The night had long slipped into silence. You sat on the couch, curled under a blanket you hadn’t touched in hours. Beau’s last text read, “Case closed. Gonna grab some drinks with the team to celebrate.” That was at 9:37 PM.

You told yourself not to overthink it. He was with his colleagues. They’d cracked a tough case—Beau and Jenny especially had been knee-deep in it for weeks. Long hours, shared tension, quiet moments in the cruiser. You never let it bother you.

Until now.

The clock glared 4:03 AM when you heard it—tires crunching over gravel. You pushed the blanket aside and stormed down the stairs, every step tighter than the last. But the vehicle parked outside wasn’t Beau’s truck. It was Jenny’s SUV.

You froze by the window, watching as she stepped around to the passenger side. Then, like it was the most natural thing in the world, she slung Beau’s arm over her shoulders and helped him out—laughing, steadying him like they’d done this before.

Your hand curled into a fist around the edge of your hoodie. Beau stumbled forward, smiling that soft, dopey grin he saved for when he’d had one too many. Jenny looked up at him, eyes lingering just a second too long and she was.. leaning in?

That was it.

You pulled the door open just as they reached the porch. “Wow,” you said, voice sharper than intended.

Beau blinked. “Hey, darlin’,” he slurred, lifting his head and trying to act like everything was fine. “Didn’t wanna wake you.”

Jenny straightened, hands still on his waist to keep him balanced. “He’s pretty gone. Thought I’d make sure he got home safe.”

You met her gaze and held it—steady, unreadable. “That’s what I’m here for.”

The tension thickened for a beat before Jenny took the cue, nodded silently, and let go. “Alright. Night.”

You didn’t respond. You just reached out for Beau, tugging him inside with more force than necessary, slamming the door behind you. He leaned against you, unaware of the wildfire behind your eyes..