Page 56 of Phoenix Rising

"Hey," Becky replied, unsure of what to say.

They stood in silence for a moment, the day's chaos finally fading into the background. Becky could feel the tension between them, the unspoken words that lingered, waiting to be said.

"I…," Lucinda started, then paused, biting her lip. She looked away, her usual confidence faltering. "I’ve been thinking a lot."

Becky’s heart clenched. She had been waiting for this conversation for weeks, but now that it was here, she wasn’t sure she was ready. "About what?"

"About us." "Yeah?" Becky said, keeping her voice steady.

Lucinda took a deep breath, her gaze finally meeting Becky’s. "I messed up. I thought I couldkeep everything in control, but I couldn’t. I thought pushing you away was the right thing to do because I didn’t know how to…I don't know! How to let go? How to let you in? How to let you help me? But…"

Becky flexed her fingers, the vulnerability in Lucinda’s voice cutting through her like a knife.

She continued, "I miss you so fucking much. I've never missed anyone like this before. I haven't given anyone a second thought, but you have consumed me. I'm sorry for shutting you out. I...Jesus." Lucinda rubbed her face, smearing dirt on her cheeks. "I got scared that I wouldn't be able to control every little thing that happened between us. I didn't want you to eventually find out I'm some cold-hearted bitch, even though I know you never thought that in the first place." She sighed. "I want...I need you, Becky. I'm sorry."

Becky couldn't quite believe what her ears were hearing. This was everything she had wanted Lucinda to say. All Becky had wanted was for Lucinda to talk to her. To rely on her.

"You don’t have to do everything alone, Lucinda," Becky said softly, taking a step closer. "You never had to."

Lucinda’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears, and for the first time, she didn’t try to hide them.

"I don’t know if I’m ready," Lucinda whispered, her voice shaking slightly. "But I know I don’t want to keep running."

Becky reached out, gently taking Lucinda’s hand. It was a small gesture, but it felt like a step toward something bigger.

"You don’t have to," Becky said quietly, her thumb brushing against Lucinda’s knuckles. "We’ll take our time. I'll actually take you out on a date instead of kissing you in my office. We'll do things however you need to as long as you keep me in the loop."

Lucinda’s fingers tightened around Becky’s, and for the first time in months, Becky felt a flicker of hope.

"Okay," Lucinda said into Becky's coat. Her voice was fragile.

Lucinda pressed her face into Becky's shoulder. Becky's arms wrapped around her, her heart no longer empty from Lucinda's absence.

Maybe they could find their way back to each other. Maybe, just maybe, they could start again.

16

LUCINDA

Lucinda leaned against the kitchen counter, fingers tracing the rim of her coffee mug, lost in thought. Two weeks had passed since she and Becky had agreed to give their relationship another chance, but this time, they were taking it slow. Really slow. After everything that had happened—the breakup, the time apart, the awkward reunion—they both knew they needed to rebuild what they had piece by piece, not rush headfirst into something fragile.

Becky had always been the kind of person to act decisively, her life as a firefighter shaping her into someone who thrived in high-pressure situations. She was used to making quick decisions, running into burning buildings without hesitation,and sorting out the chaos later. In their relationship, it had been no different. When they'd first fallen for each other, things had moved fast. Lucinda had been swept up in the intensity, in the warmth of Becky’s love and certainty. But as the months went on, Lucinda had pulled back, scared of how fast her world was spinning out of control.

She sipped her coffee, the warmth of it spreading through her, grounding her in the present. These last two weeks had been different. There was a quietness now, a patience that hadn’t been there before. They hadn’t talked about the future, hadn’t made any grand declarations or plans. It was like they were learning each other all over again—cautious, tentative, but with the same magnetic pull they’d always had.

Lucinda smiled faintly, remembering the first time they’d seen each other after agreeing to start over. It had been a simple meeting: coffee at the same café they had broken things off. Becky had been nervous, which was unusual for her. Her hands had fidgeted with her cup, her usual easy confidence replaced with an uncertainty that made Lucinda’s heart ache.

“How are you feeling about all this?” Becky had asked, her voice low and hesitant.

Lucinda had taken a breath before answering. “I don’t want to mess this up again.”

That had been the theme since then—honesty. They were careful with each other. It was as though they both knew how fragile they were, how easily everything could break if they pushed too hard, too fast.

They had been spending more time together, but it wasn’t like before. Instead of passionate nights spent tangled in each other’s arms, they were rediscovering the small things, sharing quiet dinners, going for walks, and talking about their days. It wasn’t the whirlwind romance it had once been. It was easy, deliberate, intentional.

Lucinda set her mug down, thinking about last night. Becky had come over, and they’d spent hours sitting on the couch watching a movie neither of them had been particularly interested in. They’d sat close, but not touching, the distance between them palpable. At one point, Becky had shifted, her arm brushing against Lucinda’s, and for a moment, Lucinda had felt that old, familiar spark, the one that made her want to forget all the reasons they were supposed to be careful and just fall back into Becky’s arms.

But she hadn’t. They hadn’t.

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