Chapter 8 #2
Jade grabbed a clean mug from the cabinet and poured her coffee, trying to not think about the fact she had about four hours to figure out how the hell to explain herself and say this out loud.
By noon, Jade had made it through two client appointments on autopilot and finished her post-session notes. She left the police building and drove to Honey and Hearth, a small cafe off Main Street where she and Carla usually met.
Honey and Hearth Cafe always smelled like something sweet was baking in the oven, mingling with the herbal notes of tea steeping on the counter.
Warm, golden light radiated across the room from copper lanterns hanging from the rafters, each one lit with a soft amber bulb that made the whole place look like it was breathing.
It wasn’t big—six tables if you counted the one that wobbled—but it felt safe and tucked away, the kind of spot where you could have a private conversation without half the town overhearing.
Carla was already there when Jade arrived, sitting at a corner table with her signature forest green cardigan draped over the back of her chair and a cup of tea steaming in front of her.
Her gray hair was pulled back in a low ponytail, and her reading glasses hung from a chain around her neck.
She looked up when Jade approached, and her expression shifted immediately from casual to assessing, her brows knitting.
“That bad?” Carla asked.
“Worse.” Jade sank into the chair across from her. “I slept with a client.”
To Carla’s credit, she didn’t flinch, just took a slow sip of her tea and set the cup down carefully. “Tell me.”
Jade told her about Maddox’s referral for mandatory therapy, the wellness committee, and the coffee shop conversation where something undeniable had passed between them.
Her voice softened slightly when she talked about yesterday’s therapy session when Maddox had finally opened up about Titan, and finally, last night when Maddox had shown up at her door.
“She came to you,” Carla said when Jade finished. “After she processed the session, not immediately after?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re certain this wasn’t just transference?”
Jade had been asking herself the same question all morning. “As certain as I can be. We talked, and she distinguished between trusting me as a therapist and her feelings for…this.”
Carla nodded slowly, her fingers tracing the rim of her teacup. “And how do you feel about her?”
The question landed heavily between them, and Jade looked down at her own untouched coffee that had gone lukewarm.
“Terrified. My ex told me I was too much. That I was too intense, too invested in my work, too…everything. And now here I am, feeling things for someone who’s been my client, someone with massive walls who’s barely starting to let anyone in. ”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
Jade met Carla’s eyes. Her mentor’s gaze was steady and kind, but it didn’t let her hide. She always had a way of cutting to the heart of the situation and holding people accountable. “I think I could fall for her,” she admitted quietly. “I think maybe I already am.”
Carla was quiet for a moment, and Jade braced herself for the lecture and reprimand. But when Carla spoke, her voice was gentle. “Jade, you already know the ethics here.”
“I know. She needs to transfer to another therapist.”
“Immediate,” Carla confirmed. “There’s no way to continue a therapeutic relationship while pursuing a personal one. The boundary is clear.”
“I know,” Jade said again. The relief of having Carla say it out loud, making it real and actionable, loosened something in her chest.
“I could take her,” Carla offered. “If she’s willing. I have experience with PTSD, and I’m trained in EMDR. It might actually be a better fit for the deeper trauma work she needs.”
Jade nodded. “Thank you.”
“But,” Carla continued, and there was something careful in her tone now, “we need to talk about the other piece.”
Jade cocked her head to the side. “What other piece?”
“You and Maddox.” Carla leaned forward. “Seeing aside the ethics for a moment, I need you to be honest with yourself about this. Is this healthy?”
The question stung, probably because Jade had been avoiding asking it herself. “I think so,” she said. “I hope so.”
“You said your ex made you feel like you were too much, and now you’re drawn to someone who needs exactly what you have to give: your care, your persistence, your refusal to give up on people.” Carla’s expression was compassionate but unflinching. “Does that concern you at all?”
Jade’s throat tightened. “You think I’m trying to heal my own wound by fixing hers.”
“I’m asking if you’ve considered it.”
She paused then. Had she really considered it? Jade thought about Maddox’s face when she’d finally told the story about Titan—the mixed relief and terror, the way she’d shown up last night like she was taking a leap off a cliff.
“Maddox doesn’t make me feel like I’m too much,” Jade said slowly.
“When I pushed, she pushed back. When I was persistent, she respected it even when it annoyed her. She’s not asking me to be less of myself.
If anything, she—” Jade stopped, surprised by how her chest had constricted.
“She needs me exactly as I am, and that scares the hell out of me.”
Carla’s expression softened. “That’s honest, at least.”
“But you think it’s too fast.”
“I think you’ve known her for what, two months?
And last night was the first time you crossed that line.
” Carla picked up her tea again, cradling it between her hands.
"Fast doesn't mean wrong, Jade, but it does mean you need to be conscious about it.
Don't let the intensity convince you that you know her better than you do. "
Jade nodded, letting the wisdom of it settle into her bones. “Okay.”
“The therapy transfer needs to happen this week,” Carla said, shifting back into practical mode.
“You'll need to have that conversation with her today, ideally. Make it clear you’re not rejecting her personally or professionally, and it's the only way forward if you both want to pursue a personal relationship.”
“What if she thinks I'm ending things?”
“Then you'll reassure her. You're good at communication, Jade. Use those skills.” Carla's smile was small but warm.
“And for what it's worth, I don't think this is about you trying to fix someone.
I think you're genuinely drawn to her. Just make sure you're building something sustainable, not just responding to intensity.”
Jade felt something loosen in her chest. She didn’t get absolution, exactly—she still had to navigate this carefully and ethically—but she got permission to move forward with her eyes open.
“Keep checking in with me,” Carla added. “Weekly, at minimum. If this relationship is going to work, you need support to maintain your own boundaries and wholeness. Don't lose yourself in taking care of her.”
“I won't,” Jade promised.
Carla gave her a look that suggested she'd believe it when she saw it, but there was affection underneath in her tone. “I'm not saying don't pursue this,” she reiterated. “Just pursue it consciously. Know what you're walking into, communicate, and keep doing your own work.”
“I will.”
“Good.” Carla reached across the table and squeezed Jade's hand briefly. “Trust yourself. You've done the work to know the difference between healing and codependence, but keep doing it.”
They sat in Honey and Hearth for a few minutes longer, talking about Carla’s newest home renovation and the month-long vacation to Romania she was planning to take later in the summer, before they stood up to go back to work.
Jade hugged Carla goodbye and promised, again, that she’d check in weekly.
By the time Jade got back to her office at the police department, she felt steadier.
A plan was forming: talk to Maddox today, explain the therapy transfer, and make it clear this was a necessity.
Carla would take over Maddox’s therapy sessions, and then—assuming Maddox still wanted to try—they could explore this thing between them without the ethical complication hanging over their heads.
It was simple, in theory.
Jade pulled up her email and stared at the black message window. She took a calm, steadying breath to channel her clear, professional voice.
She typed: “Maddox, can you meet briefly after your shift? We need to discuss your therapy arrangements. Nothing urgent, but I’d like to talk today if possible. —Jade.”
She hit send before she could second-guess the wording, and Maddox’s response came back within five minutes: “Is everything okay?”
Jade's chest tightened at the concern evident even in three words.
“Yes,” she typed back. “Just need to talk through some logistics. 6pm? Honey and Hearth? It’s the coffee shop on Main Street.”
Maddox’s response came even quicker this time. “I'll be there.”
Jade set down her phone and let out a long breath. Okay, one conversation at a time. First, the therapy transfer, then everything else can come after. She looked at the clock. Four hours until she saw Maddox again. It felt like an eternity.
The afternoon crawled. Jade tried to work, but session notes, treatment plans, and email responses that should’ve taken minutes stretched into hours. She checked the clock: 2:47, then 3:15, then 3:58.
By 5:30 p.m., she gave up pretending to be productive and headed back to Honey and Hearth.
The cafe was quieter now than it had been during lunch since the after-work crowd hadn’t yet arrived.
Jade claimed the same corner table where she'd sat with Carla earlier and ordered another coffee she didn't really want.
She pulled out her phone, set it on the table, then picked it up again to check for messages she knew weren't there.
She was rehearsing different versions of this conversation in her head when the door opened and Maddox walked in ten minutes early, still in uniform.