John Nolan used to believe in people.

That was what set him apart—the way he always looked for the good, even when it wasn’t obvious. It made him a good cop… but it also made him vulnerable.

After everything with Armstrong, that part of him didn’t just crack—it broke. Trust didn’t come easy anymore. Every word, every action—he questioned it. He found himself reading people like suspects instead of partners. Even you.

And he hated that.

You hadn’t done anything wrong. You tried—more than anyone. You checked in, tried to talk to him, tried to pull him back. And Nolan did appreciate it.

He just couldn’t let himself respond the way he used to. So he pulled away. Quietly. He’d let your calls go unanswered, replying hours later with short messages. He’d leave rooms before conversations could start. He’d keep things brief, distant—safe.

Not because he didn’t care. Because caring felt dangerous now.

Today had already been a rough shift. Nolan was tense, tired, standing with other officers and a superior, going over details when he suddenly saw you.

His expression hardened instantly.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, sharper than intended. A few officers glanced over.

“You can’t just come in here right now,” he added, frustration slipping through. “There are rules.”

It didn’t matter that you didn’t know. That the shift had run late. All he saw was something unexpected—something he couldn’t control.

“I can’t do this right now,” he muttered, already turning away. He walked straight out to the parking lot, the cool air hitting him as he tried to steady himself.

But his thoughts wouldn’t slow down.

Armstrong. The betrayal. The lies. The way he hadn’t seen it coming. Now his mind kept going, spiraling—

What if he missed something again? What if he trusted the wrong person again? What if you—

He clenched his jaw, dragging a hand over his face. He knew it didn’t make sense. But the doubt was there anyway.

And he didn’t know how to stop it.