Chapter 11

11

CASS

C ass sat at her desk, the hum of the firehouse around her barely registering. The shift had started like any other, routine and predictable, yet everything felt off. She hadn’t been able to focus on anything since the argument with Evelyn. No matter how hard she tried to pour herself into the work, the weight of everything that had happened pressed on her chest. It was like a constant, suffocating ache that wouldn’t go away, no matter how much she tried to ignore it.

The day had been long, with multiple calls and briefings. The usual banter among the crew seemed distant, as if Cass were watching it all unfold through a fogged window instead of participating in it. She hadn’t been able to connect with anyone—not the team, not Hallie, and definitely not Evelyn. It was like she was suspended in an emotional void, a place where nothing felt real anymore.

Her phone buzzed on the table, snapping her out of her spiraling thoughts. Hallie’s name flashed across the screen, and Cass couldn’t help but sigh before answering.

“Hey,” Cass said, trying to keep her voice steady.

“Cass, you okay?” Hallie’s voice was warm, concerned. There was a quiet understanding in it, the kind only a close friend could have.

Cass forced a smile, though Hallie couldn’t see it through the phone. “Yeah. Just…tired. Long shift.”

Hallie didn’t buy it. There was a beat of silence on the other end of the line before Hallie spoke again, her voice quieter now, softer. “You’ve been distant. I get it. But you don’t have to go through this alone.”

“I’m fine,” Cass replied, a little too quickly. She could feel the familiar defensive wall rising inside her, blocking out anything resembling vulnerability.

“Cass, come on. I’ve known you long enough to know when something’s wrong. And you can’t keep bottling everything up. Whatever’s going on, you don’t have to hide it from me,” Hallie said gently, her concern clear.

But Cass only felt more closed off. She didn’t want to talk about it—didn’t want to admit the ache in her chest, the way her thoughts had been consumed by Evelyn ever since the breakup. The way she hadn’t been able to get the image of Evelyn’s eyes—shocked, devastated, cold—out of her head. The way every part of her wanted to reach out, to apologize, to fix what was broken, but pride and anger kept her rooted in place.

“I’m fine, Hallie,” Cass repeated, her voice firm despite the storm brewing inside her. “I’ll talk to you later.”

The line went quiet as Hallie hesitated, sensing the finality in Cass’s tone. “Okay,” Hallie said after a moment, her voice a soft whisper. “But remember, I’m here if you change your mind.”

Cass ended the call quickly, the weight of Hallie’s words hanging heavy in the air. She didn’t want to admit it, but Hallie was right. Something was wrong. And no matter how hard she tried to bury it, it kept resurfacing. The image of Evelyn—the way she’d looked after their argument, the way she’d seemed so hurt by Cass’s words—had become a permanent fixture in her mind.

It wasn’t just the breakup that had torn her apart. It was everything that came with it. Cass had told herself that she had to choose between the firehouse and Evelyn, that one of them would have to go. And now she was left with nothing. Her team was at risk, the future of the department uncertain, and the one person who had made her feel something deeper than duty was no longer a part of her life.

She wanted to scream. She wanted to punch something. But instead, Cass buried herself in her work, throwing herself into training schedules, fire drills, and endless paperwork that never seemed to end. It was easier to focus on something tangible, something she could control. And maybe, just maybe, it would help her forget the wreckage of her own heart.

The days passed in a blur of routine. The firehouse felt emptier without the usual energy, without the tension that had sparked so much between her and Evelyn. Cass tried to push the lingering thoughts of Evelyn out of her mind, but they crept in at the most unexpected moments. During a briefing. While prepping for a call. When she was alone in her office, sitting at her desk. Evelyn’s face haunted her—unbidden, unwelcomed, but undeniable.

The memories—their heated arguments, the passion that had simmered between them, the vulnerability they had both shared in their moments of closeness—only made her feel worse. She had pushed Evelyn away. She had been angry, hurt, and too stubborn to see the whole picture. And now, there was a part of her that regretted it.

But regret didn’t change anything.

Cass stood in front of her team later that afternoon, talking through the schedule for the night shift, but her mind was a million miles away. The words felt foreign in her mouth, a hollow echo of what they used to mean. It was as if she were playing a part in a role she didn’t quite believe in anymore. The firehouse had always been her purpose. But now, the fire inside her was flickering, weakening with every passing day without Evelyn.

The door to the room opened with a soft creak, and Cass instinctively turned her head, her heart leaping into her throat before she could even register who it was. Of course it wasn’t Evelyn. It was Hallie, poking her head inside, looking concerned, as always.

“Cass, can we talk?” Hallie asked, stepping into the room with that same soft concern that had been there during their last conversation.

Cass glanced at her team. They were all focused, their attention diverted. She nodded, stepping away from the briefing to meet Hallie in the hallway.

“I didn’t want to bug you,” Hallie said quietly, once they were out of earshot. “But I can see something’s eating at you. And I know you’re trying to pretend it’s not, but you’re not fooling anyone.”

Cass let out a short, humorless laugh. “You’re the second person who’s said that today,” she muttered, running a hand through her hair. “I’m fine, Hallie. Just trying to get through this shift, okay?”

Hallie raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Cass, listen. I know you’re tough, but that doesn’t mean you have to do everything on your own. If you need to talk, you know I’m here.”

“I just need to focus on the job,” Cass snapped, frustrated with the emotions she couldn’t quite manage. “That’s all. So just drop it.”

Hallie didn’t say anything for a moment, then gently placed a hand on Cass’s arm. “You know I’m not going to drop it, right?” she said, her voice low and understanding. “You can’t just push everything down and expect it to disappear. If it’s about Evelyn, it’s okay to talk about it. You don’t have to pretend like it’s not affecting you. Because it is, and I can see it.”

Cass flinched at the mention of Evelyn, her chest tightening. “I’m done with that,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I made my choice.”

Hallie studied her for a long moment, then finally nodded, stepping back. “Okay. But just remember, you don’t have to go through this alone. Whenever you’re ready to talk, I’ll be here.”

Cass watched her leave, the weight of her words sinking deep inside her. She was right, of course. Cass had tried to bury everything, tried to focus on the firehouse and push aside what had happened with Evelyn. But she couldn’t escape the truth. Even if she refused to admit it, a part of her was still tethered to that connection, still aching for something that had been torn away.

Maybe I made a mistake. The thought floated to the surface, uninvited but impossible to ignore.

But no matter how much she wanted to reach out, no matter how much she wanted to fix everything, she couldn’t. Her pride wouldn’t let her. She had made the decision. She had ended it. And she couldn’t take it back now.

Or could she?

Cass turned her attention back to the firehouse, the noise, the orders, the routine. For now, it was all she had. But deep inside, she knew the fight for both the department and her own heart was far from over.

Cass sat at her desk in the quiet of the firehouse, the distant hum of the station’s activities slipping through the cracks of her awareness. The weight of the morning’s call had long since worn off, but it had been replaced by something heavier, darker. It wasn’t the kind of weight that could be shaken off with a simple drink or a few hours of sleep. No, this was something deep within her—a slow, gnawing realization that she had lost everything.

She had lost Evelyn. That was the most glaring truth. Evelyn, the one person who had entered her life with the force of a storm, turning everything upside down. That moment in the office, the way they had collided felt so intense, so full of potential. Cass had let herself believe that despite the professional tension between them, despite all the walls they had put up, something real had sparked. But she had pushed it all away. She had told herself that it was the right thing to do, that she couldn’t let personal feelings cloud her judgment, not when the future of the department was on the line. She’d convinced herself that she could walk away from it, and now, every moment that passed seemed like another confirmation that she had made a mistake.

Evelyn was gone. The one person who had made her feel alive in a way she hadn’t in years was slipping further away from her with every passing day. The anger, the pride, the bitterness—it had all clouded Cass’s vision. And now, there was nothing left but the hollow ache of regret. Every argument, every sharp word she had thrown at Evelyn had only served to deepen the distance between them.

But that wasn’t all she had lost.

She had lost her team. The people she had come to think of as family. They had always been her top priority—her rock, her responsibility. She had always prided herself on the way she led them, how they trusted her, how she protected them from the dangers of the job and the bureaucracy that threatened to tear them down. But now, Cass couldn’t shake the feeling that she was failing them too. The department was on the verge of collapse. The cuts that Evelyn had insisted on were becoming inevitable.

Every time she saw a disappointed glance from one of her crew members, every time Hallie looked at her with concern, Cass felt like she was letting them down. They depended on her. They needed her to be strong, to be decisive, to stand up for them, and yet here she was, torn apart, lost in a mess of her own making. How could she protect them when she couldn’t even protect herself?

And it wasn’t just the department she was failing; it was the legacy of Chief Becky Thompson. The one person who had mentored her, who had believed in her, even when Cass hadn’t believed in herself. Becky had trusted her to take up the mantle, to keep the department strong, to safeguard everything it stood for. But now, Cass felt like she was betraying her in the worst way possible.

Becky had always been there, steady and unshakeable, an example of what it meant to lead with honor and integrity. And Cass? Cass had been caught up in the mess of her emotions and her personal turmoil, letting everything she cared about slip away.

What would Becky think of me now? The thought clawed at Cass’s mind. She could practically hear Becky’s voice in her head, that steady, no-nonsense tone telling her to snap out of it. To not let her emotions cloud her judgment, to focus on the job, to protect her team. But that was where Cass had failed. She had let her emotions get the better of her, let the pull of something personal distract her from the one thing she had always excelled at: her duty.

She had always believed that she could balance everything and that she could compartmentalize her personal life and her professional life. But now, it seemed so naive. How could she have thought that? How could she have been so blind to the truth—that everything she had worked so hard for could slip through her fingers so easily?

And worst of all, there was the lingering, gnawing fear that she might lose her job. With the cuts coming down the pipeline, with the city breathing down her neck, there was a real chance that her position as captain might be on the line. She had always prided herself on her leadership, but now, with the department in turmoil, with the weight of all these changes, she wasn’t sure if she could hold on. Not if she couldn’t hold it together. Not if she couldn’t make the right decisions when it mattered the most.

The sense of helplessness was suffocating. There were too many things slipping out of her control, too many pieces falling apart. She didn’t even know where to begin picking up the pieces. All she knew was that, right now, she couldn’t see the way forward.

Cass stared out the window, the gray sky reflecting the heavy fog that clouded her mind. The city seemed distant and the streets empty, as though mirroring the emptiness she felt inside. She had tried so hard to be strong, to do the right thing, but now it felt like everything she had built was crumbling beneath her feet.

The station felt different these past few days—heavier, quieter. Her team had noticed the tension, though no one dared to ask what was wrong. They probably thought it was just the stress of the budget cuts looming over them, but Cass knew better.

The truth was, she was unraveling.

Her fingers drummed against the edge of her desk, the rhythm uneven, like her thoughts. She hadn’t spoken to Evelyn since their fight, hadn’t even seen her. Every time her phone buzzed, her stomach clenched, half-hoping it was Evelyn reaching out, half-hoping it wasn’t. She’d buried herself in work, thinking if she stayed busy enough, she could avoid the gnawing ache in her chest. It wasn’t working.

Cass leaned back in her chair, running a hand over her face. She felt raw, like an exposed nerve. The anger she’d felt that day had cooled, but it left behind something worse: doubt. She replayed the argument over and over in her mind, dissecting every word, every look, every pause.

Had she overreacted?

Part of her wanted to believe she hadn’t. Evelyn had pushed for those cuts, knowing full well what they meant for the department. For her. Cass had every right to be furious. And yet…she couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that maybe, just maybe, she hadn’t let Evelyn explain. Hadn’t given her the benefit of the doubt.

Her pride bristled at the thought. She didn’t owe Evelyn anything, did she? After all, Evelyn was the one making decisions that put their team at risk. Evelyn was the one who had chosen to prioritize her job over their fragile, burgeoning connection.

But then Cass’s gaze shifted to the framed photo on her desk—the team gathered in front of the station, all smiles and camaraderie. Her family. Her responsibility.

She exhaled a shaky breath, the weight of it all pressing down on her. She was supposed to protect them, to fight for them. And she was doing that, wasn’t she? Pushing back against Evelyn, standing her ground, refusing to let the department be gutted?

But what if her anger had clouded her judgment? What if there was another way forward, but she’d been too stubborn, too hurt to see it?

Cass hated this feeling—this uncertainty, this vulnerability. She’d always prided herself on being decisive, on knowing exactly where she stood and what needed to be done. But now, everything felt tangled and messy. She couldn’t separate her feelings for Evelyn from her anger over the cuts, couldn’t untangle her frustration with the system from the ache of losing whatever it was they’d started to build together.

She glanced out the window, watching as a couple of her firefighters walked across the lot, laughing about something. A pang of guilt twisted in her chest. They were counting on her. Every single one of them trusted her to stand up for them, to make sure they had what they needed to do their jobs safely.

And what have I done ? She’d let her emotions get the better of her, stormed out, and slammed the door on Evelyn without even hearing her out. Now, days later, she wasn’t any closer to a solution.

Cass leaned forward, resting her elbows on the desk and burying her face in her hands. She felt the familiar sting of tears threatening to spill and clenched her jaw against it. She didn’t cry—not here, not where someone might walk in and see her.

But the pressure in her chest wouldn’t ease, and the memories wouldn’t leave her alone. She thought of Evelyn’s face during their fight, the flash of something like hurt in her eyes, quickly masked by her usual calm exterior. Cass had been so angry, so sure of Evelyn’s betrayal that she hadn’t stopped to think about how it might feel for her.

She hated how Evelyn could get under her skin like this, how she could make her doubt herself, make her question everything.

But what Cass hated most was the thought that maybe—just maybe—she’d let her pride ruin something that could’ve been good.

And Evelyn—god, Evelyn—would never forgive her. She knew that now. Cass had pushed her away when she should have held on. She had thrown away something precious, something that had meant more to her than she had been willing to admit.

But what could she have done? Cass didn’t have the answers. All she knew was that it was too late now. Evelyn was gone, and she couldn’t fix what she had broken. The firehouse was teetering on the edge of disaster, and Cass didn’t know if she could pull it back from the brink.

What would Becky say to her now? Would she be proud of the choices Cass had made? Or would she see Cass for what she truly was: someone who had let everything slip away because she was too weak to make the hard choices?

Cass felt a tightness in her chest, a lump rising in her throat. She had failed. And she couldn’t shake the feeling that there was no coming back from this.

She stood up abruptly, pacing back and forth in her office, as if moving would somehow push the thoughts away. But nothing would. She couldn’t outrun the truth. It was right here, pressing in on her, crushing her from all sides.

Cass had tried to do the right thing. She had tried to be the captain her team needed, the leader that Becky had always seen in her. But somewhere along the way, she had lost her way. And now, she had nothing left to show for it but failure.

Her heart ached with the weight of it. She had lost everything.

And the worst part? She had no idea how to fix it.