Chapter 12 #2
The silence stretched. Jade resisted the urge to fill it, to justify or explain further. She'd laid out the framework. Now she had to trust it would be enough.
"This is thorough," Diana said finally. She set the paper down but kept one hand resting on it. "You've clearly thought through the complications."
“I have.” Jade met her gaze steadily. “My relationship with Maddox matters to me, but so does my professional integrity and my contract with this department. I’m not asking for special treatment, just the same oversight structure that would apply to any interdepartmental relationship.”
“And if I determine at any point that the relationship is compromising your work?”
“Then I’ll accept whatever reassignments you deem necessary.”
Diana was quiet for another moment, her sharp eyes studying Jade with an intensity that felt like being scanned for weaknesses. Jade held still under the scrutiny.
“I called Shaw into my office Friday afternoon,” Diana said. “Someone had filed a report expressing concern about your relationship. I presented her with several options for how we could handle the situation, all of which required some form of adjustment or oversight.”
Jade’s chest tightened. She’d known this, but hearing it confirmed still hurt. “How did she respond?”
"Not well." Diana's expression remained neutral, but something flickered in her eyes. "She was...significantly more rattled than I've ever seen her. I've watched Officer Shaw handle active shooters with more composure than she showed in my office Friday."
Diana paused, took a slow sip of coffee.
"I'm telling you this because I want you to understand: the professional complications are resolvable.
They always were. The options I presented were all workable, but they just required transparency and boundaries.
Whatever happened between you two after that meeting, it wasn't because departmental policy demanded it. "
The words landed with the weight of confirmation. Maddox had destroyed what they had over something that had a solution rather than face the vulnerability of working through complications together.
Jade swallowed against the tightness in her throat. "I know."
"Do you?" Diana's gaze sharpened. "Because I need to know you're not just trying to fix this for her sake.
Your proposal is sound, Jade. It addresses my concerns and protects the department's integrity.
But I won't approve it if you're taking this on as emotional labor to save someone who's not willing to meet you halfway. "
It was the echo of Carla's words from yesterday. “You can't do the work for her.”
"I'm not," Jade said. "I'm resolving the professional situation because it's the right thing to do and because it removes an external obstacle. But Maddox and I, that's separate. She has to choose whether she wants to fight for us and do the actual work. I can't make that choice for her."
Diana studied her for a long moment, then nodded. "All right. I'll approve your proposal with one addition: our first check-in happens this week, not next month. I want to establish the oversight immediately."
Relief flooded through Jade's chest, so intense it made her hands shake slightly. She tucked them underneath her thighs and sat on them. "Thank you."
"Don't thank me yet." Diana pulled out a relationship disclosure form from her desk drawer, already printed and waiting.
"This framework only works if both parties are committed to maintaining professional boundaries.
I'll be watching closely, and if I see any indication that personal feelings are interfering with department operations, we'll revisit the arrangement. "
"Understood."
Diana slid the form across the desk but kept her hand resting on it. "If Shaw chooses to continue the relationship, you'll both need to file this disclosure form. I'll add the oversight terms to your contract as an addendum today, but the paperwork waits until you both decide you want this."
Jade nodded. The professional path was clearing, but they still had to work out the personal aspects.
"I'll inform Officer Shaw this morning that the professional complications have been resolved," Diana continued.
"And that she'll be expected at our first check-in Friday morning to establish the oversight framework, if there's a relationship to oversee.
" Her sharp gaze held Jade's. "But I won't tell her you came in. That conversation is between you two."
"Thank you."
Diana's expression softened just slightly. "I meant what I said Friday to Shaw, and I'll say it to you now: I value your work with this department. The wellness programs you've implemented have made a measurable difference. I don't want to lose that."
"You won't," Jade said.
"But I also won't compromise department integrity for anyone's relationship, no matter how much I personally respect both parties involved."
"I wouldn't ask you to."
Diana picked up the disclosure form and tucked it back in her drawer. "Maddox is lucky to have you fighting for this. I hope she realizes that."
Jade stood, tucking her copy of the proposal into her bag. "She has until tonight to decide if she wants me to keep fighting."
"Tonight?"
"I'm going to her house after her shift ends to work out whether she still wants to fight for us now that the professional complications are resolved.”
Diana's sharp eyes tracked her with something that might have been approval. "Good. Don't let her hide behind the job as an excuse."
"I won't."
As Jade left the office, the weight that had been pressing on her chest all weekend lifted slightly. The obstacles were removed. Everything else was up to Maddox.
Jade’s workday crawled by with the particular slowness that came from knowing something important waited at the end of it.
She went through the motions: client sessions, paperwork, and a brief check-in with one of the newer officers who’d requested support after a difficult call. All of it necessary, yet it felt like filler to her before the real conversation that mattered.
Maddox left the police department at four-thirty, drove home to change out of her work clothes and into dark jeans and a soft sweater.
She needed to feel like herself for this conversation.
Not Jade Kessler, the contracted therapist, but just Jade.
By five, she was back in her car driving toward the outskirts of Phoenix Ridge where Maddox’s house sat on a quiet street next to the forest. She’d been there enough times over the past month to know the route by heart, and she let her mind wander while she drove the winding road through the hills.
Maddox’s truck was already parked out front in the gravel driveway when Jade pulled in, the sight of it tightening her chest. Maddox was home, probably inside with Zeus and going through her evening routine or sitting on the back porch with a beer.
Jade sat in her car for a moment, breathing through the nerves that wanted to convince her this was a mistake.
But it wasn’t a mistake. It was necessary, for both of them.
She got out, walked up the three wooden steps to the front door, and knocked loudly and insistent, the way you knocked when you weren’t leaving until someone answered.
The wait felt endless. She could hear Zeus barking his alert bark inside, and then Maddox’s voice muffled through the door. “Zeus, settle.”
The door opened. Maddox stood there in jeans and an old Marine Corps t-shirt, barefoot, and hair slightly damp like she’d just showered.
She looked exactly how Jade felt: exhausted, devastated, and barely holding it together.
Dark circles shadowed her eyes, and her face looked drawn, tight with the kind of tension that came from not sleeping or eating or barely functioning beyond the bare minimum.
For a second, neither of them spoke.
Then Maddox’s expression shifted into something guarded. “Jade, what are you—”
“Can I come in?” Jade’s voice came out steadier than she felt. “We need to talk.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“I’m not asking.” Jade stepped forward, not aggressively but not backing down either. “We need to have this conversation. You can either let me in, or I can stand on your porch and say what I need to say.”
Maddox’s eyes narrowed, but she stepped back, pulling the door wider.
Jade walked inside. The house smelled like dog and coffee, and Zeus appeared from the hallway, tail wagging tentatively, uncertain about the tension but happy to see her.
She reached down to scratch behind his ears, using the moment to ground herself.
“Diana told you,” Maddox said from behind her. It wasn’t a question.
Jade straightened then turned to face her. “Diana told me she informed you this morning that the professional complications have been resolved, but that’s all.”
Maddox’s expression didn’t relax, but something flickered in her eyes that Jade couldn’t quite read.
“I went to her office first thing,” Jade continued. “I proposed a framework for oversight, and she approved it. The professional barriers are cleared. They always were.”
“You shouldn’t have done that.”
She took a step back, putting space between her and the words that stung like a slap. “Why not?”
“Because it doesn’t change anything.”
Jade’s chest tightened, but she kept her voice level.
“It changes everything. You ended the relationship because you were terrified of losing your job”—her voice pitched lower—”of losing Zeus.
” She stepped forward again. “But those consequences? They’re manageable.
Diana said so herself. The options she presented were all workable, but they just required transparency and boundaries. ”
Maddox looked away, her jaw working, and Jade wished she was able to read her mind.
“The professional excuses are gone,” Jade said. “Which means you have to face the real question: Do you want this? Do you want me? Are you willing to fight for us and compromise to keep this?”
“Jade—”