Chapter 11
The Line Between Work and Home
GAbrIEL
Be careful? What is that supposed to mean? I nod my head and say, “Always, Bumper.”
As I slip into my car, a familiar sense of routine settles over me. I say a prayer, whispering the same words I’ve said a thousand times before. “Please bless this car and keep me safe during my shift tonight. Keep my family happy and safe too.”
It’s not just a superstition—it’s a grounding ritual, a way of soothing myself when the weight of the world seems like it might crush me.
Ma used to say a prayer like it when I was a kid, and I picked it up the moment I got my license. A little something to carry with me, like a shield. I know the roads can be unpredictable, but I do what I can to control the things I can.
The drive to the station is short, barely ten minutes, but I make the most of it by listening to my audiobook. It’s barely become a routine—just me, the road, and a story that sweeps me away from the reality of my job.
On the outside, I’m all business. A big grump with a heart of steel, or at least that’s the impression I like to give. But deep down, I’m a book nerd. Always have been. I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve devoured the same stories, but they still bring me comfort.
My guilty pleasure.
It’s easier to live inside a story than deal with the one I’m in sometimes. Fiction always makes sense. People don’t. Not in the real world when you’re raising a kid alone. Not when your heart’s taken more hits than you let anyone see.
I think about Millie and Aura as the miles click by. Wondering what they’re doing tonight. Is Millie still up with her? Did Aura settle down okay?
It’s stupid how often my mind wanders to them lately.
Not Aura. She’s always on my mind—but Millie.
There’s a brightness she carries with her.
I swear she doesn’t know she lights up a room just by walking in.
I hate how aware I’ve become of it. In the two times she’s been in my house, she’s made it feel less like a shell and more like a home.
It’s silly, but every night when I leave, there’s this gnawing worry in my chest. Sometimes I forget how much my world has changed since my baby girl came into my life. But now I can’t imagine a different life.
Pulling into the station parking lot, I park in my usual spot. It’s one of those little things that feels like it belongs to me. The same way the rhythm of my shift feels like it’s mine. It might be small, but it gives me something solid to hold on to.
I get out of the car and hit the lock button on my keys. Tossing them in my duffel bag, I feel that familiar tug on my chest—a tightness that comes with the weight of my responsibilities, knowing that I’m walking into another night of uncertainty.
Some of the other guys don’t bother bringing extra stuff.
They just show up in their uniforms and go home in them.
But I’m different. I like to be me when I’m off the clock—comfortable clothes, no uniform, no badge.
Just me. It’s not about being a rebel or anything—it’s about drawing a line between my work and my personal life.
It’s the only way I can feel like I’m still me, even when I’m expected to be someone else at work.
That line? It’s gotten blurrier since Millie stepped into my world. She doesn’t just babysit. Somehow she has been filling the cracks in the foundation I didn’t even know were there.
I walk through the front doors of the station, and Martha, the dispatcher for the night shift, greets me with her usual warmth. Her voice cuts through the fog of my thoughts, and I’m grateful for the distraction.
“Hey Gabriel, how were your days off?” She asks, her smile wide and welcoming.
“Good,” I grunt, giving her the same half-hearted response I always give. I don’t mean to be rude, but sometimes small talk feels like a chore.
It’s not that I’m antisocial. Well, maybe I am, but I appreciate the simplicity of small exchanges. Besides talking too much when I’ve only had a few hours of sleep rarely ends well for anyone.
She grins like she can tell that I’m barely awake. “Glad to hear it. You look like you could use another day off.”
I chuckle softly, the corners of my mouth tugging upward despite myself. “Yeah, I’ll get right on that.”
Her knowing smirk lingers a second longer than I’d like. People around here think I’m made of stone, but lately, I’ve caught myself smiling more than usual. She’s probably noticed. Damn it.
I head to the locker room, relieved to see no one else is here yet. Looks like I’m early. It’s not a bad thing. Gives me time to check in with Millie. I grab my phone and shoot Josh a quick text, reminding him he’s on tonight. As usual, I get a quick response—“mhmm” followed by the usual nonsense.
I sit down on the bench, unzipping my duffel bag. Inside, I pull out my clothes and start hanging them in my locker. Then I grab the container of mac ‘n cheese Millie made for me before I left.
She’s always thoughtful like that, even when she’s got a hundred things on her plate. I set it on the bench beside me, hoping I wouldn’t forget to take it with me during the shift. I’m notorious for that. Forgetting things, I mean. My brain’s a little scattered on a good day.
I stare at the container longer than I should. It’s just food—but the fact that she thought of me, with no reason to, hits me in a way I can’t quite explain.
Just as I’m finishing up, Josh shuffles through the door, looking half asleep. He doesn’t have the best track record of being punctual.
“Dude, get here on time for once,” I grumble.
He shrugs, stripping out of his civilian clothes and into his uniform with all the grace of a sloth on tranquilizers. I’ve told him a dozen times that it’s a lifesaver to come in already suited up, but it never seems to sink into his thick skull.
“Okay, let’s go,” he mutters sleepily, his words slurring a little.
We manage to hit the road only three minutes later than planned. It’s no big deal, but it still bothers me. Precision matters. Even if most of our night shift will be quiet and uneventful.
And tonight, quiet is an understatement. The streets of Cherry Falls are eerily still. Almost too still. The night that makes you feel like you’re the last person awake in the world. We’ve only stopped one person for speeding—a guy going 10 over the limit, but that’s it.
“So, Mills is watching Aura tonight, huh?” Josh asks, breaking the silence that’s settled between us.
“Yeah, she is,” I answer, my voice betraying a hint of affection as I think of Millie.
I try to play it cool, but even I can hear the way my voice softens when I talk about her. It’s a change you don’t notice until it’s too late.
I can’t help it. It’s hard not to when she’s so good with Aura. It’s not something I expected from her when I first met her. I knew she had a sweet and sassy side. But the way she bonded with my daughter so effortlessly, like they’ve always been connected. Hits me in the heart in the best way.
I glance at the clock on the dashboard. It’s already nine. I wonder if Aura’s asleep yet. It doesn’t matter when she falls asleep. She’s always up every three hours anyway.
I bite my lip, feeling that pull again. I send Millie a text, even though I know I’m probably interrupting her routine.
“Mills is good. She has loved kids for as long as I’ve known her. Pretty sure she was originally going to college to get her teaching cert,” Josh says, pulling me out of my thoughts.
“She was going to be a teacher?” I ask, surprised. I can’t imagine her doing anything other than running the café. But she’d be an incredible teacher—there’s no doubt about that. Millie has a way with kids. She’s patient, and kind, and has a natural warmth to her.
“Yeah, man,” Josh continues, his tone softening.
“She was always making her brothers and me concoctions when we were kids. At first, we hated it cause we weren’t into coffee.
But then, when we started getting older and tired all the time, she made us these drinks that had us wide awake at 2 a.m. Sometimes I’d swear she knew exactly what we needed. ”
I chuckle. I can picture it now—Millie with her apron on, creating these elaborate drinks for her brothers, always making sure they were okay.
“That’s cool,” I mutter, though it’s more than cool to me. I think about how that could be Aura one day. If Millie stays in her life, she could teach her so much. Not just about kindness, but about the joy of taking care of others.
“Yeah, she’s a good kid,” Josh says, almost like he’s reading my mind. “She’s always been that way. Cares about everyone, no matter who they were.”
“That’s what I want for Aura,” I say, more to myself than to Josh. “Kindhearted, loving.”
Josh gives me a sidelong glance, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “She’s lucky to have you, man.”
Before I can respond, Josh suddenly raises an eyebrow. “But you wouldn’t mind getting to know Mills better, huh?”
I know exactly where this is going. Josh loves to push my buttons.
I hesitate for a second, then just give him the answer he’s looking for. “Yeah, I would.”
Josh slams on the brakes a little too hard, making me lurch forward in my seat. “Hell yeah, you would! Damn, I’ve been waiting for you to admit it. I think you are good for her. Her ex was such a douchcanoe. Asher, Reuben, and I had to go set him straight. No one messes with our girl.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Her brothers did that?”
Josh nods. “Oh yeah. They were furious. It’s what brothers do, right? Protect their sisters.”
I wonder if her family feels about her working for me. It’s one of those things I haven’t asked about, but it’s suddenly nagging at me.
“Did she tell them about the job? What did her family think?”
Josh’s face softens as he takes a sip of his coffee.
“Yeah, she told them. Well, at least her siblings. Let me tell you, her brothers are not happy. But Millie? She’s a total badass.
She put them in their place and even kicked them out of the weekly sibling sleepover.
You should’ve seen their faces when she told them they were out for the week.
It’s a sacred event for them, but Millie wasn’t playing around. ”
So, Millie is not only a sweetheart but a badass who takes shit from no one. Not even her older brothers.
It hits me all at once: Millie’s not just someone who’s sweet and good with kids. She’s strong. Fierce when it matters. The person who sets boundaries and doesn’t flinch when people push back. That kind of quiet courage? It floors me.
The rest of the shift drags. I eat Millie’s mac n' cheese and all but roll my eyes in the back of my head. Next to me, Josh chuckles softly.
I don’t say it out loud, but it tastes like home. Like something I didn’t know I’d been missing.
At around ten-thirty, I send a text to Millie.
Me
Hey just checking in, how are my girls?
Bumper
Aura is good. She is sleeping now. I just fed her and rocked her to sleep. I’m gonna sleep now too.
Me
Sweet dreams, Bumper. Let the bedbugs bite.
I regret it the second I hit send. The teasing. The nickname. All of it feels too soft, too close. But I don’t take it back. And she doesn’t seem to mind.
By the time the shift ends, the sun is just beginning to rise. Josh and I go to the locker room to change and head home.
Driving home after a twelve-hour shift is brutal. The nice thing about living so close to the station is the short commute after a long shift. When I get home, I quietly unlock the door and turn the alarm system off before it wakes up Mille or Aura.
I head to the kitchen to put the container in the dishwasher before going upstairs to check on Aura. I know Millie is with her, but I can’t help but want to see my baby.
I open the door softly and walk into the guest bedroom. Both Millie and Aura are sleeping. When I get close enough, I see Millie has her hand draped across my daughter’s belly to soothe her.
Her breathing is steady, soft, and there’s a peaceful look on her face like she belongs here. Like she’s always belonged here. I stare too long. I know I do. But for one second, I let myself picture this—us—as something more than temporary.
A floorboard creaks, and Millie stirs awake. Her eyes flutter open, confusion flickering across her face when she sees me standing there.
All I can say is, “Hey there, Bumper.”
She smiles, sleepy and soft, and suddenly it feels like the sun is rising twice in this room. Once outside, and once in her eyes.