The bedroom was dimly lit, cast in a warm golden hue from the lamp on Tim’s side of the bed. The covers were pulled back neatly, waiting for Lucy to climb in like she always did—after her nighttime routine, after the moisturizer, after the lights were turned off, after she leaned over to kiss him with that sleepy, content smile she only wore at home. But tonight… tonight felt off.
Lucy was quiet. Not her usual end-of-the-day, mellow kind of quiet, but the sort that made Tim’s instincts twitch. Her movements were slower, more careful. She hadn’t looked at him since they came upstairs. She kept busy—putting away a pair of earrings, tucking a hoodie into a drawer, smoothing the surface of the dresser even though there wasn’t a speck of dust on it.
And Tim knew exactly why.
He’d screwed up earlier. Maybe it hadn’t seemed like a big deal at the time, but the more he thought about it, the more it made sense.
Lucy had been telling him about a tough moment she’d had on patrol—some rookie had frozen up during a tense stop, and she’d had to talk him through it, all while staying sharp and alert. She’d started to open up about how hard it was, how it reminded her of her own rookie days. She was clearly working through something, trying to be vulnerable.
And he… he’d answered his phone.
It had been Sergeant Grey, and it had seemed important. But still, Lucy had gone quiet afterward. Her eyes had dimmed, and she never picked up the thread of her story. She’d smiled and said it was fine, but Tim had known it wasn’t.
Now, she was standing on her side of the room, arms crossed, staring down at a small stack of folded laundry like it had personally offended her.
Tim closed the file he’d been pretending to read and leaned back against the headboard. “Lucy?” he asked, voice low and careful.
She didn’t look at him. Just kept folding the same shirt over and over.
He watched her for a moment longer. The tight line of her shoulders. The way she kept swallowing, like she was trying not to say something. He’d seen her like this before—caught between wanting to talk and wanting to protect herself.
He set the tablet on the nightstand and ran a hand over his face. The air between them felt too heavy, too quiet. And he couldn’t take it anymore.
He reached his hand out and said, soft but certain, “Baby… c’mere.”
Lucy’s hands froze mid-fold. Her head dropped slightly, and for a moment, she didn’t move.
Then, slowly, she turned around.
Her eyes met his, and even in the soft light, he could see the tension in them. Sadness. Hurt. Maybe a little bit of anger, but mostly disappointment.
Still, she came.
She crossed the room and climbed onto the bed, but not like usual. Not with that relaxed grace he loved. She perched on the edge, her body turned slightly away, leaving just enough space between them to feel like a wall.
Tim didn’t hesitate. He shifted closer, sliding one strong arm around her waist and gently pulling her into him. She didn’t resist—but she didn’t melt into him either.
“You’re mad at me,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
“I’m not mad,” she whispered. But her voice cracked on the last word, and she exhaled sharply through her nose like she was trying not to cry.
“Okay,” Tim murmured, not pushing. “Then you’re hurt. And I get it.”
She was quiet for a long moment. Then finally, “You always say you want me to open up more. And then when I finally do… you pick up the phone.”
The words were small, but they hit him like a punch to the chest.
“Shit, Luce…” He tightened his arm around her. “I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry. That call wasn’t worth more than what you were trying to tell me.”
“I know it wasn’t intentional,” she said. “But it felt like it didn’t matter to you. Like I didn’t matter in that moment.”
Tim shifted so he could face her more fully, one hand coming up to cradle her cheek.
“You always matter to me,” he said, voice thick with emotion. “More than anything. I was being a dumbass, and I’m sorry. When you talk, I need to shut up and listen. No excuses.”
Her eyes welled up. She blinked fast and shook her head, as if trying to brush it off, but he wasn’t letting it go.
“I never want you to feel like I don’t care,” he added. “Because I do. I care so much it scares the hell out of me sometimes.”
That made her eyes finally meet his—really meet them. Something in her expression cracked. She leaned forward, pressing her forehead to his chest, and he wrapped both arms around her, holding her tightly like he could fix it all with just that.
“I know you love me,” she whispered. “But sometimes I just need you to show me you’re there—especially when it’s hard for me to talk.”
Tim nodded against her hair. “I’m here. I’m listening. I’m not going anywhere.”
They stayed like that for a while, just breathing each other in, letting the quiet finally feel safe again.
Then Lucy pulled back slightly and looked up at him with the faintest smile. “I’m still a little annoyed.”
Tim chuckled, brushing his thumb over her cheek. “That’s fair. Be as annoyed as you want. Just don’t make me sleep without you.”
Her smile grew, and she finally leaned in, kissing him—soft and slow, like forgiveness.
When they lay down, she tucked herself against him like she always did. One leg draped over his, her hand resting over his heart. And this time, the silence between them was warm. Whole.
“Hey, Tim?” she whispered sleepily.
“Yeah, baby?”
“I forgive you. Just… don’t make me ask you to listen next time, okay?”
He kissed her hair. “You won’t have to.”
And with that, they drifted off, tangled together—still learning, still loving, still choosing each other. Every night. Even the hard ones.
