Basia noticed the change before she even realized she was noticing it. The house felt strangely still that morning—quiet in a way that made her pause as she stepped into the kitchen.
Then she saw it.
Willow’s lunch sat untouched on the counter, exactly where Basia left it for her every morning. But Willow never forgot it. Not once in the three years they’d been married. Forgetting something so routine meant only one thing: something big was happening today.
Basia frowned, picking up the container. Willow was steady, almost mechanical with her habits. A lifetime on the police force had drilled precision into her, maybe too much. It was how she coped—with the job, with her past, with emotions she didn’t quite know how to hold. Basia loved her fiercely, but loving Willow often meant learning to read the silence between her breaths.
And today, the silence felt different.
Basia grabbed her keys.
The precinct buzzed with a tense energy the moment she walked through the doors. Officers hurried back and forth, voices low and urgent. Basia hugged Willow’s lunchbox to her chest, suddenly feeling out of place.
Officer Ramirez glanced up from the front desk. “Basia? Everything alright?”
“Willow forgot this,” she said, lifting the box. “Is she here?”
Ramirez hesitated. “Yeah. She’s in a briefing. Big case. She’s… under a lot of pressure today.”
Basia’s worry sharpened.
She didn’t have to wait long. The briefing room door opened, and Willow stepped out—shoulders stiff, eyes distant, jaw tight. Basia could always tell when the job was wearing at her, even if Willow insisted she was fine.
Willow stopped short when she saw her. “Basia? What are you doing here?”
“You forgot your lunch.” Basia offered a small smile. “That’s not like you.”
For a moment, Willow’s expression softened—just a crack in the armor. “Thank you,” she said quietly, taking it from her. Their fingers brushed, and Basia felt how cold Willow’s hands were.
“Is everything okay?” Basia asked.
Willow hesitated. “I can’t talk about it. But it’s important.”
Before Basia could ask more, someone called for Willow from down the hall. Willow gave her a look—tired, apologetic, a little haunted—before turning away.
As Basia watched her disappear back into the briefing room, a small knot formed in her chest.
Whatever this case was, it was big enough to make Willow forget something she never did.
And big enough to make Basia wish she’d brought more than just lunch.