Chapter 23
The day before Jay's big game, everything was hectic, yet there was a quiet between them that spoke volumes. He had a flight to catch later that afternoon, and although he'd be gone for only a couple of days, the thought of being apart from Erin already felt heavier than it should.
They woke up together, tangled in the sheets, the morning light creeping through the blinds, painting soft stripes of gold across their skin. Erin had rolled over in her sleep to find Jay's arm around her, and it felt right, like it always did when he was near. She breathed in his scent, the warmth of him a comforting constant.
But as the seconds ticked by, a gnawing feeling settled in her chest, and it didn't quite make sense. He wasn't leaving for long—just two days—but the thought of him being away already had a pit forming in her stomach.
Jay didn't notice at first. He was too busy savoring the moment, the quiet of their time together before his world flipped upside down with pre-game nerves. He smiled down at her, brushing a lock of hair out of her face as she shifted beneath him, her hand running lightly across his chest.
"You okay, babe?" he asked softly, his voice still laced with sleep.
Erin didn't respond immediately. She just kept her eyes locked on his, watching him with an intensity that surprised her. She wanted to say something, but the words caught in her throat. Part of her hated that she was already feeling the ache of missing him when he hadn't even left yet.
Jay seemed to sense the shift in the air, the quiet weight of her thoughts pressing down between them. His eyes softened as he brushed his thumb across her cheek. "I'm not even gone yet, and I can tell you're already going to miss me."
A laugh slipped from Erin's lips, but it was tinged with something that wasn't entirely amusement. "It's silly, I know. You're only going for two days. It's nothing."
"It's not nothing," Jay replied, his tone gentle but understanding. He leaned down to kiss the top of her head, his lips lingering there. "I know you don't like it when we're apart. I don't like it either."
Erin let her head rest against his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breath beneath her. "It's just… I don't know. I already feel this weird pit in my stomach, like I'm not going to see you for ages, even though I know it's just a couple of days. I guess I'm not good at this whole being apart thing."
Jay chuckled, his hand lightly rubbing her back. "You know I'll be back before you know it, right? It's not even going to feel like I'm gone. And you'll be so busy with your book stuff that time will fly."
She smiled faintly, appreciating his optimism. "I know. But it's hard not to think about it. I'll miss you more than you know."
Jay paused, as if thinking for a moment, then kissed her forehead, soft and tender. "I'll miss you too. You've got nothing to worry about, Erin. I'm always thinking about you."
She smiled, but the weight in her chest didn't lift entirely. "I just wish you didn't have to leave."
"I know, babe," he murmured, pulling her closer. "I don't like it either. But we'll have the whole weekend when I get back. Promise."
Erin nodded but couldn't shake the feeling of the emptiness that seemed to seep into her bones, the thought of him being out there on the road, away from her. As much as she understood it was part of his life, a part of her still didn't want to let go, didn't want to let him slip through her fingers, even for just a couple of days.
"I just really don't want you to go," she whispered, her voice barely above a breath. "I'm already missing you, and you haven't even left yet."
Jay's heart swelled at the sincerity in her words, the vulnerability she so easily shared with him. He wasn't used to feeling this way, but every part of him knew she was the one he wanted beside him. He wasn't great with goodbyes, especially when it came to Erin.
"Trust me, babe, I'm not a fan of leaving you either. But this is just a quick trip, and I'll be back before you know it. It's us against the world, right?"
Erin couldn't help but smile at that, the words that had become their quiet reassurance between them. "Yeah. Us against the world."
Jay pressed a kiss to her temple and then to her lips, this time longer, deeper, a promise in the touch. "You're all I need to keep my head in the game, you know that? Just think about me, and it'll be like I'm right here with you."
"I'll think about you all the time," Erin whispered, her fingers lightly tracing his jawline. "I always do."
He gave her a soft smile, then shifted off the bed to start gathering his things. Erin lay there, watching him, trying to push aside the feeling of longing already taking root inside her.
The morning had slipped into the quiet that only came when someone was about to leave. Jay's hands were already on the doorknob, his suitcase rolling softly across the hardwood floor, the sound almost like a signal that time was running out. Erin stood near the kitchen counter, her arms crossed in front of her as she watched him, trying to keep her thoughts from spilling over. It was just two days. Two days. But somehow, that felt like an eternity now, especially when he'd never been gone for so long since they started dating.
Jay looked at her, his expression softer than she'd expected. His eyes, warm and focused, searched hers, and for a moment, the world seemed to pause between them. He didn't like leaving. She could see it in the way his jaw tightened, in the way his lips barely moved when he spoke.
"I don't like leaving, you know that?" His voice was low, almost like he didn't want to admit it, like it was some weakness to him. But there it was, the truth lingering between them.
She swallowed hard, trying to keep the tightness in her chest from overwhelming her. She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "I'll be fine," she said, the words coming out more strained than she meant. She was trying to be brave for him, but there was this gnawing feeling in her stomach that wouldn't go away. It was a pit, and the more she tried to ignore it, the deeper it felt.
Jay took a few steps closer, and his fingers brushed lightly against the side of her face, sending a soft shiver through her. "I know you will, babe." His thumb caressed her cheek, his touch warm and tender, like he wanted to hold onto this moment longer. "But with everything going on with your mom and your dad trying to figure this out…" He trailed off, his gaze dropping to her lips, like he was holding back something he couldn't say. "I need you to text me if he finds anything, okay? I don't care if it's in the middle of the night. I just need to know."
Erin's heart skipped at his words, the care in his tone echoing in her chest. He cared. Not just about her, but about her life. About everything that was happening. She nodded, the heaviness in her chest tightening just a little more. "I will," she promised, though her voice trembled slightly.
Jay didn't pull away. Instead, he leaned down, his forehead resting gently against hers. His breath was warm against her skin, and Erin closed her eyes for a brief second, soaking in the warmth of him. She wished she didn't have to let go.
"I mean it, Erin," he said quietly. "You're not alone in this. I don't care if I'm halfway across the country—I'm here. You don't have to go through this alone."
Tears stung the corners of her eyes at the sincerity in his words. She could feel his hands on her, his heart in everything he said. It was a strange, beautiful feeling, to be so cared for. To be loved like this. She leaned into him more, pressing a soft kiss to his chest, her hands curling into the fabric of his shirt. "I know," she whispered. "I know you're here."
The silence between them was comforting, even if it felt heavy. She wanted to believe everything he said, to trust that their bond could withstand any distance. She wanted to believe that nothing—nothing—could tear them apart.
But the pit in her stomach didn't go away. It only seemed to deepen the longer they stood there.
Jay pulled back after a moment, his hands still resting gently on her shoulders. He gave her a small, reassuring smile, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "I'll miss you," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "But I'll be back before you know it."
"I'll miss you too," Erin murmured, her voice barely a whisper. Her chest felt tight, and the words came out heavier than she intended. She wanted to say more, to tell him that she wasn't ready for him to go, but the words got stuck in her throat.
It was just two days. She could handle two days.
Jay walked to the door, then stopped, turning to face her one last time. He walked back to her and kissed her softly on the forehead, like he didn't want to leave an inch of space between them. "I'll text you when I get there. You take care of yourself, Erin. And remember—anything. You tell me. You call me. You need me? I'll be there."
"I will," she promised, trying to swallow the lump in her throat.
With one last lingering glance, he walked out the door, and Erin stayed rooted in place, staring at the empty space he left behind. The quiet that filled the apartment after he left was deafening, and the emptiness felt even more suffocating. It was just two days, but it felt like longer.
Erin closed her eyes, feeling the weight of the world on her shoulders. She had known that Jay's career would mean time apart, but now, with everything going on in her life, it felt harder. There was something about this distance that unsettled her in a way she hadn't expected.
She could still feel the warmth of his touch, the way his hands had felt on her skin, but it was quickly fading now that the door was closed. A wave of doubt hit her, the old fears creeping back into her mind. She trusted him, she did, but… what if this time was different?
What if being apart would make him forget the little things—the good morning texts, the late-night conversations, the way he'd hold her until she fell asleep? What if he slipped back into his old habits? The ones that had kept him from anything lasting. What if the fame, the distractions of the road, the women—what if that made him forget her?
The fear was irrational. She knew it was. Jay had never given her a reason to doubt him. But in the silence of the apartment, with nothing but the sound of her own breath filling the space, the fear was all-consuming. She grabbed her phone, opening a message she'd started to send earlier, but stopped before she could finish it. She typed and erased a few words, finally deciding to send something simple. I miss you already.
Her finger hovered over the send button for a moment before she hit it, the words out of her control. She couldn't help it. It was like she needed him to know how much she already felt his absence.
Minutes ticked by without a reply, and the pit in her stomach only deepened. The quiet of the apartment was suffocating, the air too thick with her thoughts, her insecurities.
As the minutes turned into hours, Erin found herself staring at her phone, hoping for a message that would somehow soothe the ache in her chest. She had to believe in them, in what they had. She had to trust him. She had to trust this.
But for now, all she could do was wait, counting down the hours until he was back, hoping that the gnawing feeling inside her would be gone by the time she saw him again.
And as she sat there, waiting, the fear still lingered.
As the day stretched on, the emptiness in Erin's apartment seemed to grow. She found herself moving aimlessly from one room to the next, her mind unable to settle on anything. She tried to distract herself—catching up on emails, making coffee, flipping through a book—but it all felt hollow. Her thoughts kept drifting back to Jay, the way his warm hands had held her so carefully, like he was afraid if he let go, she'd slip away. The memory of his voice telling her not to worry echoed in her head, but the knot in her stomach refused to loosen.
She texted Kim, hoping to take her mind off things, but the message felt robotic. The words didn't seem to have the usual ease or comfort she found in their conversations. It was as if, without Jay beside her, nothing felt right.
By the time the afternoon rolled around, Erin couldn't ignore the growing weight of uncertainty any longer. She hadn't heard from him since he left, not a word, and while she knew he had to focus on his game, the silence gnawed at her. I'm being ridiculous, she thought. It's only two days. But it didn't stop her mind from spiraling.
She had thought about calling her dad for a check-in, but Hank had enough on his plate with the investigation into Bunny. And truth be told, she didn't want to burden him more. Not now. Not when she was feeling so out of sorts herself.
At 5:30 p.m., she felt her phone buzz.
A text from Jay.
Hey babe, how's your day going?
Her heart skipped, and a wave of relief washed over her. She tapped her reply quickly, trying to sound upbeat despite the heaviness in her chest.
It's going okay. Missing you though. How's everything on your end?
It didn't take long for him to respond.
I miss you too. Just got here, team's doing their prep. How's everything with your mom?
The small talk felt grounding, comforting even. She felt herself start to relax, just a little, knowing that he hadn't forgotten about her even in the rush of everything.
Dad's looking into things, and he's keeping me updated. Trying not to let it get to me.
Good. You're strong, Erin. Just don't forget to breathe. You got this, and I've got you.
It was such a simple message, but in that moment, it felt like everything. Erin closed her eyes for a second, imagining him on the other end, the way his words always had a way of making her feel safe, even when there was so much uncertainty surrounding them.
She sat down on the couch, taking in the quiet. The buzzing of her phone brought her back.
Have you eaten?
She chuckled softly, realizing how quickly she'd missed his little check-ins.
Not yet. Thinking of making some pasta.
Don't overdo it, babe. And if you need me to cook, you know I'm just a phone call away.
She smiled at his usual confidence, her fingers hovering over the keyboard.
You're a bad influence, you know that? she teased.
I know. But I'm your bad influence, came his reply, followed by a string of playful emojis.
The back-and-forth was easy. It was like a lifeline thrown across the distance that had settled between them.
Still, the silence between them remained a looming presence. It was their first time apart as a couple, and Erin couldn't help but feel a pang of doubt, a fear that her anxieties might be bigger than the reality of their relationship. She had nothing to base those worries on, nothing that suggested he'd turn back into the person he used to be. He'd been so patient with her, so understanding. But the fear—the nagging fear—was still there.
Around 9 p.m., when the day was winding down, Erin heard her phone buzz again. Jay had sent a voice note this time.
Hey, he began, his voice lower than usual, soft but earnest. I know you're probably feeling a little weird about me being away. I get it. But just know I'm thinking about you.
The simple vulnerability in his voice made her chest ache. She closed her eyes, feeling the tears that had been hovering just below the surface threaten to spill over.
He didn't need to reassure her—he had done that more times than she could count already. But the truth of his words, the steady weight of them, settled into her heart, grounding her in ways nothing else had been able to.
She responded, her fingers trembling slightly as she typed.
I'm trying not to let it get to me, Jay. I really am. Her voice cracked slightly when she hit send, but she didn't delete the message. She couldn't pretend she was okay when she wasn't.
It wasn't long before he replied, a string of words that felt like a hug, even from miles away. I know. But if you need me, just let me know. I'm not going anywhere.
And that was the thing, wasn't it? He wasn't going anywhere, even if he was physically far away. In the smallness of those few words, Erin felt the connection between them only grow stronger. No distance, no amount of time, could change what they had.
She put her phone down for the night, her mind still racing with thoughts of Jay.
Even if the fear wasn't completely gone, she knew one thing for sure: he was hers, and she was his. And that was enough—for now.
As the night stretched on and the silence surrounded her again, Erin allowed herself to drift to sleep, a little easier than before, her mind comforted by the steady rhythm of his words, and the certainty that they would find their way back to each other, no matter how long the distance was.
It would always be them.
The next morning, Erin woke up feeling restless. It had been almost a full day since Jay left, and even though she knew it wasn't a big deal, there was this annoying pit in her stomach that she just couldn't shake.
She had spent the morning trying to distract herself with writing, but her mind kept drifting back to him.
It was stupid, really—he was only gone for a couple of days, and they were still texting. But this was the first time they'd been apart since getting together, and something about it felt… different.
She brushed the thought aside as she got ready for the meeting about The Light Within's adaptation. She wanted to be excited about it—this was supposed to be huge, after all. Her book being turned into a movie was a dream come true. But something gnawed at her, a gut feeling that this meeting wasn't going to go how she wanted.
And she was right.
The office where the meeting was held was in one of those modern high-rise buildings downtown, sleek and intimidating. Erin walked in, dressed professionally but casual—she wasn't the type to wear a power suit, and she sure as hell wasn't going to start now. But the second she stepped into the conference room and laid eyes on him, she knew this wasn't going to be a smooth ride.
Steven Parker, one of the aspiring directors man in his mid-fourties, with wavy hair and thick glasses . He wore a wrinkled button-down and a blazer that had seen better days, as if he'd just rolled out of bed and thrown on whatever was closest. He was slouched in his chair when she arrived, barely looking up from his phone before giving her a half-assed nod.
"You're Erin Lindsay, I assume," he muttered, his voice bored.
Erin arched an eyebrow but sat down, trying to stay professional. "I am. It's nice to meet you."
Steven didn't bother shaking her hand. Instead, he waved vaguely at the seat in front of him. "Yeah, sure. Have a seat."
Okay. Red flag number one.
She tried to brush it off. Maybe he was just a little too laid-back—Hollywood types weren't exactly known for their warmth.
"So, The Light Within," he said, finally glancing up at her. "I gotta say, it's got potential. Really does. But obviously, we'll need to tweak a few things."
Erin crossed her legs, already feeling the familiar sense of defensiveness creeping in. "I'm open to changes, as long as they don't take away from the heart of the story."
Steven let out a small laugh, shaking his head. "See, that's the thing. The heart of the story—it's good, but it's a little… how do I put this? Too deep. Too much introspection. We want something more exciting, you know? Something that sells."
Red flag number two.
Erin tilted her head, keeping her voice calm but firm. "The introspection is what makes it The Light Within. It's a story about healing, about finding strength within yourself. That's why people connect to it."
He shrugged, looking wholly uninterested. "Yeah, yeah, I get that. But let's be real. Introspection doesn't always translate well on screen. We need more—action. Drama. Romance that really pops. Maybe some tension between the love interests, you know? Something that keeps audiences on edge."
Erin clenched her jaw. "The romance is a subplot, not the main story. It's about the protagonist's journey, her struggles, and how she overcomes them."
Steven hummed like he wasn't really listening. Then, to make things worse, he leaned back in his chair, giving her a slow once-over that sent a shiver of discomfort down her spine.
"You're a pretty face. Have you ever considered doing a cameo?" he asked, smirking.
Red flag number three, and officially the last damn straw.
Erin's entire body went stiff. She had dealt with plenty of condescending men in her life—especially when she was younger—but something about the casual way he said it, like he wasn't even trying to hide how little he respected her, made her blood boil.
She didn't let it show. Instead, she smiled tightly. "I'm a writer, not an actress. I'd rather focus on making sure the story is told the right way."
Steven shrugged like he didn't care. "Suit yourself. We'll be in touch I guess."
That was it. That was the end of the meeting. No handshake, no real discussion—just We'll be in touch, as if she wasn't the damn author of the book they were adapting.
She walked out of that office feeling like she had just wasted her time.
And honestly? If this was the guy they were choosing to direct her movie, she wasn't so sure she wanted it to happen anymore.
By the time Erin pulled up to her dad's house, she was still fuming. But the second she stepped inside, the familiar scent of home-cooked food and the sound of laughter made some of that tension melt away.
Justin was there, sitting at the kitchen table with Olive while Danny played on the floor with some toy cars. Hank was at the stove, stirring something in a pot, looking like he had been waiting for her.
"Well, look who finally decided to show up," Justin teased, grinning as he stood up to hug her.
Erin hugged him tightly, taking a moment to breathe him in. It had been way too long since she'd seen him.
"Shut up," she muttered against his shoulder before pulling back. "It's not my fault you live in D.C."
Olive smiled warmly at her. "He's been talking about this dinner all week. You'd think he doesn't see us enough."
Justin rolled his eyes. "I don't! And now I've got both of you ganging up on me."
Hank turned from the stove, eyeing Erin carefully. "You good, kid?"
She hesitated, debating whether to tell him about the meeting. But she didn't want to ruin the night, so she just forced a small smile. "I'm fine. Just a long day."
Hank didn't look convinced, but he let it slide. "Well, sit down. We're eating soon."
Dinner was exactly what she needed. The four of them talked and laughed like old times, and Erin found herself slowly unwinding. Danny, in his usual adorable way, kept demanding attention, and Erin was more than happy to play along.
For a little while, she forgot about the director, about the feeling in her stomach when she thought about Jay being away.
She was just home.
And when she finally pulled out her phone later that night and saw a message from Jay—Miss you, babe. Wish I was there with you—the weight on her chest lightened just a little bit more.
As dinner wound down, Erin helped Olive clear the plates while Justin wrangled Danny into getting ready for bed. It felt good—normal, even. Like the chaos of the past few weeks hadn't been looming over her.
She was just about to pour herself another glass of wine when her dad cleared his throat.
"Hey, kid. Got a minute?"
She looked up at him, immediately recognizing the tone in his voice. Serious, but not urgent. He wanted to talk. Alone.
Nodding, she followed him out to the back porch, where the night air was crisp but not too cold. She wrapped her arms around herself as she leaned against the railing, waiting for him to speak.
Hank exhaled, running a hand over his jaw before finally meeting her eyes. "We found her."
Erin's breath hitched. "Bunny?"
"Yeah." He nodded, watching her reaction carefully. "She left the city. Took off a couple of days ago. Looks like she's in Indianapolis now."
She blinked, letting the information settle in. Bunny was gone. Just like that.
"And you're sure she's not coming back?" Erin asked, her voice quieter than she intended.
Hank's jaw tightened slightly. "Nothing's ever a hundred percent with her, but from what I gathered, she doesn't have a reason to stick around. No money left, no connections. She's moving on to the next place."
Erin let out a slow breath, trying to gauge what she felt. Relief? Maybe. But also a strange sort of emptiness. Not because she missed Bunny—God, no—but because some part of her had been bracing for something worse. A fight. A confrontation.
Instead, Bunny had done what she always did. Ran.
Hank must have noticed the way she was lost in thought because his voice softened. "You don't have to worry about her anymore, kid."
Erin nodded, but she didn't respond right away. It wasn't that easy—not with Bunny.
After a moment, she glanced at him. "Thank you, Dad. For handling it."
He nodded, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder. "Always."
And just like that, it felt a little easier to breathe.
Inside, the house had settled into a quiet hum. The kind that only came when a long day was winding down. Olive was finishing up in the kitchen, and Hank had settled into his usual chair, flipping through the channels with little interest.
Justin, however, was lingering by the stairs, arms crossed as he gave Erin a pointed look.
"You gonna help me with bedtime, or are you too famous for that now?"
Erin rolled her eyes but smirked, nudging him as she passed. "Shut up. Where's the little troublemaker?"
Justin smirked back, leading her upstairs to Danny's room, where the four-year-old was already curled up under his dinosaur comforter, rubbing his eyes sleepily.
"Hey, bud," Erin whispered, sitting on the edge of his bed. "You tired?"
Danny shook his head, but his droopy eyelids told a different story.
She smiled softly, brushing a hand over his hair. "Want me to sing to you?"
Danny gave a slow, tiny nod, and Erin didn't hesitate. It was something she used to do when he was younger—back when Justin was away more often and Olive needed the extra hands.
So, she started humming, her voice barely above a whisper, something soft and familiar. Danny relaxed almost immediately, his little body sinking into the mattress.
Justin leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching the scene with a fond look. He didn't say anything until Danny's breathing evened out, the little boy completely out for the night.
When Erin finally stood up, pulling the blanket higher over him, Justin grinned. "Still got it, huh?"
She smirked, leading the way out of the room, making sure to leave the door cracked just enough. "I've always been his favorite, don't lie."
Justin chuckled, following her down the hall. "Yeah, yeah. Keep telling yourself that."
They made their way back downstairs, but instead of heading to the living room, Justin stopped in the kitchen, grabbing a couple of beers from the fridge before tossing one her way. Erin caught it easily, raising an eyebrow.
"You wanna talk," she guessed, twisting the cap off.
Justin shrugged. "Maybe." He took a sip before glancing at her. "I just feel like I haven't seen you in forever. You're always busy now."
Erin sighed, leaning against the counter. "Yeah, well. Life's been… a lot."
Justin nodded, studying her. "Dad told me about Bunny."
She let out a breath. "Figures."
"He just wants you to be okay."
"I am okay," she said, and for once, she almost believed it.
Justin tilted his head, unconvinced. "And Jay?"
The mention of his name caught her off guard. "What about him?"
Justin smirked. "I mean, I knew you two were a thing, but Dad made it seem official official."
Erin rolled her eyes but felt the warmth creeping up her neck anyway. "We've been together for a month and a half now," she admitted.
"Damn." Justin let out a low whistle. "Never thought I'd see the day."
Erin narrowed her eyes playfully. "Excuse me?"
Justin grinned. "You know what I mean. You always kept your guard up. I just figured… I don't know, maybe you'd never actually let someone in like that."
She paused, his words settling in.
She had let Jay in. Completely. And it scared the hell out of her sometimes.
But it also felt right.
"I'm happy," she admitted, her voice softer. "He makes me happy."
Justin studied her for a moment, then nodded approvingly. "Good. Because if he screws up, I will be making a trip back to Chicago just to kick his ass."
Erin smirked. "Noted."
Erin took a slow sip of her beer, rolling the bottle between her hands as she leaned against the counter. Her mind had been running in circles all day, but now, with the house quiet and Justin standing there, it felt like the right time to say it out loud.
"How do you do it?" she asked suddenly, looking at her brother.
Justin frowned slightly. "Do what?"
"Be away from Olive and Danny so much," she admitted, exhaling. "I mean, you love them, you miss them, obviously, but—how do you handle it?"
Justin let out a small breath, leaning back against the counter next to her. He looked down at the bottle in his hands, thinking. "It's not easy," he admitted. "Hell, some days, it sucks. I hate missing things. Danny's first steps, his first real words. Even the little stuff, like bedtime stories or just being there for Olive when she's had a bad day."
Erin nodded, her throat tight.
"But at some point," Justin continued, "you learn to live with it. You find ways to make the distance feel smaller. Calls, FaceTime, messages at random hours just to remind them you're thinking of them. And you hold onto the fact that every time you do come home, it matters."
She swallowed hard, looking down at her bottle. "It's only been a day," she muttered. "And I already feel like I'm going crazy."
Justin let out a low chuckle. "Well, it's new for you. It's the first time you and Jay have been apart since making it official, right?"
She nodded.
"So yeah, it's gonna feel weird at first," Justin said. "Especially because you two are still in that stage where you want to be around each other all the time."
"Yeah." Erin huffed a small laugh, shaking her head. "It's stupid. I mean, he's literally just gone for a couple of days, and I trust him, but—" She hesitated.
"But it's still hard," Justin finished for her.
She nodded again, pressing her lips together.
Justin nudged her lightly. "You'll figure it out. You just have to remind yourself that he's probably feeling the same way."
And before Erin could even respond, her phone buzzed on the counter between them, Jay's name lighting up the screen.
Justin smirked knowingly. "Speak of the devil."
Erin rolled her eyes but couldn't fight the way her stomach flipped just seeing his name. She grabbed the phone quickly, swiping to answer as she pushed off the counter and walked a few steps away.
"Hey," she greeted, her voice automatically softer.
"Hey," Jay said, and damn, just hearing his voice made her chest ache a little. "What are you up to?"
"Not much," she admitted. "Just hanging out at my dad's. Had dinner with Justin and Olive."
"Yeah? How was it?"
She smiled slightly, glancing back at Justin, who was still watching her with an amused expression. She turned away, lowering her voice. "Good. Missed them."
Jay hummed in understanding. "Miss you."
Her throat tightened again.
"It's only been a day," she tried to joke, but her voice came out softer than intended.
Jay chuckled, but there was something equally quiet about it. "I know. It's weird, though."
She exhaled, closing her eyes for a second. "Yeah," she admitted. "It is.Aren't you supposed to go on the field,like right now?"
Jay huffed a small laugh. "Yeah, Antonio's already glaring at me."
Erin smiled at that, picturing Jay standing somewhere near the field, probably in his practice gear, his hair slightly damp from warming up, a football tucked under his arm while his manager shot him a death stare.
"Should I be honored that you're risking his wrath just to call me?" she teased.
"Oh, definitely," Jay said without hesitation. "Might even get an earful for it later, but totally worth it."
Her chest warmed at that, and for a moment, she let herself just feel it—the way he made her feel, the way he called even when he had a million other things to focus on, the way he never made her doubt for a second that she was important to him.
"Go, Halstead," she said softly, letting herself lean into it. "Win one for me."
Jay's voice was just as quiet, just as warm. "Always, babe."
And just like that, the pit in her stomach didn't feel quite so heavy anymore.
The sound of the game filled the living room, the Bears' colors shining bright on the screen as Hank, Olive, and Justin settled in on the couch. It had been a while since they all gathered like this, the warmth of family and the excitement of a game filling the space.
The atmosphere was familiar, comforting, but there was a subtle shift now. It was the first time Erin was watching the game with them since Jay and her had made things official. There was something different in the air, something softer, something that felt more like home.
Erin leaned back into the couch, her legs tucked beneath her, a quiet sense of longing filling her as she watched Jay on the field. He looked good out there—focused, commanding, and undeniably in his element. The game was going well, and the crowd's energy was electric, but her mind kept drifting back to him. His smile, his laugh, the way he made her feel safe even from miles away.
"You look lost in thought there, kiddo," Justin teased, leaning back in his seat with a grin, his eyes flickering between Erin and the screen. He'd caught her zoning out again.
Erin chuckled, shaking her head. "Sorry, just… thinking about how I'd love to bring you guys to one of Jay's games. Maybe even Danny when he's a little older."
Hank shot her a knowing look, his usual stoic demeanor softening at the mention of his grandson. "That'd be something," he said, his tone warm but full of pride. "We'd all be there, cheering him on just like we've done for the Bears for years."
Olive nodded in agreement, her smile more relaxed than Erin had seen it in a while. "I think Danny would love it," she said, glancing back toward the hallway where the little boy was already tucked into bed, sound asleep. "He's growing up so fast, but it'll be nice when he's old enough to get into the games."
Erin smiled at the thought. The idea of having her family, her dad and brother, there at one of Jay's games seemed like something from a dream. It was surreal but beautiful at the same time. After everything—after the years of uncertainty and mess with Bunny, after the tension with her family—this felt like a new chapter. She could see it clearly: the four of them, cheering for Jay from the stands, laughing, sharing a moment of something good.
"That's the dream, huh?" she murmured, more to herself than anyone else. "All of us together."
Justin snorted lightly. "It sounds pretty damn good to me," he said, his voice teasing but laced with sincerity. "Plus, I'll finally get to meet your guy properly, right?"
Hank's brow furrowed as he turned his attention to Erin, his eyes narrowing just a little. "You know," he began, his tone light but a bit too pointed for Erin's liking, "there's one thing about him I still don't know for sure."
"Dad," Erin groaned, her cheeks flushing slightly. She didn't need to hear any more about Jay's "proper introduction" from her father.
"Hey, I'm just saying, we still haven't had that 'official' talk," Hank teased, a playful glint in his eye.
Erin let out a frustrated but amused sigh, crossing her arms. "Well, it's not exactly a 'talk' kind of situation, Dad," she said, trying to play it cool. "I'm just… happy, alright?"
Her dad raised an eyebrow but said nothing further. Olive leaned forward and patted Erin's knee gently, her voice soft and understanding. "You deserve to be happy, Erin. I think we can all see that. Just take it one step at a time."
As the game continued in the background, Erin found herself laughing with her family, the tension from the past few days slipping away. For the first time in a long while, everything felt right. And as she watched Jay on the field, her heart swelling with a quiet certainty, she knew that this was just the beginning of something real, something she didn't need to second-guess anymore.
Erin closed the door behind her, letting out a long sigh as she glanced at the empty space in the hallway. She had just said her goodbyes to Justin, wishing him well as he went to spend time with Olive and Danny. The house felt quieter without them, and her mind couldn't help but wander to the thought of Jay, and the fact that they'd be apart for a couple of days. The distance felt heavy, unfamiliar.
As she kicked off her shoes and walked into the living room, she settled on the couch, absently scrolling through her phone. The silence was almost too much to bear, and just as she was about to text Jay, her phone buzzed. She didn't even need to look at the screen to know who it was.
"Hey," she answered, her voice light despite the flutter of nerves that hit her.
Jay's voice came through, cheerful and warm, with the unmistakable excitement of a post-game win. "Hey, babe! We did it! I can't wait to see you when I get back."
Erin smiled at the enthusiasm in his voice. "I saw the game," she said. "You were incredible out there."
"Thanks," he replied, a little quieter now, but still with a layer of pride. "I'm heading out to celebrate with the guys, but I just had to call you first. Can't wait to see you later."
Erin froze for a moment. Celebrate with the guys? Her stomach dropped slightly as the thoughts she'd been trying to push aside crept back in. The way his lifestyle worked—always surrounded by people, always on the move, always going from one party to the next.
She knew that, of course. She'd seen it before with other relationships, the carefree nights out, the late hours, and the distance that started to grow. Was this the same thing? Was it just fun for him?
But she couldn't let him hear that, not now. Not when he was so excited. She swallowed hard and forced a smile into her voice.
"Of course," she said, her tone breezy, casual. "Go have fun, you deserve it."
There was a slight pause on the other end. Jay chuckled, the sound warm and familiar. "I'll see you soon, babe. I miss you."
Erin's heart fluttered at the words, a warmth spreading through her chest. She could hear the sincerity in his voice, but the nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach didn't go away.
"I miss you too," she said softly, even as the doubts lingered. "Go celebrate."
After a few more words, they ended the call. Erin held the phone in her hand for a moment longer, her thoughts racing. It was only a couple of days, but it felt like so much more.
What did it mean for them, really? She tried to brush the thought away—he'd never given her a reason to doubt him, but sometimes her insecurities got the best of her. She couldn't help but wonder if she was just getting in her own head about it all.
She sat there for a long moment, the silence of the room suddenly overwhelming. Then she stood up, walked to the window, and looked out at the night sky. This wasn't a game. This wasn't like before, when she'd been cautious about relationships. They were past that, right? She just had to believe it.
With a heavy sigh, Erin settled back into the couch, knowing that despite the questions swirling in her mind, there was nothing she could do right now but wait.
Jay would be back soon, and everything would be fine. It had to be.