I had no idea what the fuck I was doing right now. Sarah, in no way shape or form, ever gave me so much as a clue that she wasn’t okay, or that she wanted me to show up on her door to check on her. Yet here I was, at her door, with every intention of checking on her. There had been something in her eyes as we said our goodbyes this evening that had stuck with me.

Something haunting.

Seeing Liz like that had been scarring, but I was kind of used to the horrible things people did to one another by now. I’d seen too much shit. Arrested too many monsters.

In a way, I was numb to the horrors I witnessed every day—I had to be to move on with my day. If I let the horrors of the world affect me, I wouldn’t be able to do my job calmly and efficiently. I never lost my cool, would never hesitate to take a shot if I had to, and never took a shot when I didn’t. In any situation, I knew what to do, and when to do it.

I took pride in that.

But seeing that look in Sarah’s eyes…it had set me straight on my ass. There had been something there, something hidden in those deep brown depths, that I’d been unable to ignore.

So. Here I was.

Shifting the six pack I carried into my other hand, I knocked softly three times. It was early still, only eight at night, but most of the lights were off in the house. Was she sleeping already? Footsteps sounded, and I felt her presence on the other side of the door.

Yes, that’s right. Felt.

After such a long pause that I was sure she was going to pretend she hadn’t heard me knock, the door unlocked with a click, and she opened it. “Rollins? What are you doing here? Is something wrong?”

Guess it had been too much to hope that her slip up with my first name would be permanent. “No, nothing’s wrong. I just…”

When I didn’t continue, she cocked her head adorably. She wore a pair of pajama pants with ducks on them, pink socks, and a strappy tank top that matched the yellow ducks. “You just what?”

Something told me if I admitted that I was worried that the case from earlier might have made her uneasy, due to her past with her ex, she would freeze up and push me out. I knew her as well as I knew myself, despite the years we’d been apart, so I didn’t want to say that. Instead, I settled for a different version of the truth. “We started off on the wrong foot.”

She crossed her arms and leaned on the door jamb, watching me from under her lowered lids. Jesus, her lashes were that long without makeup? “You mean, like when you said, and I quote, ‘Hell no, I’m not being her partner. Pick someone else.’ Is that what you’re referring to?”

Wincing, I nodded. “Yes. That.”

“Forgiven.”

It was my turn to cock my head. “Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

I snorted. “Yeah. Okay.”

“This was fun, thanks for stopping by.” She stepped back into the house and started to close the door in my face. “Buh-bye—”

“Wait.”

She blew out a breath and pushed her dark brown, almost black, hair off her shoulder. “What?”

“I brought you beer.” I lifted my hand. “And takeout.”

She frowned, staring at me. “Why…?”

The way she looked at my hand, as if she expected the food to jump out and pounce on her, made me stiffen. Had I been that much of a prick to her that she didn’t even trust a meal coming from me? “Like I said, we started off on the wrong foot. I’d like to step forward on the right one this time. May I?”

She stared at me for so long I was starting to wonder if she’d been frozen in time. After what felt like a million years, she said, “Why are you doing this?”

“Do I have to have a reason?” I asked quietly, knowing damn well I did.

After all, I’d made it very clear I wanted nothing to do with her from the moment she’d stepped foot in my precinct.

She stepped back outside and crossed her arms. “Yeah. Start with why you’re acting like I’m the one who messed up all those years ago.”

“You left me without telling me—” I started, exasperation taking over any attempts I had at remaining calm and detached. I cut myself off, swallowing hard. Yes, she’d left me behind without an explanation, and yes, I’d loved her much more than she’d loved me, but that didn’t change anything about here and now. She was my partner, for better or for worse, and it was time we both accepted it. End of story. “I mean, we both know what happened back then. That’s not what matters, what matters is here and now.”

“Yes, we do know what happened.” She glanced behind her, nodded once, closed the door, then faced me. She squared her shoulders and pressed her mouth into a thin line, looking at me like she was ready to do battle. She wanted to fight? Fine, we’d fight. But I had no intention of losing. Not this time. “You cheated on me.”

My jaw dropped, then I stepped closer. Out of all the things I expected her to say, it wasn’t a blatant lie like that. “I did what?”

“You.” She poked my chest, voluntarily touching me for the first time since she came back to town. “Cheated.” A small push. I planted my feet so I didn’t budge, which only seemed to annoy her more. “On.” Another poke to the chest, harder this time. “Me.”

Snarling under my breath, I caught her wrist. And I didn’t let go. “The hell I did.”

“Don’t deny it.” She tried to tug free, but I didn’t budge. “I saw you.”

“You saw nothing,” I snarled, stepping closer, towering over her with my six-foot-three frame. She drew in a breath and held it as her nostrils flared slightly. “Because I never cheated on you. Why would I have? I had everything I wanted.”

She tried to pull free again. It didn’t work. “No one ever has everything they ever wanted.”

“Yes, they do.” I stepped even closer. So close, that I could smell her perfume. She still wore the same damn scent she’d worn when she had been mine. It was like a slap to the face, considering what she was accusing me of. “I did.”

She shook her head and stepped back, only to hit the front door, so it didn't do her much good. “Why are you denying it? It was years ago. It’s not like we’re ever getting together again.”

“I’m denying it because I didn’t fucking do it.” I tried my best to keep my voice down. But it was hard. The fact that she believed her lies…

It was infuriating.

For the first time since she started accusing me of this horrible thing, she looked confused. Uncertain. “I saw you in bed with Tiffany Thorne.”

I laughed. Straight up laughed. She was a fool. An utter, complete, beautiful, naïve fool. “Tiffany?”

“Yes. Tiffany.”

Shaking my head, I closed the distance between us, not giving a damn about personal space. “You mean Tiffany, who’s gay, and has literally no interest in men? That Tiffany?”

Her jaw fell open, closed, and opened again. “What?”

“Yeah. She’s gay. She’d be more likely to be caught in bed with you.”

“I would have known,” she protested.

“No, you wouldn’t have. No one knew but me. She trusted me with her secret, and we used to hang out a lot at parties because girls would leave me alone when she was with me, and I never had to worry about her falling for me, or getting the wrong idea. Because all I wanted was you.” I flexed my jaw. “That night, you were working, and she needed a wingman, so I went. She met up with someone at the party we went to, got lucky, and I gave her my bed to use, because she really liked her.”

“So, then, your bed…”

“Wasn’t mine that night.” I swallowed hard, locking eyes with her. “You walked away from me without a word for nothing, and that’s why I blame you.”

She said nothing.

Good. There was nothing to say.