"I need to see her," I whispered between ragged breaths, the words breaking apart as they left me. My hands shook as Igrabbed my phone like it was the only thing keeping me alive. I tried calling April again before the awful truth hit me like a punch.
She blocked me.
My throat closed. "I can't believe this," I choked out, voice cracking open. "What a nightmare. I hurt her—Ihurt my April.What the hell is wrong with me?" My fingers dug into my hair, desperate to tear the moment apart, rip it backwards, undo it somehow.
Ben's voice snapped through the air, fierce with disappointment that made my stomach twist. "You were cruel," he said, each word deliberate and heavy. "Cruel and careless. You could have communicated with her any other time, but instead, you tore her down and everyone heard."
I shut my eyes, swallowing the thick lump that kept climbing my throat. "I know," I whispered, shaking. "I fucking know, Ben. I fucked up so bad." My voice collapsed into something hoarse, desperate. "I don't want to lose her. I love her. I love her so much it makes me sick."
Ben stared at me for a long, unbearable moment. His jaw clenched. Finally, he exhaled through his nose and shook his head slowly, almost mournfully.
"Then why," he asked, voice rough, "did you break her heart?"
The question hit harder than anything he'd said before—because he wasn't asking to accuse me. He was asking because he genuinely didn't understand. Becauseneither did I.Because there was no good reason. All I know is that everything inside mefelt like it had been turned upside down the moment she walked away.
All I could do was stand there, choking on the realization that I might have ruined the one thing I couldn't bear to lose.
A couple of days later at the station, I could feel the atmosphere shift the moment I walked in. Conversations hushed mid-sentence. People who normally greeted me with nods or jokes suddenly found something very interesting on the floor. The familiar warmth of the place had turned brittle, cold.
Jess caught me by the lockers. Her voice was quiet, but there was steel underneath.
"How could you, Ellis?" she asked, eyes searching my face like she was trying to recognize someone she no longer knew. "After everything we know about her? How could you say those things?"
My mouth went dry. "Jess... I made a mistake. I was drunk. I didn't mean it."
She exhaled sharply, disbelief tightening her jaw. "Wow. You being drunk changeseverything. I'm sure April feels so much better now."
Behind her, two officers who usually joked with April exchanged glances. Mark stood farther down the hallway; when our eyes met, he didn't bother hiding the judgement in his. Then Tom approached. The set of his jaw alone warned me I wasn't getting out of this with anything gentle.
"She's shy, Ellis," he began, voice low but cutting. "Painfully shy. You know that. People look at her and assume she's cold ordistant, but that's not who she is at all. She's just... quiet. Gentle. Careful with people, and still one of the toughest on the job."
He shook his head, disbelief tightening every line of his face.
"We've worked with her for years. Years," Tom said, and there was something almost disbelieving in the way he looked at me. "She's not a firefighter, but she's been right there with us—on calls, on searches, on joint operations. We've watched her step into situations most people wouldn't even look at twice, let alone walk toward. She's brave in this quiet, unflashy way."
He shook his head slowly, frustration tightening his expression.
"She doesn't push herself into the spotlight. She doesn't boast. Half the time, people don't even realize how much she does because she never asks for thanks. But she is solid, and steady, and stronger than anyone gives her credit for, even stronger than she givesherself."
My stomach twisted so hard it hurt.
"And she trusted you," he added, voice dropping into something sharp and disappointed. The words hit me like a blow.
I tried to draw in air, but it felt thick like my lungs were filling with concrete instead of breath. Tom's tone shifted again, the edge turning harsher, angrier.
"Everyone in this building knows what happened, Ellis. Everyone. It spread fast. And she knows we heard the humiliating stuff that shouldn't have been said about anyone, let alone someone who cared about you."
He stepped closer, eyes narrow and unflinching.
"And she still came to work. She still showed up, doing her job, acting like nothing was wrong, even though anyone with eyes could see she was barely holding it together." He shook his head, bitter. "She walked in here trying not to shrink, trying not to break, knowing the whole damn station heard her being torn down by the one person she let in."
Behind him, someone murmured, "Unbelievable..." and another person quietly drifted to the far side of the room, as if proximity alone might stain them.
Tom shook his head again, slower this time, colder. "You didn't just hurt her, Ellis. You exposed her. You embarrassed her in front of the people she spends half her life with. She's already shy and anxious, and you made her feel small." He paused, jaw tightening. "How could you do that to her?"
I could feel the shift ripple through the room, a silent verdict passing from one face to another. No one spoke, but they didn't have to.
The cold shoulders weren't just noticeable, they were orchestrated and deliberate. It was a wall forming around me brick by brick. The distance carved itself through the room, turning me into something foreign, something unwelcome. I wasn't just outside the group. I was the crack splintering through it and the fracture they couldn't look at without remembering what I'd done.
