Chapter 12: One Step at a Time
A few days later, the air at the shooting range was thick with concentration. The constant hum of fluorescent lights above and the sharp, echoing crack of gunshots in the distance filled the space. Jess stood at the line, her stance firm, her hands gripping the weapon in front of her. She had her eyes locked on the target, her breath steady—at least, that's how it appeared to anyone else.
But Don, standing just a few feet away, watched closely, and he could see the subtle tremor in her hand. The gun wavered slightly as she lined up the sights, her fingers stiff around the grip. The sharp contrast between her usual composure and the uncertainty now creeping into her movements didn't escape him. He'd seen Jess face down danger without hesitation before—seen her work under pressure with nothing but focus—but now? She was tense, her muscles rigid.
Jess took a breath, adjusted her grip, and squeezed the trigger. The shot rang out, hitting the outer ring of the target. She exhaled slowly, but Don could see the strain in her features.
"Hey," he called softly, stepping toward her, his voice low enough not to disrupt her focus. "You okay?"
Jess didn't immediately respond. She adjusted her stance, taking another deep breath, trying to steady her hands. She raised the gun again, but this time, Don saw her fingers twitch slightly. The tremor was more noticeable now.
"I'm fine," she said, her voice tight but not convincing.
Don didn't buy it. He stepped up beside her, not pushing her to stop, but not letting her pretend either. "You don't look fine, Jess. You're shaking." His eyes flicked to her hands, still gripping the gun with determination, but clearly betraying her.
She paused, lowering the weapon just a fraction, her eyes flicking to the floor. "It's just... it's just nerves," she said, the words barely more than a whisper. "I haven't done this in a while. I thought I was ready." She let out a frustrated breath, shaking her head, as if to convince herself as much as him. "I'll get it together."
Don watched her, his expression softening. He knew how hard she'd worked to get to this point—how much she wanted to prove to herself that she was ready, that she was whole again. But he also knew how hard it was to face those moments when everything felt just a little out of reach.
He placed a hand on her shoulder, his touch light but grounding. "Jess," he said, his tone low and steady. "It's okay to not be perfect right away. You've been through a lot. We both have. No one's rushing you."
Jess let out a shaky laugh, but the vulnerability in her eyes was unmistakable. "I just don't want to be weak. I don't want anyone to think I'm not ready." She glanced at him, her gaze a mixture of frustration and self-doubt. "I can't go back out there if I'm not at my best."
Don's grip tightened on her shoulder, his thumb brushing gently against the fabric of her shirt. "Hey. You are at your best," he said softly. "You're here. You're trying. That's all anyone can ask for. But pushing yourself to be perfect right away? That's not going to help you, Jess."
Her jaw tightened, but she didn't pull away. Instead, she gave a slow nod, the tension in her shoulders easing just a fraction. "You're right," she murmured, looking back at the target. "I'm just... afraid. I don't want to be scared."
"You're allowed to be scared," Don said, his voice calm and reassuring. "But don't let the fear stop you. Take it one step at a time. You've come so far. Don't forget that."
Jess took another steadying breath, her hands still trembling slightly but not as violently as before. She raised the gun again, this time more slowly, her movements deliberate. She aimed at the target once more, the tremors still there, but she was holding it together.
"Okay," she whispered, more to herself than to Don. "Okay. I can do this."
Don stood by her side, his presence a quiet anchor. "You've got this," he said, a gentle confidence in his voice. "One shot at a time."
Jess squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, taking in one more steadying breath before opening them again. She focused. The world around her seemed to quiet, her body slowly falling back into the rhythm she knew so well.
When she pulled the trigger again, the sound of the shot ringing through the range was a much cleaner hit. Right in the center.
Don smiled, his pride barely contained. "See?" he said, his voice softer now. "Told you."
Jess couldn't help but grin, though it was still tinged with the uncertainty she was working to overcome. "One step at a time, huh?"
"One step at a time," Don echoed, his voice steady and sure.
And for the first time in a long while, Jess felt a little lighter. She wasn't where she wanted to be yet—but she was getting there. Slowly, surely, one shot at a time.
Sunday Night:
"Dad, would you stop?" Jess sighed, holding her phone steady in the dim light of her apartment. She could see the familiar lines of concern etched in her father's face, the same ones she'd seen since she was a kid. But tonight, they were heavier, more urgent. The night before she returned to active duty was never easy, but tonight felt particularly tense.
"Just make sure you're really ready, Jess. I don't like how fast you're rushing into this," her father's voice crackled through the phone, the worry thick in every word. "It hasn't been long since the shooting. You should take more time—"
"Dad, I'm fine," Jess cut him off, her voice steady, though her stomach churned with a mix of excitement and unease. "I've been cleared, you know that. I've been training, I'm stronger than ever." She tried to sound confident, but the truth was, her body wasn't the problem. It was the weight of the memories she carried—how would they affect her in the field?
Her father looked unconvinced. "I just... I can't shake the feeling that you're rushing this. You're all I have left. After your mom..." His voice faltered. It didn't matter that he didn't finish the sentence. Jess felt the suffocating weight of those unsaid words.
"I'm not going anywhere, Dad," she said, her voice softer now. "And you have a lot more than me— the boys, the grandkids, and Sherry." She could hear the quiet tension in his breath as he ran a hand over his face. "I need you to understand I'm not her. I won't make the same mistakes. You raised me to be strong. I need to do this." Jess paused, her throat tightening. "I know it's hard, but I have to go back. For me."
The silence on the other end of the call stretched, hanging heavy between them. Her father's face softened just a little.
"You're just like her, you know that?" he said quietly. "I never wanted this for you, Jess. I never wanted to lose you too. But I... I know you're going to do it anyway."
Jess's heart ached. Her mom had been everything to him, and losing her the way they had—so suddenly, so violently—had carved something out of him that never healed. Jess often wondered if he'd ever forgiven her for walking the same path her mother had walked, the same one that led to tragedy.
"I'm not going anywhere, Dad," she repeated, swallowing past the lump in her throat. "I love you. I'll be fine."
Her father nodded, though his eyes betrayed him. "I know you will. Just... take care of yourself. And if you ever feel like you're in over your head—don't be afraid to come home. I'll be here."
"I know," she whispered, a sense of comfort and guilt settling over her. "I'll be careful. I promise."
They both held the silence for a long beat, neither willing to say goodbye, but knowing it was coming. Jess's phone buzzed. She glanced at it quickly and saw it was a message from Chris. "Is everything okay?"
"Dad," she said, a little more cheerfully, "I have to go. Chris is texting me."
Her father's lips twitched, almost like a smile. "You always were the popular one. Go on, I'll talk to you later."
"Love you," she said, the words like a quiet prayer.
"I love you too, kid," he replied, and the call ended with the soft click of the line going dead.
Jess exhaled slowly, staring at the screen. Her father's face was still in her mind, and despite her words, she felt the weight of the promise she made to him. She couldn't help but feel like she was stepping onto a path she couldn't turn back from.
The message from Chris popped up again, this time with a string of question marks. Jess typed back quickly, trying to shake off the emotions that threatened to swamp her.
"Yeah, everything's good. Just Dad being Dad."
She tossed the phone onto the couch beside her and stood, pacing the small apartment. She couldn't blame them for worrying. They'd been through hell together when she'd gotten shot—when her mother had been taken from them the same way. It wasn't just the physical scars they carried, it was the memories, the weight of the trauma that followed them like a shadow.
But she was different now. Stronger. The months of therapy, of learning how to cope with the pain, had helped her rebuild, piece by piece. She had her own reasons for returning to the job she loved, the work that made her feel alive, the work that gave her purpose.
Still, every time she thought of it, the fear of losing someone she loved—again—crept into her mind, gnawing at her.
Another text from Chris.
"Can we talk? Call me when you're done."
Jess sighed and grabbed her phone. She knew her brother's voice would be the same as their father's—concerned, protective. He didn't understand why she was going back. It wasn't that he didn't respect her decision. He just couldn't imagine the idea of her risking her life again.
She hit the call button and waited.
"Hey, Christopher," she greeted, her tone more relaxed than it felt.
"Hey, are you sure about this?" he asked without preamble, his voice tinged with concern. "I mean, it's only been a couple months, Jess. You're still recovering—"
"I'm ready," she said firmly, trying to keep the wobble out of her voice. "I'm not rushing it. I've thought about this for a long time."
Chris didn't respond right away. She could hear the faint sound of him pacing on the other end. "I just... I don't want to lose you too, Jess," he said, his voice softer now. "You're my baby sister and I love you."
She swallowed hard, blinking away the sudden rush of emotion. "I'm not going anywhere, Chris. I promise."
Another beat of silence passed. Then he sighed. "I guess I can't stop you. Just... promise me you'll be careful. Come home in one piece."
"I will," she whispered, even though the fear of what might happen still loomed large in her heart.
It was a promise she wasn't sure she could keep, but she would try.
Don had been in the bedroom, putting laundry away and giving her some space. When he walked back into the living room, he sat next to her on the couch. Jess turned, resting her back against the armrest, and placed her feet on his lap, a familiar gesture that brought him comfort. She pulled her new Rangers throw off the back of the couch and draped it over her legs.
Don couldn't help but smile as he glanced at the blanket. He'd given it to her a few weeks ago as a joke, knowing her Devils throw had become threadbare from years of use. He never imagined she'd actually use the Rangers one, a playful symbol of their long-running rivalry over their favorite hockey teams. She had rolled her eyes when he gave it to her, but now here it was, wrapped around her like any other blanket, a piece of their banter woven into the fabric.
"They're going to drive me nuts," Jess commented, her voice laced with frustration but also a touch of affection.
Don smiled. "They love you."
"I love them too. Still going to drive me insane," she commented. Their worry and doubt made her worry and doubt. Tomorrow was a big day, and she felt the heaviness on her chest and shoulders. "They're too protective. I'm ready," she went on, glancing at Don for reassurance. "You think I'm ready, right?"
Don smiled at Jess and nodded, hiding his own protectiveness and worries about her return. He couldn't help but think about a few days ago at the range—how she had been nervous, shaken by the thought of holding a gun. Would she be able to handle the field? He knew loud sounds still bothered her, and she couldn't go near Tilley's Diner—neither could he.
"You're ready," Don said, his voice firm, but inside, the doubt lingered. He didn't want to dampen the high she'd been on, she needed this—he knew—but was she truly ready?
Don sat there, his fingers gently massaging her feet as she leaned back, lost in her thoughts. He could feel the weight of the moment, the anxiety settling between them like a thick fog. Jess wasn't saying much, but her mind was clearly racing, caught in the aftermath of the phone call with her family, the overwhelming pressure of the decision she was about to make, and the nagging doubts that she hadn't fully voiced aloud. Don could tell she was holding something back, but now wasn't the time to push. Instead, he just let the silence sit with them for a few moments longer, feeling the warmth of her feet against his lap.
As he stared down at her, a thought that had been swirling in his mind for days finally broke free. It wasn't something he had planned to say tonight, but the pull to say it now felt too strong to ignore. He glanced up at her, noticing how exhausted she looked. Her face was a little drawn, the soft lines of fatigue etched across her forehead. Despite everything she was carrying, despite the emotional weight of everything she'd been through, she was still here—still pushing forward. But that same determination that made her strong also made her hold everything inside.
"Jess," Don said softly, his voice a little tentative. He paused for a moment, trying to figure out how to put it into words. "I've been thinking a lot about us... about everything." He cleared his throat, meeting her eyes now. "I know you're going back to work tomorrow, and I know it's a big deal for you. But I can't help but think... maybe we need to make some changes. Maybe it's time for us to... well, take the next step."
Jess blinked up at him, clearly caught off guard by the sudden shift in the conversation. She tilted her head, her eyes narrowing with curiosity and just a hint of caution.
"Next step?" she repeated, her voice soft but unsure. "What do you mean?"
Don felt his heart speed up a little. He had never been one to jump into serious conversations lightly. But the more he thought about it, the more certain he became. He wasn't just standing beside her—he was with her, every step of the way, and he wanted to be more than just someone she could count on in the tough moments. He wanted to build something together, something stable.
"Yeah," Don continued, swallowing the lump in his throat, his fingers still absentmindedly tracing patterns on her ankle. "I've been thinking about us living together. You know, full-time. You don't have to go through everything alone anymore, Jess. I don't want you to. You've been through enough, and I want to be there for you—in all the ways that matter."
Jess's eyes widened a bit, a flicker of surprise crossing her face. She wasn't expecting that, and it was clear from her expression that she hadn't given it much thought either. He spent all his time here anyway, so not much would change. But he had his own place—her own space, which was a comfort to her. She liked having the option to retreat into her own world when she needed to. The idea of fully merging their lives felt like a big leap, something she wasn't sure she was ready for.
She pulled her feet from his lap gently and sat up, shifting to face him more fully. Her eyes traced his face, as if looking for any sign that maybe this was just a passing idea he hadn't thought through completely.
"Don..." Her voice trailed off as she tried to process what he had said. Her mind seemed to be racing, sorting through a million things at once. She had always been fiercely independent, and the idea of merging their lives in such an intimate way was daunting. "I don't know," she muttered, looking away for a second, as if trying to gather her thoughts. "It's not that I don't want to be with you, it's just… I've always been on my own, you know? I've never really shared everything with someone else."
She paused, biting her lip as the silence stretched between them. Her thoughts were swirling—hearing his words, feeling the weight of everything they had been through together, yet something was holding her back. There was something she hadn't shared, something that had been buried deep. She had wanted to come clean about it after her conversation with Michael at Sherry's birthday, to tell Don the truth—that she couldn't have children. It had been a conversation she kept postponing, telling herself she had plenty of time before things got serious. They had enough on their plates already—facing their own demons, figuring out their lives—but then things had started to feel good again. Really good. So, she buried the truth deeper, convinced that when the time came to take the next step, she'd be ready to share it. But now, sitting here with him, the reality of their future—his proposal to live together, to build something more permanent—was bringing it all to the surface. The truth she'd been hiding felt like it was staring her right in the face.
Jess didn't feel ready to share that part of herself yet. The weight of the secret pressed on her chest, heavier than she'd ever allowed herself to admit. Could she really move in with him without telling him? The thought made her uneasy, but the truth was, she wasn't sure how to bring it up. The idea of merging their lives in such a permanent way felt daunting enough on its own, but layering this secret on top of it—she wasn't sure she could handle it.
She glanced at Don, his hopeful gaze steady and trusting, and for a moment, a quiet temptation settled over her. Could she keep this buried just a little longer? She'd managed to bury it before—shoving it down deep where it could stay hidden from view. They had come so far together, and things had been really good—better than she ever thought they could be. They'd made it through the hardest parts, and now, they were standing on the edge of something new. A future. A shared life.
Kids had never really been part of the plan for either of them, so in theory, it shouldn't matter. It shouldn't be this big thing. But still, there was this nagging voice in the back of her mind, asking if she could really start this next chapter of their lives without sharing something so important. The question gnawed at her, twisting in the pit of her stomach, but the answer—at least for now—was unclear.
She didn't want to risk complicating things. Not when things were so good. Not when she was still trying to process everything for herself. But deep down, she knew this wasn't something she could keep from him forever. Not with everything else they were building together. And yet, a part of her wasn't ready. Not yet.
Don sat up a little straighter, sensing her hesitation. He didn't want to rush her into a decision, but he could feel the weight of her thoughts, the inner conflict she was grappling with. "Jess, I'm not asking you to change everything overnight," he said gently. "I'm not asking you to give up your space or your independence. But I just… I want you to know you don't have to do this alone. You don't have to carry everything on your own anymore. I want to be with you. And if you're willing, we can build something together—something that's ours."
Jess shifted a little on the couch, her eyes searching his face for any sign of doubt. She had always been so cautious, so careful not to let herself lean on anyone too much. She had built her life around being self-sufficient, guarding herself from letting anyone too close. But there was something about Don—something she couldn't deny, no matter how hard she tried to hold back.
"I'm not sure, Don," she said quietly, her voice laced with uncertainty. "I've never lived with someone before. I've always had my own space, and I… I don't know if I'm ready to share all of that. I mean, what if I don't know how to make it work? What if it changes everything between us?"
Her words hung in the air, and for a moment, Don wasn't sure if she was leaning toward a yes or a no. But then he reached out, gently cupping her chin with his fingers, bringing her gaze back to meet his.
"You don't have to have all the answers right now," Don said softly, his voice warm and reassuring. "We can take it one step at a time. You're not alone in this, Jess. And if we decide to do this, we'll figure it out together. But I know I want to try. And I know you're worth it. I'm here for you, no matter what."
She met his eyes, feeling her heart soften. The uncertainty still lingered, but something in his words, in the way he looked at her, reassured her. She had fought so hard to get to this point in her life, to take back control of everything that had been taken from her. But maybe it wasn't all about control. Maybe it was about trusting someone enough to take the next step, even if it felt a little scary.
Jess swallowed, letting out a breath she didn't realize she had been holding. "Okay," she said, her voice a little shaky but full of warmth. "Okay, let's do it. Let's try living together."
Don's face lit up with relief, and he pulled her in for a hug, holding her close. "Thank you," he whispered into her hair, his arms tightening around her. "I promise, we'll take it slow. We'll figure it out. You won't be alone, Jess. Not now, not ever."
Jess pulled back slightly, meeting his gaze once more, her eyes shining with the beginnings of a smile. "One step at a time, right?" she said, the uncertainty still there but fading a little with each passing second.
"One step at a time," Don echoed, his voice full of reassurance and hope.
And as they sat there, Jess felt the weight in her chest lift just a little. It wasn't a perfect answer, and she didn't have it all figured out. But with Don by her side, she felt like maybe she could take this next step—slowly, carefully, but with the knowledge that she wasn't doing it alone.