Cass let the silence settle, giving Erin time to process. Then, gently, she started again.

"Did you talk about the past? About how you felt when he left?"

"No."

"About moving here and starting over?"

"No."

Cass hesitated, then finally pushed.

"About last year?"

The second the words left her lips, Erin froze. Her eyes went wide—too wide.

"NO!" It came out too fast.

Cass could see the panic in her expression.

"He can never know!" Her voice broke, breath hitching. "He just—he can't."

Cass just tilted her head slightly. "He should know."

Erin's whole body tensed. Her head shook.

"Nooo." Her voice was a plea. "You can't tell him."

"I won't. I can't. But you should."

Silence.

"Okay… okay." Cass held up a hand, showing Erin that she was backing off for now. She didn't want to push, but it wasn't making sense.

"So… how did that happen? You just started talking like no time had passed? Like nothing had changed? What did you talk about?"

"We talked about him leaving," she muttered, voice distant, like she was somewhere else.

Cass watched her carefully.

"…That's it?"

Erin nodded slowly. "Why he quit Intelligence. Why he joined the Army. Why he felt like his life was falling apart. His mission in Bolivia..." Her voice drifted. Like she was slipping away into the memory.

Cass's brow furrowed. "So you just listened to him."

Not a question.

Erin blinked.

"You took on all his problems," Cass continued. "Let him unload everything. And then he left you like this."

A long, loaded pause.

"You didn't talk about your feelings?"

No response.

"You didn't tell him how hard it's been for you?"

Erin flinched. Her eyes dropped fast to the floor.

"No…"

Barely a whisper.

Cass leaned in slightly, her voice softer now—but pointed.

"Do you think that's fair?"

Erin bit down hard on her lip. She shook her head too quickly—like she was trying to physically force the emotions down.

"I didn't—" Her breath caught. "I didn't want to put it on his shoulders." A tremor ran through her hands. "Not when he was already leaving…" She exhaled sharply. "And so sad and lost."

Cass reached out, her hand warm and grounding on Erin's arm.

"…What about you, Erin?" she asked gently. "What about your shoulders?"

Erin didn't move. Didn't blink. Just stared down.

"I don't know."

Another long pause.

"I don't know, Cass… I just miss him so much."

Dr. Cass studied Erin carefully, her voice gentle.

"You spent the whole day flirting, but you only kissed him when he was saying goodbye?"

She watched for any sign of hesitation, for something Erin wasn't saying.

Erin's gaze dropped to her hands.

"We almost kissed several times," she admitted.

"But… we always backed off. I… I backed off."

"You? Not him?" Cass asked, surprised.

"Me," she said, visibly sad.

Cass didn't look away, didn't let Erin retreat into herself. "Why? What stopped you?"

"What stopped me? You know what stopped me." Her voice was defensive. A little desperate. "He is married, Cass."

Cass raised a single eyebrow, unimpressed. "Yet, he was not the one holding back." She let the words settle, watching as Erin swallowed hard. "He is the one who is married… He came looking for you. He spent the night in your bed."

Erin flinched, just slightly. Cass saw it.

Cass's voice softened. "You weren't thinking about his marriage either when you picked up those red laces."

"I… no… I guess I wasn't…I wanted it… I wanted him so bad."

"So what changed? Why did you really hold back?"

Erin opened her mouth, then shut it again, shaking her head. She swallowed hard, then whispered, "I don't know."

Cass didn't let up. "You don't know?"

A small flicker of frustration crossed Erin's face. She exhaled sharply, shaking her head again. "I guess… I was afraid that he would regret it."

"That he would regret it?"

"I'm telling you, Cass… he seemed so lost."

"And again," Cass said, her voice gentler now, "you tried to put him first. Or at least do what you thought was best for him. Not for you. For him."

Erin's breath stuttered. "No… I…" Her voice faltered, but she didn't finish.

"Did you think about yourself at all before he said goodbye?"

"He didn't say goodbye." Erin said quickly.

Cass inhaled slowly. She knew that look—Erin was deflecting.

"He didn't?"

Erin shook her head slowly.

"I asked him not to. So he just… hugged me."

A single tear slipped down her cheek, but she didn't seem to notice.

"He just held me so tight—like he didn't want to let go."

Erin exhaled, long and slow—like the weight of that moment still hadn't left her.

"And I just… I felt so defeated. Like I failed him so badly."

Cass leaned forward slightly, her brows furrowing.

"How exactly do you think you failed him?"

Erin let out a shaky breath and ran her fingers through her hair..

She was spiraling again. Cass could see it.

"…For not being sure that he'll be okay."

"You're blaming yourself… for him not being okay?"

Erin's eyes squeezed shut—too tight. Fighting the tears that still, somehow, kept coming.

"But he said I gave him a reason to come back."

Cass stilled.

What the hell? He didn't want to come back? Cass thought, trying to understand.

She felt the weight of those words. Was he really so lost he didn't even want to survive? Slowly, carefully, she repeated, "…A reason to come back from Bolivia?"

"Yes… but he said he wants to come back now..."

She took a slow breath.

"...to me."

She smiled. A sad smile, looking away.

"That was when I couldn't hold it anymore and kissed him."

"How did you feel?"

"What do you mean how did I feel, Cass?"

"You were holding back all day…"

"I felt… alive again… I can't even describe it. God, it was just so…" she couldn't find the word to finish it.

"And he didn't pull back?"

"No… not at all… we just pulled back when we couldn't breathe anymore."

Cass's gaze softened—though concern still flickered behind it.

"What about... Hailey?"

Erin's face twisted at the mention of her name. She looked away, her hands trembling as she clasped them together tightly.

"She called right after the kiss. He didn't pick up. But he said he's going to fix it."

Cass frowned. "Fix it?" Her voice was careful, trying to hide her disbelief.

Erin nodded, her throat working against a pain.

"Yes… as in, end it…"

She swallowed hard. She wasn't sure if she totally believed it.

She couldn't meet Cass's eyes. Not yet. Because admitting it out loud made it real: she was afraid. Afraid of hoping.

Cass took a breath, watching her closely.

"And you said he is going to be away for eight months?"

Erin exhaled, her body slumping deeper into the couch.

"Eight months… to start," she whispered.

Cass barely kept herself from saying it.

To start? Fuck.

She had to bite her tongue. Instead, she inhaled slowly—steadying herself.

"…And is that what you want to do?" Cass's voice was careful, but probing. "Wait for him to come back?"

Erin didn't answer right away.

"I've been waiting for over five years…" Her voice trailed off. Like the weight of those years had finally sunk.

She looked down. Not even blinking. Because she knew—if she looked up, she would break.

Cass waited, her expression softening. "And yet, in five years, neither of you ever tried to reach out?" she asked in disbelief.

How the hell do two people love each other this much and never reach out? Cass thought, frustrated. She couldn't help but wonder if the feeling was mutual. If Jay had any idea how he had left her. Did he even care?

"I've tried everything to move on…" Erin's voice cracked slightly as she spoke. "I've tried everything to forget… you know I have… but I just can't…" Her breath hitched, and she dug the heels of her palms into her eyes, as though trying to ward off the ache building there.

"And after those 27 hours…" She sucked in a shaky breath, "I really don't think I can live without him anymore."

Cass's eyes softened, her concern growing as she watched Erin unravel in front of her. "Okay… okay…" she said, leaning forward slightly, her voice calm but firm. "But you have to take care of yourself. You can't miss your sessions, or forget to take your meds, or spend the whole day crying like this…"

"I just miss him so much…" she whispered.

"I know you do, honey," Cass said gently, reaching out to Erin's hand. "But you've come such a long way. You have to put yourself first just for once. You have to move on with your life."

Erin shook her head slowly, as if rejecting the idea. "He still hasn't called me or sent a message or anything… and I don't even know if he got my message. I was stupid enough to forget to give him my number…" She swallowed hard. "What if… what if he thinks I don't want to hear from him?—like… before…"

Cass leaned in a little, her voice reassuring but firm. "He found you here, Erin," Cass murmured, squeezing her knee. "And if he still wants to find you… he will."

Erin's gaze fell to the floor, the uncertainty creeping in. But… what if he doesn't?

"I just need to know if he is okay," she murmured. "What if I can't reach him for eight months?"

"Erin. Don't overthink it. You don't even know if he changed his phone. You can send him an email. You can reach him through social media..."

"He never really cared about social media… didn't like putting himself out there either."

Cass knew Erin wouldn't post pictures of herself online. Because of her job, but also because Camille and Hank had drilled that rule into her head.

She remembered Erin telling her that when she was 16 or 17, her friend at school used to have a webcam in her room feeding live all day long. And Camille once caught Erin showing off her underwear to the world. She was grounded like forever. But thank God, Camille never told Hank.

"Even if he's not on social media… if he wants to reach you, he will."

As soon as she said it she saw the fear in Erin's eyes. It was not only if he would find a way but mostly if he would want to reach out.

"Just give him some time to settle… He will reach out, honey." Cass was not really sure herself, but considering Erin's current state, she just wanted to comfort her. God, I really hope he does!

Cass watched Erin rub her temples. The dark circles under her eyes and her posture made it clear she needed some rest.

"When was the last time you slept, Erin?" Dr. Cass asked, her tone concerned, sensing the toll exhaustion was taking on her.

Erin swallowed, her throat tight as she struggled to answer. "With him in my bed…" she whispered.

The image of that night, of his warmth beside her, flooded her mind, and her eyes began to well with tears once more.

"Friday night?" Cass repeated, her voice tightening with disbelief. "Erin… that was two days ago."

Cass was genuinely concerned, even though Erin hadn't admitted that she had slept for just a few hours. Probably not even four hours of sleep since Friday morning when she woke up expecting to have just an ordinary day.

Erin swallowed hard, her voice barely there. "I know."

"You haven't slept at all since he left? What time did he leave?" Cass pressed gently.

Erin shook her head, her breath shuddering. "Around 8:30, last night…"

"That was over 24 hours ago… and you haven't slept?"

"I can't… I can't, Cass… I just fucking can't." And then, quieter, almost broken— "I don't know how to stop it..."

Cass sighed deeply, her heart heavy with concern. "Stop what?"

"My head… it won't stop spinning…" She looked down again. The hopelessness creeping back into her posture, as if the pain of his absence had drained her of the ability to rest.

"Look…" Dr. Cass said softly with concern. "I'm going down to my apartment to get something for you to take. You're going to sleep, and you'll call in sick tomorrow."

Erin looked up in panic. "I can't miss work, Cass…" She held the armrest of the couch tightly.

It was not about missing work. It was the fear of anyone finding out how out of control she was. The possibility of letting anyone know about her fragile state was more than she could possibly handle.

"Yes, you can, and you will," Dr. Cass replied, her tone gentle but firm, her eyes never leaving Erin's. "You're going to rest tomorrow, and you're going to put your head straight. You can't go back to work like this." She walked over and knelt in front of Erin, her hands resting lightly on her knees. "I'll stop by tomorrow to see how you're doing, and we'll talk some more… we'll go day by day."

Erin shifted uncomfortably, her eyes darting to the floor, then back up at Cass. "I don't need—" She hesitated, but forced herself to finish. "I don't need any of that, Cass."

She knew it wasn't true. And Cass knew it too.

But the instinct to just bury it all was still there, gripping her tightly.

"Yes, you do, Erin." Dr. Cass's voice was soft but firm.

"Every time you've tried to bottle up your feelings, you went off the rails. I know with your job, you feel like you have to be strong all the time and keep everything in check. But it doesn't work like that. You're allowed to have a hard time… you are allowed to need help. How many times have we talked about that?"

Erin shut her eyes as her heart tightened. Dr. Cass's words were right to the point. Countless times she had tried to shoulder everything on her own, pushing aside her emotions to appear stronger, to appear in control.

The memories rushed in—too much, too fast.

Nadia. Alvin. The grief that nearly swallowed her whole.

Jay. Chicago. Leaving, but never really escaping.

The chaos from last year, the weight of it still crushing her chest.

Even losing her puppy—so small, so unexpected.

She turned her head slightly, her voice barely a whisper.

"I didn't… I didn't deal with any of it." She ran her fingers through her hair. Her face crumpled with the fact that all that grief, all that loss, had never truly been addressed, just hidden away.

"I thought I could just keep moving. Just push forward. But I wasn't moving—I was burying it."

She swallowed hard, her breath shuddering. "And then it all… exploded, Cass." Her voice broke, thinking of the emotions she had suppressed for so long.

Cass reached out, cupping Erin's face, her thumbs brushing away the tears before they could fall.

"It's okay, honey," she whispered. "You don't have to go through this alone."

"Where's your phone?" Cass's voice was steady, no room for argument. "We're texting OA and whoever else you need. Just one day, Erin. Just breathe."

After helping Erin write the message, Cass stepped out of the apartment, the door clicking shut behind her. The second she was alone, she let out a slow, sharp breath—one she hadn't even realized she was holding. She walked into the elevator, hit the button for the 14th floor, and leaned against the mirrored wall.

The doors slid shut with a soft ding. And then?

Then, she seethed.

Her hands clenched into fists. Her jaw tightening so hard it ached.

Jay fucking Halstead.

The name made her stomach turn.

He has no idea—no fucking idea—what he has just done to Erin.

She could still hear Erin's voice, wrecked and fragile. "I really don't think I can live without him anymore."

And where is Jay?

Off in Bolivia.

Bolivia!

Cass scoffed bitterly, pressing her fingers into her temples, trying to curb the pounding headache forming there. Unbelievable. Absolutely fucking unbelievable.

Jay had just barged back into Erin's life after five years of radio silence, shattered her defenses in less than 27 hours, and then just—left.

Again.

What kind of man does that?

You think she can survive this twice? Really, Jay?

Cass gritted her teeth as the elevator hummed downward. Her grip tightening around the railing. Erin was barely holding herself together, barely breathing through the devastation Jay had left. She was drowning in grief and exhaustion, spiraling all over again.

And Jay?

Jay dumped his entire goddamn mess on her and walked away.

Like he hadn't already ripped her apart once.

Her nails dug into her palm as a deep, frustrated exhale hissed through her teeth.

You couldn't stay? You couldn't give her a second to breathe? A second to catch up with the fact that the love of her goddamn life was standing in front of her again?

Cass nearly laughed, a bitter, incredulous sound clawing at her throat.

No, of course not.

Because Jay Halstead doesn't fix things.

He runs.

He leaves people in pieces and calls it finding himself.

The elevator doors slid open. Cass stepped out and walked briskly toward her apartment, anger simmering just below the surface.

Erin had been doing so well. She had fought like hell to rebuild herself from the ground up. And now? Now, she was back to square fucking one—crying in her apartment, lost, waiting for a man who had never once stayed when she needed him.

Cass yanked open her cabinet, grabbed the medication bottle, and slammed the door shut harder than necessary.

Her patience was slipping.

She was furious.

Furious at him. Furious at the way Erin still loved him, still waited for him. Furious that Jay had all the power in this situation and didn't even realize it.

Or worse?

Maybe he did realize it.

Maybe he knew exactly what he was doing to Erin.

And maybe—just maybe—he didn't care enough to stop.

Cass's jaw locked.

Oh, she was so fucking done.

He knows.

He knows exactly what he's doing.

He walked into Erin's life, lit everything on fire, made her fall in love with him all over again, and then? Then, he left. Again.

And the worst part? He let her think she had to be the one waiting.

He gave her just enough hope to keep her on the hook.

Her nails dug into her palm, rage thrumming through her.

"If you don't come back, Halstead," she muttered under her breath, voice low and sharp, "I swear to God, I'll find you myself."

And then?

Then, she'd make sure he never got close enough to do this to Erin ever again.

Cass's thoughts tumbled over themselves as she stepped into the elevator again, heading back up to Erin's floor.

Okay. Breathe. She doesn't need me like this.

She hurried to the kitchen, holding the small bottle of pills she had brought back from her apartment. She wasn't going to let Erin go without the medication she needed tonight, even if she had to force it down her throat.

Erin was going to take the damn medication, sleep, and not waste another second falling apart over Jay Halstead. Not tonight.

She filled a glass of water for Erin, her hands slightly shaky—but ended up drinking it herself instead. She needed to calm herself down. She took a deep breath. Yeah. That's it. Better.

She got a second glass of water and walked back to the couch where Erin was still sitting, wrapped in her blanket like a small, lost child.

"Here," Dr. Cass said gently, her voice soft as she handed Erin the water and the pill. "You need to drink this and take this."

Erin sighed, rolling her eyes slightly before finally taking the damn pill. Cass gave a small, relieved nod before sitting back.

"Good," Cass murmured. She could tell Erin was exhausted, physically and emotionally drained from the day. "You need to rest tonight, Erin. And when you wake up, I'll be here to help you through this. Just… please, let yourself sleep."

Erin nodded weakly, her eyes red and tired, still too full of raw emotion to speak. Dr. Cass could see the fear in her eyes, the uncertainty, and the way she seemed to shrink back from everything that was still so unresolved in her life. She hated seeing her this way.

"I'll come back in the morning," Dr. Cass continued, her hand brushing Erin's hair back gently. "But I'm serious, Erin. If you wake up in the middle of the night and need someone, call me right away. I'm only a few floors down."

Erin's lips parted, but the words she wanted to say seemed stuck in her throat. She nodded, closing her eyes.

Dr. Cass stayed for a moment longer, watching Erin slowly sink into her bed, exhaustion finally taking over. Once her breathing had evened out and Dr. Cass was sure that she was asleep, she quietly moved to the kitchen.

She filled Erin's pillbox, organizing her medications and vitamins for the week ahead.

She just had to trust that Erin would get through this, but her mind kept racing back to Jay—back to how he had left her in this mess to clean up.

She wasn't sure if he even realized the mess he made. Or if he was just as lost and broken as Erin was.

With a heavy sigh, she closed the pillbox and tucked it away on the counter. She couldn't fix everything for Erin, but she would help her get through this, piece by piece.

She gave Erin one last look before quietly slipping out of the apartment.

Tomorrow, they would talk more. Tomorrow, they would take another step forward.

She just hoped that Erin wouldn't fall apart before finding her way through it.

A/N: Are we a little upset with Jay by now? Maybe it's a good time to see how he's doing next… ;-)