They say a watched pot never boils. But is that really true?

It’s gotta do it eventually, right? There’s only so much heat water can take before it starts rising and popping until it finally cascades over the sides of the pot and spills piping hot liquid all over your stove top. Realistically, it makes more sense to keep one eye on a pot at all times just in case.

Because eventually…

I take a handful of uncooked spaghetti and break the strands in two before dropping them into the pot. The sticks descend beneath the surface, getting lost in the sea of deadly bubbles.

A knock echoes from the front door. I feel the usual spike of excitement but I find myself keeping an eye on the stove as I walk across the room to open it.

I smile at Lance. He smiles back, his nose instantly tilting upward as he smells the air.

“So, that’s what I’ve been smelling since I walked into the lobby,” he says.

“Is that good or bad?” I ask.

“Good,” he answers, walking forward. “Very, very good. What is that?”

“Sauteed guanciale.”

He rests a hand on my cheek and draws my head up. “Well, whatever that is, I want it inside of me,” he says.

I close my eyes, immersing myself in the moment. Our lips fit together. He himself smells so good. His touch on my cheek sends shivers down my spine.

“Uh-oh,” he says, looking over my head. “The pot.”

I turn around. A large, white cloud of boiling water reaches the top of the pot.

I rush to lower the heat before it gets worse and the water level drops without boiling over.

“Sorry I distracted you,” Lance says with a laugh.

“It’s all right,” I say. “No harm done.”

I stir the pasta, now easily bending and twisting with the shape of the pot. I move the skillet with the guanciale to the back to keep it from burning.

Lance comes up behind me and wraps an arm around my waist. “White wine,” he says, holding up the bottle.

I take it from him with a smile. “A good one, too.”

His lips touch my neck from behind. “Only the best for you.”

He curls his other arm over my chest and pulls me closer in a nice, loving embrace. Again, I close my eyes. Feeling it. Treasuring it.

Because eventually…

“You okay?” he asks.

I exhale. “Yeah. Why?”

“You seem stiff.” He kisses my shoulder.

“I’m fine.” I set the wine on the counter. “So, what have you been up to today?” I ask.

His arms drop away. “Working,” he answers. “Wine glasses?”

I point to the cabinet over our heads. “Up there. Might be a bit dusty, though.”

He reaches up to look for them and I bite my lip in hesitation before speaking again.

“Anything special happen at work?” I ask.

Lance pulls two glasses down from the cupboard. “I thought we weren’t going to talk about the case,” he says.

I shrug. “Just… curious, I guess.”

“Not much to report.”

“No?”

He pauses and eyes me for a moment. “Why?”

I set my wooden spoon aside and clear my throat. “I heard from a friend that, uh… you were at a kink club today.”

Lance blinks. “Since when are you calling Marcus a friend?”

“Marcus?” I turn to face him. “What do you mean?”

“What do you mean?” he repeats.

“Clive told Nora and Nora told me that you went to Red Brick to talk to Judy. What does Marcus have to do with anything?”

“Well…” His voice falls as he breathes out.

“Well?” I ask. “Lance, spit it out.”

“Okay…” He stands a little taller. “It’s not what you think.”

“I honestly don’t know what to think right now.”

“I went there to investigate a lead for the case, all right?” he says. “The owner has a business relationship with your dad. I went to talk with her. On the way out, Marcus intercepted me and we had a friendly chat. That’s all.”

“A friendly chat about what? And what lead? My family’s business with Judy has nothing to do with what you’re putting my father away for. My brothers oversee that stuff now anyway—”

I stop as his eyes turn downward.

My brothers?

I cross my arms. “Lance, what did you do?” I ask.

He inhales, then hesitates. “Trix…”

I take a step back, putting a little distance between us. “Why did you take this case?” I ask, Marcus’ warning echoing in the back of my head.

“What do you mean?” he asks.

“I mean… my father’s case. Why did you take it?”

“It was a big deal,” he says, delaying his words. “I wanted to be a part of it.”

“Why?”

“Trix—”

“Answer the question, Lance.”

He exhales, taking a moment. “The State’s Attorney is retiring this year.”

“So?”

“So… I want that job.”

I gawk at him. “And you thought taking down Angelo Argento would help your chances? Who do you think got the last guy elected?”

He leans back an inch. “What?”

“Lance…” I breathe in deep, “I was fine with us when your case was just about my father, but… now you’re going after my brothers? When were you going to tell me about this?”

“No work-no family, remember?” he says. “I didn’t bring it up because you didn’t want to hear about it.”

I pause, my limbs trembling with doubt.

He steps closer and lays a hand on my arm. “Trix, you left them.”

“I know,” I say.

“You didn’t want to be a part of that world anymore and for good reason.”

“I know.”

“Then, whose side are you on?” he asks.

“I’m not on anyone’s side, Lance.”

“Pick one.”

I blink. “Excuse me?”

“Pick a side,” he says. “Are you with me or are you with the guy who tried to rape you?”

My jaw drops. “Did you really just ask me that?”

“Why are you protecting them?” he asks.

“Because they’re my family!” I say. “I don’t agree with them. We have our differences but I don’t hate them. I don’t want to stand by and watch while my lover throws them in prison. What about that is so difficult for you to understand?”

He drops his hand from my arm. “What am I to you, Trix?” he asks. “Because right now, I’m not feeling like much more than a warm bed to you.”

“That’s not fair.” I shake my head. “You know what you mean to me.”

“A fresh start,” he quotes. “Yeah, I remember, but so far, all I’m seeing of this fresh start is you making every excuse in the world to stand by them no matter what.”

“Okay. What am I to you, Lance?” I ask back. “What did you think was going to happen when I found out?”

“I thought you were better than them,” he says. “I guess I was wrong.”

I swallow hard, forcing my tears down for a second longer. “Lance, drop this. Please. Leave them alone.”

“No,” he says.

He didn’t even hesitate. He just stares at me with those hard, determined eyes. He’s going to go through with this whether I’m with him or not.

“Then…” My eyes burn. “I guess we’re done here.”

Lance inhales as if he’s about to say something but his mouth stays closed. We both stand still, our gazes falling away from the other’s eyes, waiting for the other to speak up and save this…

Is this really it? Is this how it ends?

“Okay,” he finally says.

My heart leaps with hope. “Okay?” I ask.

“You’re right,” he says with a nod. “This can’t work. It was never…” He flexes his jaw as he looks at me. “We’re done.”

I catch a tear before it falls, quickly wiping it away from my cheek as I hold my breath.

“Okay,” I say, unable to think of anything else.

He turns away and takes several slow steps toward the door. My heart lurches, begging me to do or say something to make him stay but my head has completely taken over. I know it’s the most rational thing. I understand the logic.

But it still hurts.

Lance opens the door and pauses. His eyes linger on the floor between us and for a moment it seems like he’ll stop. I even picture it.

He slams the door and races back over to kiss me and I leap into his arms as our lips touch and—

“Goodbye, Trix,” he says from the doorway.

I force my lips not to shake. “Goodbye, Lance,” I say, my voice breaking.

He walks out without another word, taking my chance at a fresh start along with him.

My ears twitch at the sudden hiss on the stove top. I glance over and watch as pasta water rolls over the sides but I don’t move. I just stare at it until the tears in my eyes do the same.

Eventually, right?