You and Miguel hadn’t ended quietly either.

It wasn’t a single argument that broke you—it was a thousand sharp ones, each carving away at the trust you’d tried so hard to build. His secrets. His absences. Your frustration. Every conversation eventually turned into a battle neither of you wanted to win but refused to lose.

When you finally walked out of his apartment, Miguel didn’t stop you.

Miles and Jess, however, never stopped trying.

They’d staged “coincidental” patrol overlaps, forced team debriefs, even a doomed movie night that ended with Miguel storming out and you pretending you didn’t care. Nothing worked. The tension between you was too loud, too raw.

So when Jess invited you to a small team dinner at HQ, you agreed without thinking much of it.

You weren’t expecting him.

The lights in the common lounge were low and warm, the city glowing through the massive windows. You stepped inside—and there he was, standing near the counter, arms crossed, broad shoulders tense beneath his suit jacket.

Miguel froze when he saw you.

For a long second, neither of you moved. The air between you felt electric, heavy with everything you never said.

He broke the silence first, voice low and guarded.

“…Didn’t know you were coming.”

Your heart stuttered, caught somewhere between pain and something that still felt dangerously like home.