The lamb sliced clean under the knife, falling away in tender ribbons. I plated the food while Marcus grabbed silverware, setting the table with casual ease. A year ago, we didn't have routines. Now, there were rhythms—unspoken movements in our shared space, the natural shape of two lives merging.
We sat down, the warmth of the meal sinking into the quiet between us. The music had shifted again, something bluesy and slow—Susan Tedeschi's"You Got the Silver,"all honey and rasp. Outside, the rain blurred the streetlights into soft, gold halos.
Marcus took a bite, chewed, swallowed, and then pointed his fork at me. "Alright. Your turn."
I raised an eyebrow. "For what?"
"You laid me out earlier with the wholecarrying the weight of the world on my backthing. Now I get to return the favor."
I smirked, breaking off a piece of bread. "Go ahead. Hit me with it."
He leaned back in his chair, twirling his fork between his fingers. "A year ago, you were still running. Pretending like you were settling down when you were waiting for the next fire to drag you back in."
I took a slow sip of wine, letting the words settle. "Not untrue."
Marcus nodded, watching me. "And now?"
I set my glass down, tapping a finger against the base. "I turned down the full-time consulting job."
"I know that."
"But I didn't turn away from it completely." I shifted, feeling the familiar weight of my career choices pressing against my ribs. "I still work with them, here and there. It's good work. I get to use what I know without letting it consume me."
Marcus hummed, considering. "So you're staying put."
"I'm staying put." I held his gaze. "UW offered me a full professorship. It's mine if I want it."
His lips parted slightly, surprised. "And?"
"And I think I do."
Marcus nodded, a slow, approving motion. "That's solid."
"I thought so." I broke another piece of bread, rolling it absently between my fingers. "You ever miss it? The field?"
Marcus exhaled through his nose. "Yeah." He didn't hesitate, which I appreciated. "I miss the heat and the focus. That feeling when the whole world shrinks down to one thing, one goal, one job. But…” He set his fork down, thinking. "I don't miss wondering if my guys are getting the support they need. I don't miss knowing someone's about to break, and I don't have the power to fix it."
I nodded, understanding.
He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. "We just launched a new program at the department. Mandatory mental health check-ins for all personnel. Not just after a bad call.Regularly."
I tilted my head. "That's a big deal."
"Yeah. And it only took a hundred years and a whole lot of people burning themselves out before we got there." His mouth pressed into a line, but there was satisfaction behind it. "I sit in a lot of meetings now. I push a lot of paperwork. But I'mgetting shit done.The kind of shit that matters."
I studied how his shoulders sat differently—still broad and steady but not bearing the same weight. "Good."
His lips twitched. "That your official professional assessment?"
"Oh, absolutely." I took another sip of wine, letting the warmth settle in my stomach.
For a long moment, we sat there, eating and drinking, the rhythm of the rain steady in the background.
I didn't know what came next, but for the first time in a long time, I didn't feel like I had to.
Marcus had just finished the last of his wine when his phone buzzed against the table. He glanced at the screen, lips twitching at whatever he saw before flipping it over.
I raised an eyebrow. "That wasn't a work text."
