her out. She had spilled coffee all over her white silk shirt. It was probably ruined, but she didn't care. She just closed her blazer to cover it.
He was not ashamed to run his eyes all over her body and he just smiled cockily when she caught him doing it.
You look nice, Er." Jay said softly, almost hesitant, as his eyes flicked to her hands. No ring. That realization tugged a small, unbidden smile from his lips.
Erin's lips curved into a small, teasing smile as her eyes scanned him. "You don't look bad yourself either, Jay," she said, crossing her arms loosely.
Jay huffed out a laugh, glancing down at his scuffed-up sneakers and tugging at the hem of his worn hoodie. "I'm wearing beat-up running hoodies," he muttered, spreading his arms to emphasize the point. His gaze flickered back up to her, his expression softening. "While you're all suited up…"
"Well, I was at work… what are you doing here?" She asked, raising her eyebrows.
"Running," he said quickly, his lips twitching into a shameless grin.
Erin's eyes narrowed, her expression skeptical. "Running? In front of the FBI headquarters? Uh-huh.." She glanced at her watch, raising her eyebrows. "The Jay I knew used to run before sunrise, not in the middle of the day."
"Maybe I've changed a little," he said with a shrug, the corners of his mouth pulling into a sheepish smile.
She studied him for a beat, her smile growing as if she'd caught him. "Uh-huh."
Jay blushed, knowing he'd been busted, but the warm flush on her cheeks matched his, easing some of his tension.
"I was in town and figured I'd take a chance," he said, his tone softening. "To say goodbye."
"Goodbye?" The word landed heavily between them, and her smile faltered. Her chest tightened, a small tug in her heart that she wasn't prepared for.
Jay swallowed, his eyes locking with hers. "Hmm… Can I buy you a coffee?" he asked tentatively, his voice a little rough. "You know… to replace the one I made you drop."
Her gaze drifted over him again, slower this time, taking in the subtle changes in his face, the way his shoulders seemed heavier, how his eyes still held something familiar, something broken yet determined. When her eyes met his again, she smiled and blushed faintly.
"Yeah… I guess you owe me that."
Jay followed her gaze as she scanned the nearby options: the coffee cart on the street, a familiar Starbucks, and an upscale café on the corner.
"There?" he asked, his brows lifting in surprise as she nodded toward the upscale café. The Erin he remembered would've gone straight for Starbucks, not the fancy spot with its polished wood and artisanal pastries.
"Yes," she said with a small shrug, "just because it's quieter."
"Quiet is good," he agreed, nodding.
They fell into step, side by side, the silence between them both comfortable and charged. Each stolen glance brought a small, hesitant smile, and though neither said a word, their unspoken emotions filled the space between them.
Note: since the very first time I watched FBI I thought that Maggie should be Erin... and it just screamed at me when I learned her husband name was also Jason... not using her background, but just placing Erin there... we'll see how it evolves...