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She didn’t say a word—she just stood there, looking him up and down as if she were trying to figure out what kind of man he really was. It seemed like an eternity before she finally spoke.
“I’m done,” she said sharply. “I’m done waiting for you to make a decision about us.” Jake could see the hurt in her eyes—hurt that he had caused by not giving her the commitment she deserved. He wanted so desperately to reach out and touch her face, but he knew it wouldn’t be enough this time. Panic hit him as he realized this might not be something they could come back from.
“Lauren, hold on,” he said. “I know we’ve been having some issues lately, but I care about you—I really do.” He paused for a moment before continuing hesitantly: “Maybe we can try again? Maybe we can figure something out?”
“No, Jake,” Lauren said. “I’ve given you enough time. You clearly don’t want this.”
“Lauren, I do want this,” he said earnestly. “I just need a little more time—I’m scared of what might happen if we try again and it doesn’t work out.” He paused for a moment before continuing: “But I can promise you that I will do everything in my power to make sure that doesn’t happen. Just give me one more chance.”
The room was silent as Lauren looked at him, her expression unreadable.
“No,” she said finally. “I can’t do this anymore. I’m sorry, Jake. I can’t do this.”
Jake’s heart sank into his stomach. He was losing his partner, and there was nothing he could do. He had been too afraid to commit and now he had lost her.
“Lauren,” he said, “I don’t want to lose you as my partner. We make a great team. We’ve caught some of the most dangerous killers together—don’t throw it all away.”
“You have Fiona now,” Lauren said. “You can work with her.”
Jake couldn’t help but feel frustrated. Lauren’s jealousy of Fiona made no sense. The girl was a forensic analyst and likely wasn’t going to be on the field much going forward, even if she had proved herself to be useful on the last couple of cases. She needed a lot of physical and mental training.
“Lauren, Fiona isn’t you,” Jake said. “She’s a great scientist, but you’re my partner. Come on, this is ridiculous.”
Lauren shook her head sadly. “I’m sorry, Jake. I can’t do this anymore. I need someone who is willing to commit, and you’re not.”
She turned to leave, but before she reached the door, she paused and looked back at him one last time. He almost thought she was going to say something, but then she was gone.
Jake stood there for a long moment, his heart heavy with regret and sadness. The last thing he’d ever wanted was for this to affect his professional life as an FBI agent, and by doing everything he could to avoid committing, he’d done just that. He didn’t know where they stood professionally now.
But he hoped when he went in tomorrow, Lauren would still be there. Getting transferred could take time, and she was still a working agent; if the chief asked her to stay on the team, maybe, just maybe, she would.
Jake ignored the seed of doubt in his gut and poured himself another drink.
***
In the morning, Jake woke up with an even worse headache. The extra three glasses of scotch he’d had after Lauren left the night before didn’t help.
He took a deep breath and got ready for work, steeling himself for a difficult day. He had no idea what to expect when he saw Lauren again, but he knew he had to at least apologize.
As Jake made his way through his apartment, the morning sun seeping through the bright windows, the photo propped up on his bookshelf made him pause.
It was a family photo of Jake, his older brother, Sam, his dad, and his mom.
Back when his mom was still alive.
Painful memories surged through his mind as he saw his mom’s smile. Her bright red lipstick, her curly blonde hair. Jake and Sam got their brown eyes and hair from their dad, but their mom had a colorful palette.
When he closed his eyes, he saw flashes of blood. He’d been only fifteen when his dad and brother were away on a camping trip, and he’d found his mom murdered in their kitchen.
The police never found the killer.
The image of her lifeless body on the floor, blood everywhere, was burned into his brain.
Jake felt a wave of panic wash over him as he remembered it all. He had to force himself to take a deep breath and try to focus on something else.
But it was too late. His heart raced and he could feel sweat beginning to bead on his forehead. He couldn’t shake the feeling of dread that had taken hold of him—the same one he’d been feeling for years but had never been able to explain.
He stumbled back, grasping at the wall for support as his breathing grew more shallow and labored. His vision blurred and he felt like he was going to faint, or worse—like maybe he might die right there in his own apartment without anyone ever knowing what happened.
