Chapter 10
Jade woke to the weight of Maddox's arm across her stomach.
She lay still for a moment, listening to Maddox's breathing against her shoulder—deep and even. The bedroom was quiet, and the early morning traffic only a distant hum through the windows.
“I'm falling in love with you.”
Maddox had said it last night, her voice rough like admitting her feelings was foreign to her. And Jade had told her it wasn't too much or too fast; she had held her face and said she was scared too. She had given everything except those same words back.
She needed to think.
Carefully, Jade slid out from under Maddox's arm. The mattress shifted and she paused, but Maddox just made a small sound and rolled onto her stomach, her face pressed into the pillow. Still out.
Jade pulled on her robe and padded to the kitchen.
The coffee maker was loud in the quiet apartment, but Maddox didn't stir. Jade stood at the counter while it brewed, arms crossed, staring at nothing.
She'd wanted to say it back. Of course she did. The words had been right there, sitting in her throat. But her ex's voice had gotten there first: “You're exhausting, Jade. Can't you just be less intense about everything?”
Three years of being told she felt too much, wanted too much, needed too much. Three years of making herself smaller, quieter, less.
And still it hadn't been enough.
So when Maddox said those words yesterday—vulnerable and uncertain and brave—Jade had choked.
The coffee maker beeped. She poured two mugs, added sugar and cream to hers and left Maddox's black how she liked it.
The thing was, she knew what she felt. She’d known for weeks, maybe. Since Maddox laughed during the K-9 demo or the coffee shop conversation that went too long or the first time they'd slept together and Maddox had looked at her like she really saw her.
She was falling for Maddox, had been falling, might already have fallen.
But saying it out loud made it real. It made it something that could break her if it went wrong. And Maddox was just starting to let her walls down—what if this was too much too fast? What if Jade said it and Maddox panicked then rebuilt her walls?
She heard light footsteps behind her.
"Hey," Maddox said, voice like gravel from sleep.
Jade turned. Maddox stood in the doorway in just her t-shirt and underwear, hair sticking up on one side, looking rumpled and uncertain.
"Hey." Jade picked up the second mug and held it out. "Made you coffee."
"Thanks." Maddox took it, their fingers brushing. She leaned against the counter, cradling the mug but not drinking it yet, just holding it.
They stood in silence for a moment. Jade could see Maddox working up to something, the muscles in her jaw tensing and releasing.
"I meant it," Maddox said finally. "Last night. What I said."
Jade's chest tightened. "I know."
"You didn't say anything back." Maddox’s body language screamed vulnerability.
"I know," Jade said quietly.
Maddox looked down at her coffee. "Is that...are you saying you don't—"
"No." Jade set her mug down and stepped closer. "No, that's not what I'm saying."
Maddox's eyes came up to meet hers, guarded and waiting.
"I'm not good at saying things in the moment," Jade said. "I need to think first and make sure I mean them before I speak."
Something shifted in Maddox's expression. It wasn’t quite relief, but close. "Okay."
"Is that okay? That I need time?"
"Yeah." Maddox set her mug down, too, and reached for Jade's hand. "Yeah, that's okay."
Jade threaded their fingers together. "I just need to be sure. Not about how I feel, just about saying it out loud."
Maddox nodded slowly, understanding crossing her face. "Your ex."
"She made me feel like I was always too much," Jade supplied. "So I'm careful now. Sometimes maybe too careful."
"You're not too much," Maddox said, quiet but firm.
The words settled something in Jade's chest. She stepped closer, bringing their joined hands up between them. "Thank you for telling me, for being brave enough to say it first."
“It felt terrifying.”
"I know." Jade kissed her, brief and soft. "I'm glad you did anyway."
When they pulled apart, Maddox's expression had softened. It was still uncertain, but less defensive.
"We should probably get ready," Jade murmured. "You have a shift, and I have clients."
Maddox groaned. "Do we have to?"
"Unfortunately." Jade smiled, squeezing her hand before letting go. "You need to get home and check on Zeus before going to the station."
"He's probably pissed that I didn't come home last night." Maddox smiled.
They moved around each other while getting ready, Jade showering first while Maddox found her clothes from yesterday, wrinkled on the floor. When Jade came out in her robe, Maddox slipped past her into the bathroom.
Jade got dressed quickly, choosing a soft olive blouse and dark jeans, something professional enough for the office. By the time Maddox stepped out of the shower, Jade was pulling her hair back.
"You look nice," Maddox said from the doorway.
Jade met her eyes in the mirror. "Thanks. You look like you need to change before shift."
"Yeah." Maddox glanced down at yesterday's clothes. "I definitely need to stop home first."
They stood looking at each other for a moment. The conversation from the kitchen still hung between them: Jade's need for time, Maddox's patience with it.
"Text me later?" Jade asked. "During lunch?"
"Yeah." Maddox crossed to her, hands settling on Jade's hips. "I'd like that."
Jade turned in her arms and kissed her. When they pulled back, she could see the question still lingering in Maddox's expression—uncertainty about what this morning meant and whether Jade would ever be ready to speak her feelings.
"Go," Jade said gently. "Zeus is waiting."
Maddox nodded, grabbed her jacket, and paused at the bedroom door. "Jade?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm glad you told me that you need some time." Her voice was quiet. "I don't want you to say anything you're not ready to say."
Something warm settled in Jade's chest. "Thank you."
After Maddox left, the apartment felt too quiet. Jade stood in the kitchen with her coffee, staring out the window.
I'm falling in love with you.
She was, but saying it felt enormous, like once the words were spoken, they couldn't be taken back.
Her phone buzzed on the counter next to her.
Maddox: “Home. Zeus is judging me for smelling like you.”
Jade smiled despite herself, typing back: “Tell him I'm sorry for corrupting his partner.”
Maddox: “Too late. Already corrupted.”
The warmth in Jade's chest expanded. She set her phone down, finished her coffee, and grabbed her bag.
Work waited for her. Clients needed her focused and present, not distracted by feelings she wasn't ready to name out loud.
But as she locked the apartment door behind her, one thought followed her down the stairs:
Me, too, Maddox. Me too.
The morning passed in emails and case notes, coffee that went cold while Jade prepped for her first session. By ten o'clock, she'd almost convinced herself she could focus.
Jade's ten o'clock client was a patrol officer named Stacy Whittaker who'd been in a car accident three weeks ago.
She had minor injuries but had major anxiety about getting back behind the wheel.
They'd been working on grounding techniques, cognitive reframing, and gradual exposure to help her get back to work.
"I drove to work today," Stacy said, settling into the chair across from Jade. "First time since the accident."
"How did that feel?" Jade asked, genuinely pleased. Stacy had been taking an Uber and bus for weeks.
"Terrible." Stacy laughed, but there was relief underneath it. "My hands were shaking the whole way. But I did it."
"That's significant progress." Jade made a note. "What helped you make that choice today?"
They talked through the decision, the fear, and the moment Stacy turned the key anyway. Jade listened, asked questions, and guided without pushing her beyond her limits. This was the work she was good at: holding space and helping people see their own strength.
Her phone buzzed in her bag. She ignored it but made a mental note to check it later.
Stacy was describing the drive, the way every car felt too close, how every light took too long. Jade nodded, tracking the anxiety patterns and noting the self-talk that had gotten Stacy through her fear.
"You used the techniques we practiced," Jade observed. "Even when it was hard."
"Yeah." Stacy seemed surprised, raising her eyebrows. "I guess I did."
By the time the session ended, Stacy was sitting straighter, some of the tension gone from her shoulders. Progress wasn't linear, but it was happening.
"Same time next week?" Jade asked at the door.
"Yeah. Thanks, Doc."
Jade smiled. "You did the work. I just witnessed it."
After Stacy left, Jade went back to her chair, tucked a leg underneath her, and checked her phone. She saw a text from Maddox, sent twenty minutes ago: “Quiet morning so far. Zeus is bored.”
Jade typed back: “Tell him to be patient. Crime doesn't run on his schedule.”
The reply pinged quickly.
Maddox: “He disagrees and thinks criminals should be more considerate.”
Jade found herself smiling at her phone like a teenager. She set it down in her bag and pulled up her notes to review before her next session.
Her eleven-thirty session was with a firefighter dealing with nightmares after a house fire where they'd lost a family. It’d be a heavy session, and her client needed Jade to be fully present to hold space for her.
She brewed a fresh pot of coffee, reviewed her notes, and centered herself.
The firefighter—Leilani Silva, a young woman with a kind smile—arrived right on time. She had dark circles under his eyes and was carrying an already empty coffee cup. Her long dark hair was braided in a messy plait that fell over her right shoulder.
They'd been working together for two months, building trust slowly.
"How’s your week been?" Jade asked as Leilani sat down.