Chapter Sixteen
Jasper
The decision to spend time apart from Aurora was difficult to agree to but proved to be considerably harder to live with.
For several days I attempted convincing myself that space would help.
The logic seemed reasonable enough when Aurora and I had discussed it in her apartment.
We both needed time to think. An opportunity to examine fears, expectations, and everything that had brought us to this point.
Unfortunately, logic became considerably less convincing once I returned to an apartment that suddenly felt far too quiet.
Work didn't help.
Being back on full operational duties should have occupied more of my attention than it did.
Firehouse 99 continued operating with its usual efficiency, calls continued arriving, and the responsibilities of the job remained exactly as demanding as they had always been.
The problem was that every quiet moment seemed determined to remind me of Aurora.
A coffee shop prompted memories of our first real conversation.
A bookstore display triggered thoughts of the afternoon we spent discussing authors instead of shopping.
Even driving through the city occasionally reminded me of places we'd visited together.
By Thursday morning, Cody had stopped pretending not to notice.
He dropped into the chair opposite and I glanced up from my coffee.
"You've been miserable all week."
"That's an exaggeration."
"No, it isn't."
He shook his head in disagreement.
"You haven't stopped thinking about Aurora since you left her apartment days ago."
There wasn't much point denying it so nodded.
Cody studied me for a moment and I asked, "What exactly am I supposed to do?"
"Talk to her. As opposed to spending another week convincing yourself that suffering in silence is a personality trait."
I ignored the comment. Unfortunately, Cody continued.
"You love her."
I looked away briefly before admitting, "That's not the problem."
His expression softened slightly.
"You know she loves you too."
I thought about Aurora constantly. The week away from her had done nothing except confirm how important she’d become. Every argument I'd made in favour of giving her space still sounded reasonable, yet none of them made being apart feel any easier.
"Maybe."
Cody sighed.
"You're exhausting. Talk to her."
The remainder of the shift offered no improvement.
Every attempt to focus eventually failed because my thoughts kept returning to the same place.
Aurora's concerns weren't unreasonable. Firefighting involved risk.
I'd known that from the beginning. The difference was that now somebody I loved was struggling with that reality, and I had no idea how to help her through it without asking her to ignore concerns I understood completely.
Our conversation about the dangers of my profession continued occupying my thoughts throughout the afternoon. By the time we returned to the station after a routine call, it had reached the point where even Cole noticed.
"Office," he growled.
I glanced toward him.
"That sounds ominous."
His lack of response provided absolutely no reassurance.
Several minutes later I followed him into his office and closed the door behind me. Cole studied me for a moment before leaning back in his chair. The expression on his face suggested he already knew exactly how the discussion would unfold.
"You look worse than you did after shoulder surgery."
I laughed despite myself.
"That's encouraging."
"It wasn't intended to be."
I lowered myself into the chair opposite him.
"What did I do now?"
Cole folded his arms.
"Nothing."
The answer caught me slightly off guard.
"Then why am I here?"
A small smile appeared.
"Because you're being an idiot."
The conversation somehow felt familiar already.
"I see."
Cole shook his head.
"No, you don't, which is part of the problem."
I waited and eventually he continued.
"Aurora came to see me."
The statement immediately captured my attention and I sat forward.
"When?"
"Earlier today when you were out on call."
Several questions arrived simultaneously.
"Why?"
Cole's smile widened slightly.
"That's between Aurora and me."
I stared at him.
"You're not going to tell me?"
"No."
"Then why bring it up?"
"Because whatever she needed, she cared enough to come looking for answers."
I remained silent. Cole clasped his hands together on the desk and leaned forward slightly.
"Talk to her."
The advice sounded almost absurdly simple.
"I don't think it's that easy."
"You're wrong."
The certainty in his response left little room for argument.
"Aurora isn't running away from you."
I looked toward the window briefly before returning my attention to him.
"How do you know?"
"Because if she wanted to walk away, she wouldn’t have taken the time to come and discuss things with me."
The statement settled heavily in my thoughts.
"She loves you."
The words struck harder than expected.
"Maybe."
His expression suggested he found the response ridiculous.
"No…Definitely."
The office fell quiet for a moment before he spoke again.
"Stop sitting around feeling sorry for yourself and go talk to her. Settle things one way or the other."
The discussion ended shortly afterward, although the advice remained with me long after leaving his office.
By the time the shift ended, I had replayed the conversation often enough to recognise an uncomfortable truth.
Waiting wasn't accomplishing anything. Time apart had given me an opportunity to think, but it hadn't changed how I felt.
If anything, the separation had clarified things considerably.
I loved Aurora.
The certainty existed now without hesitation or qualification. Nothing about the previous week had altered that. An hour later I stood outside her apartment building.
For several moments I remained beside the entrance, wondering whether appearing without warning qualified as confidence or stupidity. Eventually I decided the distinction probably didn't matter. I crossed the lobby, took the elevator upstairs, and stopped outside her door.
Then I knocked.
Several seconds passed before movement sounded from inside the apartment. The door opened a moment later and Aurora stood frozen in surprise.
I suspected my own reaction mirrored hers.
For a brief moment neither of us seemed entirely certain what to do or say. The previous week had created distance neither of us wanted, and suddenly standing face-to-face again made that reality impossible to ignore.
"Aurora."
My voice sounded rougher than intended. Her expression softened immediately.
"Hi."
The single word carried more emotion than an entire conversation.
I looked at her for several seconds then I smiled.
"I think we need to talk."
Aurora stepped aside without hesitation.
"I think so too."
Aurora closed the door behind me before leading the way into the living room.
The apartment looked exactly as it always did, yet the atmosphere felt different for some reason.
Neither of us seemed entirely comfortable pretending the separation had been easy.
The distance had provided time to think, but it had done very little to reduce how much I missed her.
For a few moments we remained standing. Lost in time.
Neither of us appeared interested in discussing weather, work, or any of the other safe subjects people usually used to avoid difficult conversations. The issue between us remained exactly where we had left it. Avoiding it now would accomplish nothing.
"I missed you," I admitted without giving it a second thought.
Aurora's expression changed immediately.
"I missed you too."
Her admission eased something inside me.
Not enough.
But it helped.
Taking her hand, crossed to the couch and sat down.
Aurora settled beside me. The distance between us was small compared to what had existed over the past few days, but neither of us seemed quite ready to close it completely.
Instead, we sat facing each other while the conversation we had both anticipated finally began.
"How are you doing?"
The question sounded simple but it wasn't and Aurora understood that immediately.
"I've been thinking."
A smile touched my mouth.
"Sounds dangerous."
The response earned the first genuine laugh I'd heard from her in days.
"It probably is."
Her smile faded gradually.
"I went to see Cole."
I nodded.
"He called me into his office."
Surprise crossed her face.
"He told you?"
"He told me you came to see him but not what you discussed."
Aurora studied me for a moment.
"I asked him questions…About the job."
She spoke quietly and I listened.
"He didn't try to convince me that firefighting was safe because we both know that would have been ridiculous. He didn't pretend bad things never happen either."
The honesty in her voice left little room for misunderstanding.
"What did he tell you?"
Aurora rested her hands together in her lap.
"He reminded me that life doesn't come with guarantees."
The answer sounded exactly like something Cole would say.
"He talked about firefighters."
A faint smile appeared.
"Then he talked about people who weren't firefighters."
I remained silent because her to continuing felt more important than interrupting.
"He reminded me that people get hurt doing ordinary things every day. People die from illnesses. They die in car accidents. They die crossing streets."
Aurora's gaze met mine.
"I spent days being angry because I realised he was right."
Understanding settled immediately. Not because I agreed with every part of the argument but because I recognised the conclusion she had reached.
"The problem wasn't really your job."
The words emerged carefully now.
"The problem was that I love you, Jasper."
The confession landed harder than anything else she'd said. She continued before I could respond.
"I kept trying to convince myself that walking away would somehow protect me from the possibility of losing you."
Her eyes never left mine.
"The more I thought about it, the less sense it made."
Aurora took a slow breath.