a/n: Welp this is the last chapter I hope you guys like it!
Paige barely remembered the drive over.
One moment she had been on the phone with Azzi, keys already in her hand, and the next she was pulling into the hospital parking lot with her heart racing so fast it made her feel sick. Azzi's voice had been calm—too calm—and that was what scared her the most.
Come to the hospital, right now.
Azzi wouldn't say something like that unless something was wrong.
She pushed through the front doors and moved quickly down the hallway, her steps echoing against the floor as her thoughts spiraled faster with every second. She kept replaying it in her head, trying to figure out what could have changed in just a few hours. When she turned the corner toward her father's room, she saw Azzi standing outside the door, not crying, not pacing, not even tense—just standing there, waiting.
Paige slowed as she approached her, confusion mixing with the panic that hadn't quite left her yet. "What happened?" she asked immediately. "Is he okay?"
Azzi looked at her for a moment, like she was trying to read how much Paige could handle all at once, and then something softened in her expression. "He's okay," she said.
Paige frowned. "Then why did you tell me to come like that?"
Azzi stepped closer, her voice gentler now. "Because I needed you to see it for yourself."
Paige's confusion deepened, but she didn't argue. Azzi reached for her hand and gave it a small, reassuring squeeze before guiding her toward the door. "Come on."
BOB'S ROOM — MOMENTS LATER
Paige walked into the room still bracing for something to be wrong, but nothing looked different. Her dad was sitting up in bed, flipping through channels on the TV like it was any normal day. When he looked over and saw her, his face lit up with easy surprise.
"Hey," he said. "That was fast."
Paige stared at him, searching his face for any sign that something had changed. "Are you okay?"
Bob raised an eyebrow, trying to act confused but smirking a little. "Yeah… I'm okay. Why wouldn't I be?"
Paige turned back to Azzi. "Okay, I'm missing something. What's going on?"
Azzi didn't answer right away. She picked up a chart from the table beside the bed and handed it to Paige. "Read it."
Paige took it, her eyes moving quickly over the page at first, not really processing anything until something caught her attention and forced her to slow down. She read the line again, then the next one, her brows furrowing as she flipped the page and scanned more carefully this time.
"That doesn't make sense," she said under her breath.
She looked up at Azzi, her expression uncertain. "This says the tumor—"
"Was misdiagnosed," Azzi finished for her.
"The original results were wrong," Azzi said. "He still has cancer, but it's early stage. It's treatable."
Paige stared at her, like she was trying to decide if she'd heard her right. "…You're serious?"
Azzi nodded, a small smile forming despite herself. "Chemo, maybe some radiation, but his prognosis is good. Really good."
Paige looked back down at the chart, then up at her dad, then back at Azzi again, like she needed to see all three of them to believe it. "He's… going to be okay?" she asked, her voice quieter now.
Azzi's expression softened. "Yeah. He is."
For a second, Paige didn't move. Then the breath she'd been holding since she got the call finally left her, shaky and uneven, and she let out a quiet laugh that didn't quite sound like laughter at all. "Oh my god," she whispered.
She dropped the chart onto the chair and crossed the room in two steps, wrapping her arms around her dad and holding onto him tightly. "You're okay," she said, her voice breaking as she pressed her face into his shoulder. "You're actually okay."
Bob's arms came up around her, holding her just as tightly. "All thanks to Dr. Fudd," he said quietly.
Paige laughed again, wiping at her face as she pulled back. "That's all you have to say?"
"I had a whole speech ready," he admitted. "Kind of useless now."
"Good," she said, her voice still shaking. "You're not allowed to use it."
Bob smiled faintly. "I wasn't that attached to it anyway."
Paige rested her forehead against his for a second, just taking in the fact that he was here, that he was okay, that she wasn't about to lose him. Then she pulled back and turned toward Azzi, walking straight to her and pulling her into a hug without hesitating.
Azzi froze for a brief second, caught off guard, before she relaxed into it and held her back.
"You caught it," Paige said quietly against her shoulder. "You figured it out."
Azzi shook her head lightly. "I just double-checked."
Paige huffed out a small laugh. "Yeah. And that saved him."
Azzi didn't argue with her, well cus there would be no point.
Azzi stepped out of Bob's room with the file still in her hands, her expression no longer soft or relieved but sharp and focused, and Paige noticed it immediately.
"What is it?" she asked, following her into the hallway.
Azzi didn't slow down. "Who was his primary before me?"
"The doctor who handled his case before I took over," Azzi clarified, already scanning the chart again as she walked. "Do you know who it was?"
Paige shook her head. "No, I didn't really— I just met whoever was on shift."
Azzi exhaled through her nose, clearly irritated now. "Okay."
A nurse was passing by, and Azzi stopped her. "Hey," she said, already flipping the chart open. "Do you know who was assigned to Bob Bueckers before his case was transferred to me?"
The nurse leaned in slightly, scanning the file. "Uh… yeah, give me a second." She pointed at a name. "Dr. Derek. He was overseeing the diagnostics."
Azzi's jaw tightened, and Paige noticed the shift immediately. "Derek?" Azzi repeated, like she already knew the answer but needed to hear it out loud.
The nurse nodded. "Yeah. He handled the initial testing and report."
Azzi let out a short, humorless laugh under her breath. "Of course he did."
Azzi snapped the file shut. "Nothing."
But it very clearly wasn't nothing. She turned and started walking again, this time faster.
"Where are you going?" Paige asked, hurrying after her.
The way she said it made Paige's stomach twist slightly.
HOSPITAL STAFF ROOM —(PAIGE'S POV)
Azzi pushed the door open without knocking, and the energy in the room shifted immediately like she'd brought a storm in with her. Paige hung back near the doorway, arms crossed, watching as a few scattered staff members glanced up from their phones and coffee mugs before quickly looking away, sensing that whatever was about to happen wasn't meant for an audience. But Paige wasn't looking at any of them. Her attention snagged on the guy leaning against the counter like he owned the place, all easy posture and a smile that looked way too practiced.
And then it clicked. The staff room from weeks ago, the guy who'd asked Azzi to dinner, the one who'd looked at her like she was a prize he was trying to win. Paige had forgotten his face, but now it was coming back in vivid detail—the casual way he'd leaned on the table, the way his eyes had swept over Azzi like he was cataloging her, the way Azzi had shut him down without even blinking. That was this guy. The one who'd been trying to get in Azzi's pants while Paige was standing right there, which felt like a lifetime ago and also like yesterday.
She didn't say anything. Didn't react. Just tucked her hands into her pockets and leaned against the doorframe, her face carefully blank, because there was no way she was going to let this guy see that she even vaguely remembered his existence.
"Well," he said, pushing off the counter with that same infuriating grin, "look who it is. Welcome back. I've missed you greatly."
Azzi didn't smile. Didn't even blink. She walked straight up to him like he was an obstacle she needed to move past and held out the file without a word. "Read it."
Derek's grin faltered for just a second before he tried to recover, letting out a little laugh like she was joking. "Wow, no hello? No 'how have you been, Derek'? I'm hurt."
"Read it," Azzi said again, and her voice was sharper this time, the kind of sharp that made the nurse by the coffee machine suddenly very interested in her phone.
Paige watched from the doorway, her expression unchanged, but something hot and petty flickered in her chest when Derek finally took the file and started flipping through it. She remembered how he'd looked at Azzi that day in the staff room, like he couldn't understand why she wasn't falling over herself to say yes to him, and she remembered the way Azzi had dismissed him like he wasn't even worth the effort of a real rejection. It was satisfying then, but it was even more satisfying now, watching him realize that whatever he thought he had with Azzi was never going to exist.
Derek's smile was completely gone now, replaced by a furrow in his brow as he flipped back and forth between pages. "What is this?" he asked, and his voice had lost its easy charm, replaced by something tighter, more defensive.
"It's your patient," Azzi said flatly. "Your diagnosis."
Derek shook his head, still staring at the file like it might change if he looked at it long enough. "No, I—this isn't what I—"
"It's wrong," Azzi cut him off, and Paige could hear the restrained anger underneath her words, the kind that came from someone who had spent too long cleaning up other people's messes. "The staging, the progression, the entire prognosis. You marked it as advanced when it's early stage."
The room had gone completely quiet now, the kind of quiet that made the buzzing of the fluorescent lights feel deafening. Paige stayed where she was, still leaning against the doorframe, still watching, still not letting anything show on her face even though her stomach was doing something complicated that she refused to name.
Derek finally looked up at Azzi, his expression shifting from confusion to defensiveness. "Tests don't just get it that wrong."
"They did," Azzi said, holding his gaze. "Or you did."
Paige felt a small, vindictive thrill at the way Derek's jaw tightened "I followed protocol," Derek said, his voice clipped. "The scans, the reports—everything pointed to—"
"And it still came out wrong?" Azzi interrupted, and her voice was quieter now but somehow more dangerous, she didn't need to yell to make her point.
Paige pushed off the doorframe and took a few slow steps into the room, not because she wanted to get involved but because she wanted Derek to see her, to remember her, to realize that the woman he'd been trying to flirt with was standing here with someone else who wasn't going anywhere. She didn't say anything, didn't even look at him directly, just positioned herself where he couldn't miss her.
Derek ran a hand through his hair, clearly rattled. "You don't get to come in here after being gone for days and act like you're the only one who knows how to do this job."
"I'm not acting like anything," Azzi said, stepping closer. "You misdiagnosed a patient with terminal cancer, Derek. You changed how he was treated, what his family was told, how he's been living for the past few weeks. That's not me acting like I'm better than you. That's just what happened."
Derek's face was pale now, his earlier confidence completely gone. "I made the call based on the information I had."
"And you didn't question it," Azzi said. "You didn't verify it. You didn't even consider that something might be off."
Derek looked at Azzi for a long second, then glanced at Paige, then back at Azzi, like he was trying to figure out how he'd ended up in a room where he was outnumbered and outmatched. "You're overreacting," he said, but his voice lacked conviction. "It got caught. He's fine now. That's what matters."
"He's fine because I checked," Azzi said, and her voice was ice. "Not because you did your job."
Paige let the silence hang for a moment, then tilted her head slightly, her voice casual in a way that was anything but. "So you're the guy who almost killed my dad."
Derek's eyes snapped to her, and she could see the moment he realized who she was—or at least, who she was connected to. He opened his mouth, probably to apologize or make excuses or try to charm his way out of it, but Paige didn't give him the chance. She just raised an eyebrow, let the corner of her mouth curve up just enough to let him know she wasn't impressed, and turned to follow Azzi out of the room.
The hallway felt quieter now, like the storm Azzi had just unleashed hadn’t fully settled yet, and Paige walked beside her, stealing glances she tried to pretend she wasn’t making. The adrenaline from everything—the call, the fear, the relief—was still buzzing under her skin, but it had shifted into something softer now, something heavier in a completely different way.
“Hey,” Paige said after a minute, her voice quieter than usual, like she didn’t want to break whatever this was. “Thank you, again.”
Azzi glanced at her briefly, her expression easing just a little. “You already said that.”
"I mean you literally saved my dad's life, so…” and then immediately kept talking because she was incapable of leaving things alone.I should be the one thanking you, which I already did, but I'm gonna do it again because it's still sinking in and I don't think I've fully processed it yet."
She took a breath,"So. Thank you. For real. You caught something everyone else missed and you didn't have to, you could've just taken the original results and moved on, but you didn't, and now my dad's not dying, and I don't know how to say that in a way that doesn't sound like I'm underselling it."
Azzi was quiet for a moment, her steps slowing just slightly. "You don't have to keep thanking me."
"I know. I just—" Paige stopped walking, Azzi took one more step before realizing, then turned back toward her.
"I'm really glad it's you," she said, which wasn't what she'd meant to say but came out anyway. "Like, of all the people who could've walked into that exam room that night, I'm glad it was you. Even with all the lying and the missions and the—" she waved a hand, "—everything. I'm glad it was you."
Azzi's expression flickered, something soft and unreadable passing over her features before she looked away. "You're being sentimental."
“Jeez can’t even thank my doc now, whatever dude.”
Azzi didn’t answer right away, just started walking again and And Paige should’ve left it there. She really should have.
Because the image of that guy, Derek, whatever his name even was—still lingered in the back of her mind, the way he’d looked at Azzi, the way he’d talked to her like he had any kind of chance, and it sat in her chest, something sharp and annoying she couldn’t shake. her jaw now doing that thing where it wouldn't quite unclench no matter how much she told herself to chill out.
Azzi must have noticed because she glanced over, one eyebrow raised “you keep doing that thing with your jaw like you're chewing on something you don't want to say."
"It's literally nothing."
Azzi stopped walking, and Paige stopped too, because apparently her body had decided that whatever Azzi did, she was going to do too. "Paige."
Paige looked at her. Azzi's eyes were steady, patient, the kind of patient that meant she wasn't going to let this go no matter how many times Paige said nothing. And Paige knew she should just tell her, should just say that she didn't like the way Derek had looked at her, didn't like that there was history there she didn't know about, didn't like the idea of some guy thinking he had a shot with Azzi when Paige was standing right there.
But instead of saying any of that, she said, "You're really pretty when you're shutting people down."
"In the staff room. When you were going off on that guy." Paige shoved her hands back in her pockets, trying to look casual, trying to look like her heart wasn't doing something weird in her chest. "It was hot."
“And…You know,” Paige added, trying to sound casual and failing just a little, “that guy in there… you can tell he’s still painfully obsessed with you.”
Azzi huffed out a quiet laugh, “Jealous Bueckers?”
“Yeah,” Paige said immediately.
The word came out way too fast, way too honest, and the second it hung in the air, Azzi’s eyebrows lifted slightly in surprise.
Before she could say something else, Paige stepped closer before she could think better of it reached out and took Azzi's hands, holding them between them, feeling the warmth of her skin and the way her pulse was definitely faster than it had been a second ago.
"I've almost lost you once, Az," Paige said, and her voice was lower now, rougher, like the words were being pulled from somewhere deep in her chest.
“Im not gonna make that same mistake again.”
Azzi didn’t move nor interrupt.
Paige stepped closer, just enough that the space between them felt intentional now, her gaze dropping for a second before lifting back up to meet Azzi’s eyes.
“No one should look at you like that except me. She took a deep breath before continuing, “you’re mine az, you’ve always been mine.”
Azzi's face went red, like actually red cuz that—
That completely caught Azzi off guard.
whatever she’d expected, it wasn’t that.
The flush that crept up her neck to her cheeks was instant, obvious in a way Azzi usually never allowed herself to be, and for once she didn’t have something quick or sarcastic to throw back. She just stood there, her breath catching slightly, her grip on Paige’s hands tightening without her even realizing it.
Paige noticed. Of course she did.
And the second she saw the way Azzi’s composure cracked—just a little, just enough—something shifted in her expression, something more playful, more confident, like she’d just realized exactly what kind of effect she was having.
So she stepped closer again.
Azzi automatically backed up a step. “What are you doing?” she asked, way quieter now, kinda breathless.
Paige's smirk widened, because if there was one thing she loved, it was watching Azzi Fudd lose her cool. “What does it look like I'm doing?”
“looks like you're trying to get us both in trouble”
“I'm not doing anything don’t know what you talkin bout,” Paige said, which was a lie and they both knew it. She reached out, placed her hands on the wall on either side of Azzi's head, caging her in without actually touching her. “You're the one who's flustered.”
Azzi’s back hit the wall softly, her breath catching again, Her hands came up, not to push Paige away but to grip the front of her jacket, like she was using it to keep herself grounded. “I'm on shift,” she said, and her voice was steadier now. “I have to be professional.”
Paige leaned in a lil closer, her voice dropping just enough to make it worse.
Azzi's breath caught, and Paige could see the way her throat moved when she swallowed. “No.”
Paige leaned in even closer, close enough that their lips were almost touching, close enough that she could feel Azzi's breath on her lips. “You sure?”
Azzi's eyes dropped to Paige's lips, and Paige watched her watch her, watched the way her pupils dilated, the way her breathing went shallow, the way her fingers tightened on Paige's jacket like she was holding on for dear life.
Paige leaned in even more, her eyes also on Azzi's lips now, her heart pounding so loud she was sure Azzi could hear it. She could feel the warmth of Azzi's mouth, could almost taste her, could almost—
The sound of someone clearing their throat cut through the air like a knife.
Paige jumped back so fast she nearly tripped over her own feet, her face burning, her hands flying to her sides.
A nurse stood a few feet away, her expression carefully neutral but her eyes definitely laughing at them.
“Um,” the nurse said, gesturing slightly down the hall, “Bob Bueckers is asking for you.”
Paige blinked, her brain taking a second to catch up. “Right. Yeah. Okay.”
Azzi cleared her throat softly, already stepping away, slipping back into her usual composure like it hadn’t just been completely shaken. “I’m gonna go check on a patient,” she said, not quite looking at Paige as she turned.
But before she could walk off, Paige reached out and caught her wrist.
“This conversation’s not done,” she said quietly.
And turned, heading down the hall toward her dad’s room, leaving Azzi standing there for just a second longer than necessary before she forced herself to move again.
Azzi walked down the hallway like she was completely fine, like nothing had just happened five minutes ago that had her entire nervous system acting up, but the heat sitting in her cheeks said otherwise. She could still feel it, that moment pressed way too close in her head—the way Paige had looked at her, the way her voice had dropped, the way her hands had pinned her in without even touching her.
Azzi pressed her fingers to her cheeks and they were warm, annoyingly warm, and she could feel the blush creeping down her neck too which was just ridiculous because she was a grown woman, a doctor, someone who'd literally been trained to keep her composure under pressure, and yet here she was blushing like a middle schooler cuz of none other than Paige Buecker.
She exhaled slowly, dragging a hand through her hair as she kept walking, trying to get herself back into something that resembled professional. “Get it together,” she muttered under her breath, because the last thing she needed right now was to walk into a patient’s room looking like she’d just been cornered and flirted with into a personality shift.
And also—worse—Veronica existed.
if Veronica saw her like this—if Veronica caught even a glimpse of whatever was happening on her face right now—she would never, ever hear the end of it.
Azzi took another steadying breath, rolling her shoulders like she could physically shake the feeling off, but it didn’t really work
her stomach flipped in a way that made her want to be annoyed about it, except she wasn’t. Not even a little.
“Yeah, no, we’re not doing this right now,” she murmured, mostly to herself.
Of course. speaking of the devil.
there she was, leaning against the wall outside room 217 with her arms crossed and that annoying little smirk she always had when she knew something you didn't want her to know.
“What’s up, partner?” Veronica said, grinning like she could already tell something was off.
Azzi straightened immediately, forcing her expression into something neutral, something normal, something that absolutely did not scream I was just almost to make out with Paige in the hallway. “Nothing,” she said way too quickly. “I’m fine.”
Veronica’s eyes narrowed just slightly, the grin turning more suspicious. “You’re never just ‘fine.’ What happened?”
Azzi hesitated for half a second, then decided to redirect before Veronica started digging into her face like it was a case study. “Bob’s gonna be okay,” she said instead, crossing her arms loosely. “Early stage. Treatable.”
Veronica blinked, and then her entire expression lit up. “Wait—seriously? That’s huge, oh my god.” She pushed off the wall immediately, already pulling her phone out. “I need to tell Kate, she was literally spiraling over this yesterday—”
Azzi couldn’t help it—she laughed, shaking her head as Veronica was already dialing before she even finished the sentence, pacing a little like this was breaking news that needed immediate distribution.
“Veronica—” Azzi started, but it was pointless.
“It’s ringing, hold on—Kate, you are not gonna believe this—”
Azzi just let out a quiet laugh, turning away as Veronica launched into the story mid-call, already exaggerating the drama of it all, because of course she was. It was such a Veronica thing to do that it weirdly grounded Azzi for a second, pulling her out of her own head just enough to breathe normally again.
She shook her head, still smiling a little to herself as she continued down the hallway toward her next patient’s room, finally feeling like she’d reset—at least enough to function.
By the time she reached the door, her expression had settled back into something composed, something steady, and she pushed it open like nothing was off.
“Hi,” she said, her tone calm and professional as she stepped inside. “What seems to be the issue today?”
The woman sitting on the bed looked up at her, older, Black, with soft features and a kind of warmth in her expression that made Azzi pause for just a second. There was something about her that felt… familiar, in a way Azzi couldn’t immediately place, like a face you almost recognize but can’t quite connect.
“Just a fever, honey, nothing too crazy ," the woman said, and her voice was soft the kind of voice that made you want to sit down and stay awhile. "They said I should come in just to be safe, but I'm sure it's nothing.”
Azzi nodded, stepping closer, picking up the chart from the end of the bed as she listened, already scanning through the basics. “Alright, we’ll take a look at that.”
And her brain just… stalled for a second.
Azzi blinked, her eyes flicking back to it like it might change if she looked twice.
She felt something tighten in her chest, sharp and unexpected, her thoughts scrambling to catch up with what she was seeing, because there was no way—there was actually no way—
Her gaze lifted slowly, landing back on the woman sitting in front of her, and suddenly that feeling of familiarity hit differently, sharper now, more specific.
Azzi forced her expression not to change, not even a flicker, because there was absolutely no way she was about to react to this in front of the patient like she’d just connected the most insane dot of her life.
“Okay,” she said smoothly, like nothing had happened, like her brain wasn’t currently doing laps. “How long have you been feeling like this?”
The woman answered easily, still smiling, completely unaware of the internal spiral happening two feet away from her, and Azzi nodded along, asking the right questions, checking vitals, going through all the motions like she’d done this a thousand times before—which she had—but this time there was an extra layer to it, something she couldn’t ignore no matter how hard she tried.
Because this wasn’t just a patient.
She swallowed the thought before it fully formed.
Everything came back normal. The fever was mild, nothing concerning, something that would usually be a quick in-and-out visit with basic instructions and a “come back if it gets worse.”
Instead, she set the chart down and gave the woman a small, reassuring smile. “I’d like you to come back tomorrow, just so we can follow up and make sure everything’s settling properly.”
The woman tilted her head slightly, a little surprised but not questioning it. “Tomorrow?”
“Yeah,” Azzi said easily, already writing it in. “Just to be safe.”
There was no actual reason.
“Alright, honey,” the woman said, smiling again. “If you say so.”
Azzi nodded, walking her through the rest like normal, keeping everything smooth, controlled, professional—like her brain hadn’t completely derailed the second she read that name.
When the woman finally left the room, the door clicking shut behind her, the silence that followed felt way too loud.
Azzi stood there for a second, staring at the chart still in her hands.
“…No way,” she muttered under her breath. “ what the actual fuck”
Because there was absolutely no way she had just—
She let out a slow breath, dragging a hand down her face, half in disbelief, half in what do I even do with this information.
She had just met Paige’s mom.
Azzi shook her head slightly, still trying to process it, her thoughts immediately jumping ahead to all the ways this could go wrong if she said something too soon, too fast, without thinking it through.
“Yeah… no,” she murmured quietly. “Not telling her yet.”
She couldn't tell Paige. Not yet. Not when she didn't know anything—why she was here, why she'd left, why she'd stayed away for so long. Paige deserved answers, but Azzi needed to find them first, and she needed to do it without blowing up whatever fragile peace they'd finally started to build.
Azzi had already been awake for a while, lying on her side and staring at Paige without even trying to justify it.
Paige was fully asleep, face half buried in the pillow, hair completely wrecked, and her mouth slightly open which would’ve been embarrassing if it was anyone else.
this was the same girl who had shown up at her place out of nowhere, all jealous and confidence, backing her into a wall and acting untouchable, and now she looked like she wouldn’t survive being woken up too fast.
Azzi pressed her lips together, holding back a smile she didn’t want to deal with yet.
Paige shifted, her nose scrunching like it always did right before she woke up, and Azzi didn’t move, just watched as her eyes blinked open slowly, unfocused at first before settling.
It took a second for her to figure out where she was. Another to realize Azzi was watching her.
Then the grin showed up, lazy and immediate, “Morning,” Paige mumbled, voice all rough and sleepy.
“Morning,” Azzi said flatly, because absolutely not—she was not about to let Paige know that voice was doing things to her.
Paige stretched all long limbs and quiet little sounds, and Azzi very intentionally looked away because yeah… no. Too early for that.
“How long have you been up?” Paige asked, still sounding half-asleep.
There was a pause, and Azzi could feel it before she even looked back.
“Were you watching me sleep?” Paige said, already amused.
“I was deciding whether to wake you up or just let you sleep here and pretend none of this happened.”
That got a laugh out of Paige, low and easy, and she rolled onto her side to face her properly, still way too comfortable for someone who had shown up the way she did the night before.
“You don’t mean that,” she said, like she was completely sure of it.
Azzi rolled her eyes, but she could already feel the heat creeping up her neck—and Paige noticed immediately.
“Awww you’re blushing ,” Paige said, way too pleased
Paige pushed herself up onto her elbow, the blanket slipping just enough to make it obvious she knew exactly what she was doing, and Azzi’s brain stalled for a second before she forced herself to stay put and not react.
“For someone who claims this doesn’t affect her,” Paige said, her voice quieter now but still edged with that same teasing tone, “you’re putting in a lot of effort not to look at me.”
Azzi turned her head back, meeting her eyes this time even though it was probably a mistake, because Paige immediately looked like she’d just proven a point.
“You’re looking above me.”
“I’m choosing not to engage.”
“That’s not what that is.”
Azzi exhaled through her nose. “Your forehead is in my line of sight.”
“Out of everything you could be looking at right now.”
“It’s a very symmetrical forehead, I don’t know what you want me to say.”
Paige let out a short laugh, shaking her head. “You’re unbelievable.”
“You’re the one who showed up last night acting like you had something to prove over a guy I don’t even like.”
Paige’s expression shifted just slightly, the confidence dipping for half a second before she recovered.
“You literally showed up at my door in the middle of the night.”
“And you don’t do that unless something’s wrong.”
Paige held her gaze for a second, then shrugged, but it wasn’t as careless as she was trying to make it seem.
Paige didn’t hesitate this time. “That you’re mine.”
Azzi went still for a second, the words hitting harder than she expected, and she looked away before she could overthink it too much, but Paige reached out and caught her chin, not forceful, just enough to turn her back.
“Don’t do that,” she said, quieter now.
“Act like you didn’t feel that.”
Azzi hesitated, then sighed under her breath. “I felt it.”
“Okay, so don’t pretend you didn’t.”
“I’m not pretending,” she said, her voice dropping a little. “I just don’t say things like that out loud.”
Azzi held her gaze for a second, then looked away again, not pulling back this time, just… thinking.
“Because it’s a lot,” she said finally. “And I don’t know what to do with it yet.”
That took the edge out of Paige completely.
“Yeah,” she said after a second. “Fair.”
There was a quiet moment after that, not awkward, just… still, like neither of them was trying to fill it for once.
“You still said it,” Azzi added.
Paige’s expression didn’t change. “Yeah.”
Azzi let out a quiet laugh, shaking her head a little. “You don’t do anything halfway, do you?”
Paige’s mouth curved slightly. “No.”
Azzi should’ve said something else, something to push back or deflect or reset the balance, but she didn’t, and when Paige leaned in, slower this time, not trying to catch her off guard, she didn’t move away either.
The kiss wasn’t rushed or messy or anything like the night before, just steady and quiet, like neither of them was trying to prove anything anymore.
When they pulled back, Paige still looked way too pleased with herself.
“That was nice,” she said.
Paige laughed under her breath and shifted closer, and Azzi didn’t fight it, which was probably its own problem, but she ignored that for now.
They settled into the silence after that, the light filling the room, everything slower, calmer.
And for once, Azzi didn’t try to pull away from it or overthink what it meant.
She just stayed there and let it be enough.
They eventually got out of bed, only because Paige’s stomach betrayed her in the most disrespectful way possible, loud enough that azzi immediately started laughing and wouldn’t let it go, so now Azzi was at the stove making breakfast while Paige was sitting on the counter to her left, which she wasn’t supposed to be doing, but Azzi had already told her to get down more than once and Paige clearly wasn’t interested in listening. She just stayed there, legs swinging, watching her.
“You’re in the way,” Azzi said, flipping the eggs.
Paige ignored that and reached over, grabbing a piece of bacon straight off the plate.
“Don’t do that,” Azzi said.
Paige took a bite anyway. “Relax I’m making sure it’s edible .”
“Are you saying I can’t cook?.”
Azzi glanced over, ready to argue, but Paige looked way too comfortable, just sitting there eating her food like she belonged in the kitchen, it seemed very domestic and it threw her off for a second.
“You’re actually annoying,” Azzi said.
Azzi shook her head and turned back to the stove, but it didn’t feel tense or awkward. It should’ve, considering everything, but it didn’t. It just… worked. Paige talking, grabbing things, getting in the way, and Azzi pretending to be annoyed while still cooking enough for both of them.
It felt normal, which was the weirdest part.
Paige nudged her shoulder lightly. “You always this locked in when cooking?”
“Only when I have a food theif around”
“That’s crazy bro it’s not that deep.” Paige said while laughing
They went quiet for a bit, just the sound of the stove and food sizzling.
“Your fridge is insane, by the way,” Paige said eventually.
Azzi didn’t look up. “It’s organized.”
“It is if you know what you’re doing.”
“It’s giving control issues.”
“It’s giving you need to mind your business.”
Paige laughed under her breath and kept eating.
Azzi finished up and slid a plate toward her before leaning back against the counter with her own.
Paige didn’t hesitate, already halfway through her food.
“So what are you doing today?” Azzi asked.
Paige shrugged. “Gonna check on my dad later and have smt that I need to fix. After that… nothing planned.”
Azzi snorted, and for a second it was easy again.
Paige grabbed her phone, scrolling for a second before letting out a quiet laugh. “Your best friend hates me, by the way.”
“She sent me a whole paragraph last night.”
Paige looked up at her then, expression shifting just a little. “You know I wouldn’t hurt you, right? I know it might be a lil hard to believe after everything but I’m still saying it cuz I mean it”
Azzi paused, then met her eyes. “I know.”
Paige held that for a second, checking if Azzi actually meant it, then nodded.
They went back to eating, quieter now.
Then Paige spoke again, more casually this time, but not really.
“I was thinking about my mom earlier,” she said. “About what she’d say about all this. Hospitals, everything, she prolly thinks my dads dead by now.”
Azzi’s chest tightened, but she kept her expression steady.
“She hated hospitals,” Paige added. “Said they were always bad news.”
Azzi swallowed. “She’d be proud of you.”
Paige glanced up. “You think?”
Paige nodded slowly, accepting that, and something about the way she did made it harder than it should’ve been.
Azzi looked away, pushing off the counter and stepping back toward the stove even though she didn’t need to.
“Yeah.” She said too quickly
Paige noticed, ofc she did.
She didn’t say anything right away though, just watched her for a second.
Paige was standing now, plate in the sink, looking at her properly.
“You can tell me stuff,” she said. “You know that, right?”
She looked at Paige, at how open she was being without making it a big deal, and the words were right there—but she didn’t say them.
“I know,” she said instead.
Paige held her gaze for a second, then nodded.
And that was it. No pushing, no questions.
She just grabbed a towel and started drying dishes.
Azzi let out a quiet breath, tension settling in her chest instead of leaving.
They cleaned up together after that, not really talking, just moving around each other easily.
It should’ve felt simple, and it would’ve if it weren’t for the secret azzi was carrying.
Kate had told Veronica to wait in the study while she went to pour them done drinks. Veronica took this chance to look at the photos on the walls laughing at Kate’s funny expressions, but then her eyes landed on the stack of cheques on the desk.
all signed, all made out to accounts she recognized, and the amounts were high enough to make her pause properly this time.
And why tf were they all being sent to Fudds branch.
Kate chose that exact moment to walk back in, two glasses of wine in her hands, and stopped as soon as she saw Veronica at the desk.
“Okay… what is this?” Veronica said holding the cheques
There was a split second where Kate clearly considered pretending nothing was happening, then she just sighed and set the glasses down.
“Those aren’t— you weren’t supposed to—” she started, then stopped herself, already knowing it was pointless.
Veronica didn’t move away. “What is this?”
Kate crossed her arms, already bracing. “You didn’t see anything.”
“I’m looking directly at it.”
“Okay, but just… don’t process it.”
Kate dragged a hand through her hair, exhaling like she was giving up a losing argument. “I’m not supposed to talk about it. Paige will fr bury me alive.”
Veronica just stared at her, and that was enough.
Kate held it for a second, then caved. “Fine. But if this comes back to bite me you’re taking as much shit as I will.”
“And you can’t tell Azzi yet.”
Veronica frowned slightly. “Why not?”
“Because Paige wants to,” Kate said. “She’s been very specific about that.”
There was a brief pause before Veronica nodded. “Okay. So explain.”
Kate glanced toward the door again out of habit, then stepped a little closer and lowered her voice. “She’s been doing this for a while Since everything with the warehouses went sideways and azzi blaming her for her family’s loses. She took it worse than she let on.”
Veronica looked back at the desk, at the cheques spread out in front of her.
“She’s been putting money back into everything your family lost,” Kate continued. “Quietly. Covering shipments, fixing contracts, stabilizing anything that took a hit. She’s basically rebuilding it without making it obvious.”
Veronica let out a small breath. “All of it?”
“Not all yet,” Kate said. “But she’s trying to get there.”
Veronica picked up one of the cheques, her eyes settling on the signature this time. Paige’s handwriting, rushed and uneven, but still unmistakable.
Veronica set the cheque back down more carefully than before, her attention lingering on the stack for a second longer.
“Yeah,” Kate said, softer now.
They stood there for a moment, letting it sit, before Kate nudged her shoulder lightly.
“Just don’t say anything yet,” she added. “She wants to tell Azzi herself.”
Veronica nodded slowly. “I won’t.”
She looked back at the desk once more, then over at Kate, her expression settling into something more thoughtful.
“She’s a different typa breed,” Veronica said.
Kate smiled slightly. “Yeah.”
There was a small pause, and then Kate’s expression shifted, something more amused slipping through.
“Oh—there’s something else.”
Veronica glanced at her. “What.”
“She’s planning to ask her,” Kate said. “Properly.”
Veronica blinked. “They’re not already—”
“No,” Kate cut in. “They’ve been circling it, but nothing official.”
Veronica let out a quiet laugh, shaking her head slightly. “That tracks.”
“She’s overthinking it too,” Kate added. “Timing, how to say it, all of that.”
“She asked you for advice?”
Veronica reached for her glass, then paused briefly. “If Paige finds out you told me—”
“I’m done for,” Kate said immediately.
Veronica nodded once. “Good. Just making sure.”
Kate handed her the wine, and they clinked glasses lightly, neither of them saying anything else.
THE HOSPITAL — TWO DAYS LATER
Moe Bueckers walked in, her soft footsteps barely registering against the linoleum floor, and Azzi looked up from the chart she was pretending to read and felt her chest tighten immediately. She'd been thinking about this moment for two days—practicing what she'd say, how she'd say it, how she'd keep her voice steady and her face neutral and not give away the fact that she'd been losing sleep over a woman she'd met once. But now Moe was here, sitting down in the chair across from her with that same warm smile, and Azzi's carefully rehearsed opening completely left her brain.
"Hi there, honey," Moe said, settling into the seat like she had all the time in the world. "You said I should come back for a follow-up?"
Azzi nodded, grabbing her pen mostly so she'd have something to do with her hands. "Just to make sure everything's settled. How've you been feeling?"
"Much better, actually," Moe said, and her smile widened a little. "Probably didn't even need to come back, but you seemed so concerned I figured I'd humor you."
Azzi felt a flicker of guilt, quick and sharp, but she pushed it down. "I just like to be thorough."
"Nothing wrong with that, honey."
Azzi asked the usual questions—any lingering symptoms, how her sleep had been, whether she'd been drinking enough fluids—and Moe answered each one with the same easy warmth, like she wasn't annoyed by the extra appointment at all. Azzi nodded along, writing things down, waiting for the right moment to steer the conversation somewhere else.
"So," Azzi said, keeping her voice casual, "do you have family nearby? Anyone who can check on you if you're not feeling well?"
Moe's expression softened, something flickering in her eyes that Azzi couldn't quite read. " well technically I have a daughter. She doesn't live nearby, though. Hasn't for a long time."
Azzi's heart picked up speed, but she kept her face neutral. "That must be hard."
"It is what it is," Moe said, and there was a weight to her voice now, something that hadn't been there before. "I hope she’s a good person I mean she’s always been a good kid. Smart, stubborn, too much attitude for her own good." She smiled, a little wistful. "She's got this whole life now—important, busy, people who rely on her. She doesn't need me hovering."
Azzi set her pen down carefully. "What about her brother?"
Moe's eyebrows lifted slightly. "How'd you know about her brother?"
Azzi hesitated, just for a second, and then she decided to push forward. "Lucky guess."
Moe studied her for a moment, her gaze sharper now, more assessing. "You're very interested in my family, Dr. Fudd."
Well shit, sometimes I wish fudd wasn’t my last name during times like this.
tAzzi held her gaze. "I'm interested in my patients.”
There was a beat of silence, and then Moe laughed softly, shaking her head. "You're good at this, you know. The gentle questions, the concerned looks. You almost had me." She leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. "But I've been around long enough to know when someone's fishing for something. So why don't you tell me what this is really about?"
Azzi's throat tightened. She could feel the moment stretching out in front of her, the choice she had to make—deflect, make up an excuse, send Moe on her way and pretend this conversation never happened, or tell her the truth and deal with whatever came after.
She thought about Paige. About the way she talked about her mom like she was trying to convince herself she didn't care. About the way her voice got smaller when she said she'd be proud of you like she needed someone to tell her it was true. About all those years of wondering why her mother left, whether she'd ever come back, whether she even thought about them at all.
"Your daughter," she said. "Paige."
Moe went completely still.
"I know her," Azzi continued, her voice steady even though her hands were shaking. "I know her really well. And I know she's been looking for you. Not actively, maybe, but—" She paused, searching for the right words. "She talks about you. More than she realizes. About how you left, about how she doesn't understand why, about how she wishes you could see her now."
Moe's face had gone pale, her earlier warmth replaced by something more guarded, more fragile. "How do you—"
"She's my girlfriend," Azzi said, and the word felt strange in her mouth but also right, somehow. "Or close to it. We're figuring it out."
Moe stared at her, her mouth slightly open, her hands gripping the arms of her chair. "Paige is—you're—" She stopped, swallowed. "She doesn't know you're here, does she?"
"No," Azzi admitted. "I didn't know how to tell her. I didn't even know if you'd want to see her. I just—I couldn't let you leave without knowing who you were."
Moe was quiet for a long moment, her eyes wet but not crying, her chest rising and falling too fast. "How is she?" she asked finally, her voice barely a whisper. "Is she okay?"
"She's more than okay," Azzi said. "She's running her family's business, taking care of her brother, keeping everyone around her from falling apart. She's stubborn and annoying and way too hard on herself, and she's the best person I know." She paused. "She misses you.”Moe pressed her hand over her mouth, and for a second Azzi thought she was going to cry, but then she pulled herself together with a visible effort and looked up at the ceiling like she was trying to compose herself.
"I couldn't stay," Moe said, her voice shaking. "I couldn't live that life. The danger, the fear, the constant looking over my shoulder. I loved them—I loved her—but I couldn't be who they needed me to be."
Azzi nodded slowly. "That's understandable."
Moe blinked, like she'd been expecting a fight. "It is?"
"I'm not here to judge you," Azzi said. "I'm not here to guilt you into anything. I just thought you deserved to know that she's okay. That they're both okay. That Bob—" She hesitated. "Bob's in the hospital. He's been sick, but he's going to be alright.”
Moe's face crumpled. "Bob's—"
"Hes on the floor above but he’s okay," Azzi said quickly. "He's going to be okay. Paige has been with him almost every day. She's been taking care of him."
Moe wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, a messy, unself-conscious gesture that reminded Azzi so much of Paige it made her chest ache. "I should've been there," she said quietly. "I should've—"
"You did what you had to do," Azzi said. "That doesn't make it easy. But it doesn't make you a monster either."
They sat there in silence for a moment, the weight of everything settling between them, and then Moe spoke: "Thank you," she said. "For telling me. For taking care of her."
Azzi nodded. "She doesn't know I'm here. And I don't know if she's ready to see you yet. But I thought you should know—she's not angry. Not really. She's just hurt. And I think, maybe, she's been waiting for you to come back."
Moe's eyes filled with tears again, but this time she didn't try to hide them. "I don't know if I can," she whispered. "I don't know if I'm strong enough."
"That's okay too," Azzi said. "You don't have to decide right now. You just had to know."
There was a knock on the door, a nurse asking for her and moe and azzi went back to being doctor and patient like nothing had happened.
The silence between them wasn't awkward anymore—it was just heavy, weighed down by everything Azzi had said and everything Moe hadn't figured out how to respond to yet. Azzi reached into her bag and pulled out a small notepad, tearing off a sheet and scribbling down her number and address in quick, efficient handwriting that she'd perfected over years of writing prescriptions and patient notes. She held it out to Moe, who took it with slightly trembling fingers and stared at the paper like it was something precious.
"If you ever want to talk," Azzi said, her voice softer now, less clinical, "or if you ever just want to show up, my door's always open.”
she paused, searching for the right words. "Just so you know there's somewhere to go, when you’ve made a decision”
Moe looked up at her, her eyes still wet, her face still pale, but there was something else there now too—something that looked like hope, or at least the beginning of it.
"I don't know when, and I don't know how, but I'll try. And when I make up my mind—when I figure out what I want to say—I'll let you know."
Azzi didn't say anything, just held her gaze for a moment and then gave a small nod before turning and walking toward the door.
And Azzi didn't know if she'd done the right thing.
But at least, for the first time in years, Moe Bueckers was thinking about going home.
Azzi had three more patients after Moe left, and deadass she couldn’t tell you a single thing about any of them.
technically she did her job. Asked the questions she was supposed to ask, gave the little understanding nods at the right moments, scribbled stuff onto charts like she knew what she was doing, but her brain wasn’t even in those rooms anymore. It was still stuck replaying everything from earlier on loop
The way Moe’s hands shook when she took the paper. The crack in her voice when she said I’ll try. The expression on her face when Azzi mentioned Paige’s name, as if something finally clicked after years of confusion.
And underneath all of that, the guilt was already creeping in hard.
Because what if Paige didn’t even want her involved in this?
What if Paige didn't want her involved in this? What if she got mad—not at Moe, but at Azzi, for inserting herself into something that wasn't her place? What if she found out before Azzi could tell her, and then she'd think Azzi was hiding something again, scheming again, lying again, and everything they'd been building would crumble
She was standing at the nurses' station now, pretending to read a chart, but her eyes hadn't moved in at least two minutes and the words were just blurry shapes on the page. A nurse asked her something—she didn't catch what—and she nodded automatically, hoping it was the right response, and the nurse walked away looking slightly confused.
This was fine. Everything was fine.
Because now she was carrying another secret, another piece of information that belonged to Paige, and she didn't know how to hold it without dropping it. She didn't know when to tell her, how to tell her, whether she even should—maybe she should've just let Moe leave and never said anything, maybe she'd made everything worse by opening her mouth, maybe—
Veronica was standing in front of her, arms crossed, head tilted, looking at her like she was trying to solve a puzzle. "You good?"
"Fine," Azzi said automatically.
Veronica's eyes narrowed. "You've been standing there for like five minutes staring at the same page."
"You haven't flipped the page once."
Azzi looked down at the chart in her hands. Veronica was right—she'd been staring at the same lab results for way too long, and they weren't even for a patient she was currently treating. She set the chart down carefully, "It's nothing," she said.
Veronica didn't look convinced, but she didn't push either. She just glanced at the clock, then back at Azzi. "Break time," she said. "Come on."
Azzi hesitated, her brain still spinning with all the ways this could go wrong, all the ways she could mess this up, all the ways Paige might look at her when she found out what Azzi had done. But Veronica was already walking, and Azzi's feet moved before her brain could catch up, because at least if she was following Veronica she didn't have to think about what came next.
THE HOSPITAL PARKING LOT — BREAK TIME
Veronica didn't even give Azzi a chance to protest—she just grabbed her by the arm and pulled her toward the doors, ththe hallway, past the confused looks from a few nurses who definitely saw them, and out into the parking lot where the air was actually fresh for once and the sky wasn't trying to make anyone feel claustrophobic. Azzi let herself be dragged, mostly because she was too tired to fight and also because Veronica had that look—the one that meant she wasn't going to take no for an answer.
They ended up in Veronica's car, doors closed, windows cracked, the faint smell of coffee and whatever air freshener Kate had bought lingering in the air. Azzi stared at the dashboard, her hands in her lap, her brain still spinning too fast to catch up with her mouth.
"Okay," Veronica said, twisting in her seat to face her. "Spill."
"There's nothing to spill."
"You've been walking around like a zombie for the past two hours and you almost gave Mrs. Patterson the wrong dosage because you weren't paying attention. That's not nothing."
Azzi winced. "She didn't notice."
They sat there for a second, the silence stretching between them, and Azzi knew Veronica wasn't going to let this go—she never did, not when it mattered, not when something was actually wrong. So she took a breath, and then another, and then she told her everything.
About Moe showing up for the follow-up. About the questions she'd asked, the way she'd tried to steer the conversation toward family. About the moment she'd just come out and said it—I know your daughter—and how Moe's whole face had changed, like someone had pulled a rug out from under her and she was still trying to figure out how to land.
About the invitation. The address. The number. The open door.
When she finished, Veronica was quiet for a long moment, her expression unreadable, and Azzi felt her stomach twist because this was it—this was where Veronica told her she'd overstepped, that she should've stayed out of it, that she'd made everything worse.
"That's insane," Veronica said finally.
Azzi's chest tightened. "I know—"
"That's genuinely insane," Veronica continued, shaking her head. "You met Paige's mom. You had a whole conversation with her. And you just—you just told her everything?"
"I didn't tell her everything."
Azzi looked down at her hands, her nails bitten raw, her knuckles pale. "She deserved to know. That Paige is okay. That Bob is okay. That—" She stopped, swallowed. "That someone still cares about her even after she left”
Veronica was quiet again, and when Azzi finally looked up, her expression wasn't angry or judgmental—it was something softer, something that looked almost like understanding.
"You're scared," Veronica said.
Azzi didn't deny it. "What if she gets mad? What if she doesn't want me in her and her mom's business? What if she finds out about this before I can tell her and thinks I'm up to something again—like I'm scheming, like I'm lying, like I haven't actually changed at all?"
Veronica stared at her for a second, then made a face. "Are you dumb?"
"Like genuinely, are you dumb?"
"Why would Paige ever think that? You literally saved her dad's life like a week ago. You've been showing up for her every single day. You're literally the reason she's been sleeping through the night instead of waking up convinced everyone she loves is about to die." Veronica waved a hand. "She's not gonna think you're scheming. She's gonna think you're trying to help. Because that's what you do. That's literally all you do."
Azzi opened her mouth, then closed it.
Veronica leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms. "You're overthinking this."
"You're literally overthinking it right now. Your face is doing that thing where you look like you're calculating seventeen different outcomes at once and none of them are good."
Azzi pressed her lips together. "My face doesn't do things."
"Your face does so many things."
Azzi hated that a small laugh escaped her. Just a breath, barely anything, but Veronica's expression shifted immediately—lighter, more like herself.
"There she is," Veronica said. "There's my best friend."
Azzi shook her head, looking out the window at the grey parking lot, the empty spaces, the flickering light of the streetlamp that hadn't been fixed in weeks. "I still don't know what to do."
"Then don't do anything yet," Veronica said. "Just sit with it. Figure out what you want to say. And when you're ready, you tell her. Not because you have to, but because you want to."
Azzi turned back to her. "And what if she's upset?"
"Then she's upset. And you deal with it. Together." Veronica shrugged. "That's what people in relationships do. They fight, and then they figure it out. It's not the end of the world just because it's messy."
Azzi let that settle into her chest, heavy but not painful, and she nodded slowly. "Okay."
There was a beat of silence, and then Azzi sat up straighter. "We should tell Caroline."
Veronica raised an eyebrow. "Tell Caroline what?"
"About everything. Moe. The conversation. All of it." Azzi reached for her phone. "She's going to find out eventually anyway, and I'd rather her hear it from us than from someone else."
Veronica considered this for a second, then nodded. "Fair."
Azzi pulled up Caroline's contact and pressed call, putting it on speaker so Veronica could hear too. The line rang once, twice, three times—and then Caroline's voice came through, slightly out of breath.
"Hey, what's up? You're on speaker, Nika's here."
Azzi and Veronica exchanged a glance.
"Uh," Veronica said, leaning toward the phone. "Where are you?"
"One of the warehouses," Caroline said, and there was something in her voice that sounded almost casual, which was weird because Caroline was never casual about warehouses. "Just checking on some things. Making sure everything's running smoothly."
Azzi's eyes narrowed. "With Nika."
"Yes," Caroline said carefully. "With Nika."
Veronica's mouth curved into a slow grin, the kind that meant she was about to be insufferable. "Since when are you and Nika hanging out?"
"Since when are you and Kate hanging out?"
"It's the only one you're getting."
Azzi couldn't help it—she laughed, the sound surprising her, and Veronica joined in, the two of them dissolving into something that felt like relief, like the tension that had been sitting in Azzi's chest for hours finally loosening its grip.
"Okay, but seriously," Veronica said, still grinning. "You and Nika? I didn't see that coming."
Caroline sighed, but there was no heat in it. "You know what they say. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer."
And then, faintly, from somewhere in the background of Caroline's end of the call, Nika's voice: "I heard that."
Caroline laughed—a real laugh, bright and unexpected—and Azzi felt something warm spread through her chest.
"I'll call you later," Caroline said. "We have more to talk about."
"Yeah," Azzi said. "We do."
The line went dead, and Azzi sat there for a moment, phone in her hand, looking out at the parking lot while Veronica fiddled with the radio. The sun was starting to set, the sky turning orange and pink and gold, and for the first time all day, Azzi felt like she could breathe.
"Okay," she said finally, sitting up straighter. "I'm gonna go to Paige's after my shift." "After your shift?"
"That's like—three more hours."
"So you're just gonna sit there for three hours thinking about everything you just told me and spiraling even more than you already are?"
Azzi's jaw tightened. "I'm not spiraling."
"You're literally spiraling right now. Your leg hasn't stopped bouncing since I got in the car."
Azzi looked down. Her leg was, in fact, bouncing. She stilled it with conscious effort, but the energy didn't go away—it just moved somewhere else, settling in her chest like a hummingbird trapped behind her ribs.
Veronica watched her for a second, then sighed "Go."
"Go. Right now. I'll cover your shift."
Azzi blinked. "You can't cover my shift.
"You're not even supposed to be in this department."
"Azzi." Veronica's voice was firm, but not unkind—the kind of firm that came from knowing someone well enough to know when they were about to do something stupid and deciding to help them anyway. "You're not gonna be able to focus on patients when your brain is clearly somewhere else. And honestly? I'd rather you leave now than accidentally give someone the wrong medication because you were too distracted to read the chart properly."
Azzi wanted to argue. She opened her mouth to argue. But the words didn't come, because Veronica wasn't wrong—she'd already almost messed up once today, and that was before she'd told anyone about Moe, before she'd admitted out loud that she was scared, before the weight of everything had settled into her bones and made it hard to think straight
"I can't ask you to do that," she said instea
"You're not asking. I'm offering." Veronica reached over and squeezed her arm, quick and reassuring. "Now go. Before I change my mind."
Azzi hesitated for one more second, then nodded, grabbing her bag and pushing open the car door. The air outside was cooler now, the sun dipping lower, and she could hear the distant sound of traffic and the faint hum of the city waking up for the night.
"Thank you," she said, looking back at Veronica through the open door.
Veronica waved her off. "Yeah, yeah. Just bring me back something good from Paige's overpriced kitchen."
Azzi closed the door and walked to her car, her heart already racing, her hands already shaking, her mind already stuck on the image of Paige's face—warm and open and completely unaware of what Azzi had been carrying for the past two days.
She needed to see her. Needed to be in her arms. Needed to feel like something in this chaotic, complicated mess of a life was still solid.
She started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot.
The drive to Paige's was usually about twenty minutes, but Azzi had made it in fifteen before and she was honestly considering trying for twelve tonight. Her hands were gripping the steering wheel a little too tight, her eyes flicking between the road and her phone every few seconds like she was expecting something to happen—a text, a call, a sign that she was doing the right thing.
She was so focused on not spiraling that she almost didn't notice her phone lighting up.
She knew it was Moe—she didn't know how she knew, but she did—and she stared at the screen for so long that she almost missed the exit. She swerved slightly, catching herself, and grabbed the phone off the passenger seat before she could think better of it.
"Dr. Fudd?" Moe's voice was soft, hesitant, like she wasn't sure she was allowed to be calling. "It's Moe. I hope I'm not bothering you."
Azzi's chest tightened. "No, no—you're not bothering me. Is everything okay?"
"Yes," Moe said quickly. "Yes, everything's fine. I just—" She paused, and Azzi could hear her breathing, could hear her gathering herself. "I've made up my mind."
Azzi's foot eased off the gas, her car slowing slightly as she processed the words. "You have?"
"I've spent too much time away from her already," Moe said, and her voice was steadier now, stronger. "Too many years. And every minute I spend not seeing her feels like it's going to kill me." A pause. "I'm ready. I want to see her."
Azzi's heart was pounding so loud she was sure Moe could hear it through the phone. She pulled into a parking lot—some random strip mall she didn't recognize—and put the car in park, because there was no way she could drive and have this conversation at the same time.
"Okay," she said. "Okay."
"I know I said I'd come to your place," Moe continued, "but I was thinking—I don't want to do this in pieces. I don't want to hide anymore. I want to go to her. To the house. The one where she grew up. Where I raised her and Drew."
Azzi's throat tightened. "You want to go to Paige's house."
The word hit Azzi like a physical thing, heavy and sharp and full of so much meaning she didn't know how to hold it all. Home. Moe hadn't called it that in years—probably hadn't let herself think of it that way—but now she was saying it out loud, and something in Azzi's chest cracked open.
"Okay," she said again, her voice softer now. "Okay. I'll meet you there."
"Thank you." Moe's voice wavered, just a little. "I know I don't deserve—"
"You don't have to do that," Azzi cut in, gentle but firm. "You don't have to earn this. You just have to show up."
There was a long pause, and then Moe exhaled—a shaky, unsteady sound that might have been a laugh or a sob or something in between. "I'll see you soon."
Azzi sat there for a moment, phone in her hand, heart racing, head spinning. She'd wanted to go to Paige's to be in her arms, to feel safe, to let the chaos settle. Instead, she was about to walk into a reunion that could change everything—for better or worse, for good or for disaster.
But at least she was being honest. At least she wasn't hiding anymore. At least whatever happened next, she'd done the right thing.
She put the car in drive and pulled back onto the road.
Okay so the mansion looked actually insane right now, Paige had fully lost her mind and decided to turn the whole place into a Pinterest board come to life. Flowers everywhere—like literally everywhere.candles flickering on literally every flat surface she could find, casting this warm soft glow over everything She'd been spiraling for hours. Days, honestly. Ever since she decided tonight was the night, ever since she roped Caroline and Nika into helping her set up, ever since she texted Veronica like "hey can you maybe make sure Azzi leaves her shift a little early" in the most casual way possible even though she'd been stress-typing for ten minutes before she finally hit send. She'd changed her outfit four times, rearranged the flowers at least seven, and Caroline had to physically take the lighter away from her at some point because she kept relighting candles that were already lit.
Now everything was perfect. Or close enough. The table was set, the food was under those warming tray things, and the only thing missing was the girl she was doing all of this for.
Paige was standing by the fireplace, smoothing down her shirt for the millionth time, when she heard the front door open.
Her heart straight up leaped into her throat.
She wiped her palms on her pants, took a breath and tried to remember the words she'd been practicing for two days—the ones about how Azzi made her feel alive, how she didn't really know what she was doing or what she was supposed to be but she knew she wanted Azzi in her life for real, officially, no more dancing around it. The words were in there somewhere, buried under all the nerves and the hope and the fear that Azzi might hit her with the " we can’t do this" speech. Azzi walked in slow, her footsteps barely making a sound on the floor, and Paige watched her take in everything—the flowers, the candles, the whole ridiculous setup that was probably way too much but also exactly how she felt. Her face was doing something complicated, like confused but also nervous, and Paige's stomach did a weird flip.
"Hey," she said, and her voice came out softer than she meant it to.
Azzi's eyes finally landed on her. "Hey."
They just stood there for a second, the distance between them feeling both super far and also like nothing at all, and then Paige moved closer because standing still was honestly torture at this point.
"Look, I know this is—" she gestured at the whole situation, "—a lot. Like, a lot a lot. I'm not really good at this kind of thing, the whole feelings and words and whatever, but I know that you're really important to me. Like, genuinely. And ever since I met you, my life hasn't been the same. It's been better. Even when it's been a mess, it's been better because you were there."
Azzi's eyes were all shiny, her mouth slightly open, and Paige couldn't tell if that was a good sign or her about to be rejected, so she just kept going because backing out now would be worse.
"You make me feel happy, like actually happy, like I'm not just going through the motions anymore. And I don't want to mess this up, and I'm not trying to rush you, but I also don't want to wait another second to tell you that I—"
The word came out fast, almost panicked, and Paige's entire brain just stopped working.
She stared at Azzi, her heart dropping into her stomach, her thoughts scrambling to make sense of what just happened. No? Had Azzi really just said no? Before she could even finish? Before she could even ask the actual question?
Azzi's face was pale, her eyes wet, and she looked just as scared as Paige felt, which was honestly not helping. "No, that's not—I didn't mean it like that—" She shook her head, clearly frustrated with herself, and reached out like she wanted to grab Paige's hands but stopped at the last second. "I need to tell you something first. Before this goes any further. There's something you need to know, and it's going to change everything, and I should've told you sooner but I didn't know how, and now you're doing all of this, and it's making it so much harder because I can't just pretend like—"
She was rambling, which Azzi literally never did, and Paige's fear was slowly turning into confusion, her heart still pounding but for completely different reasons now.
The words just landed there, heavy and sharp, and Paige's brain fully short-circuited.
"At the hospital. A few days ago. She came in for a check-up, and I didn't know who she was at first, and then I saw her name on the chart, and I—" Azzi swallowed, her hands literally shaking. "I didn't tell you because I didn't know what to say. I didn't know if she wanted to see you, or if you even wanted to see her, or if I was just making everything worse by getting involved. But I couldn't just let her leave without knowing that you're okay. That your dad's okay. That someone out there still cares about her."
Paige couldn't move. Couldn't speak. Her mom had been alive this whole time—obviously, she knew that, technically—but she'd kind of stopped thinking of her as a real person years ago, had just filed her under "left" and "not coming back" and "don't think about it or you'll spiral." And now Azzi was standing here, telling her that she'd been in the same room as her, that they'd talked, that—
"She's here," Azzi said, her voice softer now. "I told her to meet me here. She wants to see you. She's ready."
Paige's whole world tilted sideways.
She wanted to be mad. She wanted to yell at Azzi for keeping this from her, for making decisions about her family without her, for standing here in front of all these flowers and candles and dropping this bomb like it was nothing. But before she could even figure out what she was feeling, the front door opened again.
And Moe Bueckers walked in.
She looked older than Paige remembered—older, and smaller, and more tired. Her hair had grey in it now, her face had lines that hadn't been there before, years that Paige hadn't been around to see. But her eyes were the same—warm and nervous and full of something that looked like hope and fear mixed together.
The room was dead silent, the candles flickering, the roses casting soft shadows everywhere, and Azzi was just standing there between them like a bridge nobody knew how to cross.
"Hi, baby," Moe said, her voice breaking on the last word.
The flowers hit the floor before Paige even realized she'd dropped them, petals scattering across the hardwood.she couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't do anything except stand there and stare at the woman standing in her doorway like a ghost that had somehow stumbled into the wrong lifetime. The candles flickered around her. Azzi looked between them, her expression unreadable but her hands shaking slightly at her sides, and Paige could feel her hesitating—like she was trying to figure out if she should stay or go or dissolve into the floor. After a second that felt like an hour, Azzi made a decision, squeezing Moe's hand once before turning and walking toward the door. She didn't look back. Paige couldn't tell if she was grateful for that or not.
Paige still hadn't moved, her hands empty now, her heart pounding so loud she was sure Moe could hear it. The woman standing in front of her—her mother, who she hadn't seen in years, who she'd stopped thinking about as a real person a long time ago—was just standing there, looking at her with those familiar eyes, waiting.
"What are you doing here?"
The words came out harsher than she meant them to, sharp and jagged, and she watched Moe flinch just slightly but didn't feel bad about it. She couldn't feel bad about it. Not yet.
"No, seriously," Paige cut her off, her voice rising, "what are you doing here? You don't get to just—show up. After everything. After all this time. You don't get to just walk in like nothing happened."
Moe's hands were clasped in front of her, her knuckles white, her face pale. "I know."
"Do you? Do you know? Because I needed you. When Dad was dying—when we thought he was dying—I needed my mom. I had nowhere to go, no one to talk to, and I was supposed to be the strong one for Drew and for everyone else and I couldn't—" Her voice cracked, and she hated it, hated how small she sounded, hated that her mother was here to see her fall apart. "And you weren't there. You were never there."
"Drew needed you. He was a kid, and he needed his mom, and you just—left. How do you do that? How do you just leave your kids like that and never look back?"
Moe's eyes were wet now, but she didn't wipe them, didn't try to hide them. "It was suffocating," she said, and her voice was barely above a whisper. "That life—the danger, the fear, the constant looking over my shoulder. I couldn't breathe, Paige. I couldn't be the person I needed to be for you and Drew because I was so focused on just surviving."
"You didn't even say goodbye."
"I couldn't. If I had seen your face, I never would've left."
Paige laughed, but it wasn't funny—it was bitter and hollow and it hurt coming out. "And you think that makes it better? You think that makes it okay?"
"No," Moe said. "I don't think anything makes it okay. I know I don't deserve to be here. I know I don't deserve to see your face or hear your voice or have you call me mom ever again. But I—" She stopped, pressed her lips together, took a breath. "I just wanted to see you. One time. Just to know that you were okay. That you survived. That you became the person I always knew you could be."
Paige's throat was tight, her eyes burning, but she didn't let herself cry. Not yet. Not in front of her.
"Azzi told me you still talk about me," Moe continued, her voice softer now. "That you still think about me. And I know that doesn't mean anything—I know it doesn't change what I did—but I had to see you. Even if it's the last time. Even if you never want to hear from me again after tonight. I just needed to see your face."
Paige stood there, frozen, the words settling into her chest like stones. She wanted to be angry—she was angry, she was so angry—but underneath it all, underneath the years of hurt and abandonment and learning to be okay without her, there was something else. Something smaller. Something that just wanted her mom.
Moe wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, a messy uncoordinated gesture that reminded Paige so much of Drew it made her chest ache. "Can I have a hug?" she asked, her voice barely steady. "Just one. Just to remember what it feels like. And then I'll go."
Paige didn't answer. She couldn't. But her feet were moving before her brain caught up, crossing the room, closing the distance between them until she was standing right in front of her mother—this woman who was shorter than she remembered, smaller, more fragile.
Moe opened her arms, and Paige let herself be pulled in.
The hug was awkward at first, stiff and uncertain, neither of them sure how to fit together after so many years apart. But then Moe's arms tightened, and Paige's did too, and suddenly it wasn't awkward anymore—it was just her mom, holding her like she used to when Paige was small and the world was scary and she needed someone to make it feel less alone.
Paige didn't cry. She didn't. She just pressed her face into her mother's shoulder and breathed.
Moe let go first, stepping back slowly, her hands lingering on Paige's arms for a second before dropping to her sides. She was smiling, but her eyes were full of tears, and she looked like she was trying to memorize every detail of Paige's face before she walked away.
"Take care of yourself, baby," Moe said, her voice cracking. "Be happy. That's all I ever wanted for you."
Sh turned toward the door.
The word came out before she could stop it, soft and almost unfamiliar on her tongue—she hadn't said it in years, hadn't let herself say it, had filed it away in the same drawer where she kept all the things she wasn't allowed to feel. But it was out now, hanging in the air between them, and Moe froze with her hand on the door handle.
She turned around slowly, her face crumpled, her eyes already spilling over.
Paige's voice was shaking. "Please don't go."
The tears came then—hot and fast and impossible to stop—and Paige didn't try to hide them, didn't try to be strong, didn't try to be anything except what she was someone who had missed her mom for way too long and was too tired to pretend otherwise anymore.
Moe opened her arms again, and Paige walked into them, fast, desperate, burying her face in her mother's shoulder like she was a little kid again and the world was too big and she just needed someone to hold her.
"I missed you so much," she sobbed, the words muffled against Moe's shirt.
Moe held her tighter, her hand coming up to cradle the back of Paige's head "I missed you every single day," Moe whispered. "Every single day, Paige. I never stopped."
They stood there, in the middle of the candlelit room, surrounded by flowers and shadows and all the years they'd lost, holding onto each other like they were afraid to let goAnd for the first time in a long time, Paige let herself believe that maybe—just maybe—things could be okay.
The hospital roof was cold this time of night, azzi had been standing here for maybe thirty minutes her elbows resting on the railing, her fingers wrapped around a cigarette she'd lit mostly out of habit and partly because if she wasn't doing something with her hands she was going to lose her mind entirely.
She didn't smoke. Not really. Only when things got too loud inside her head and she needed something to make the noise stop. And right now, things were very loud.
She took a slow drag, let the smoke curl out of her mouth and disappear into the dark sky, and tried not to think about what was happening at Paige's mansion right now. Were they fighting? Were they crying? Had Paige thrown her mother out, or had they fallen into each other's arms like nothing bad had ever happened between them? Azzi didn't know, and not knowing was somehow worse than any of the actual possibilities.
The cigarette was almost gone when she heard the door open behind her.
She didn't turn around. Probably just a janitor, or one of the night shift workers taking a break—
"Since when do you smoke?"
Azzi's heart stuttered.She knew that voice, knew it so well it felt like part of her own heartbeat, and she still didn't turn around because if she turned around she'd have to look at Paige and if she looked at Paige she'd have to figure out what to say and she didn't know what to say, didn't know if things were good or bad or somewhere in between.
Paige came up beside her anyway, resting her own elbows on the railing, her shoulder brushing against Azzi's.
"Only when I need to stop thinking," Azzi said finally, her voice quieter than she meant it to be.
Paige reached over, gentle, and took the cigarette from her fingers, grinding it out against the concrete floor with the toe of her shoe. Azzi didn't protest. Didn't say anything. Just watched the last tendrils of smoke fade into nothing and wished her thoughts would disappear that easily.
"So," Azzi said, still not looking at Paige, "how'd it go with your mom?"
Paige didn't answer right away. Instead she shifted, turning her body toward Azzi, and reached out to take Azzi's arms—gently, carefully, like she was afraid Azzi might pull away—and turned her so they were facing each other properly.
Azzi still didn't look up. She stared at Paige's collarbone instead, at the collar of her jacket, anywhere but those eyes that always saw too much.
Paige's hand came up, fingers curling under Azzi's chin, lifting her face until their eyes finally met. The rooftop was dark, but Paige's eyes caught the light from somewhere—the moon, maybe, or the city below—and they were soft, not angry or hurt or any of the things she'd been bracing herself for.
"What's wrong?" Paige asked.
Azzi swallowed. "I thought you might be mad."
"About—" She gestured vaguely, like that explained everything. "I didn't know if you wanted her back in your life. I didn't know if I was making things worse by getting involved. And now you're here, and I can't tell if you're okay or if you hate me or if you just came here to tell me to stay out of your family's business."
Paige's thumb brushed across her cheek, soft and steady. "Stop."
"Just—stop. You didn't ruin anything. You didn't make anything worse. You gave me my mom back, Azzi. You did that. You."
Azzi's throat tightened. "I didn't know if that's what you wanted."
"It's what I needed." Paige's voice was quiet, but sure. "I didn't know it until she was standing there, but it's what I needed."
They stood there for a moment, the city humming below them, the night air cold against their faces, and Azzi felt something loosen in her chest—just a little, just enough to breathe.
"You didn't let me finish earlier," Paige said.
Azzi frowned. "Finish what?"
"My speech. The one you interrupted when you dropped the whole mom bombshell." Paige's mouth curved slightly,kinda killed the vibe, not gonna lie.”
Azzi let out a lil laugh, "Sorry for ruining your romantic evening with my emotional baggage."
"You're forgiven, Although it could’ve been nicer with the candles and flowers and some food”
Paige shifted closer, her hands finding Azzi's, her fingers lacing through them.
“Let me restart and like I said, I'm not good at this," Paige started, The words thing. The feelings thing. You already know that. But I'm gonna try anyway, so just—bear with me, okay?"
Azzi nodded, not trusting her voice.
"When I met you, I was a mess. Like, a complete disaster. My dad was dying—or so I thought—Drew was scared all the time, and I was just going through the motions, trying to keep everyone else from falling apart while I was falling apart myself. And then you walked into that exam room, and you were so—" she paused, searching for the word, "—steady.
Azzi's heart was pounding.
"You saved my dad's life," Paige continued.
It’s like you were born to fix things that other people had broken."
"That's literally my job."
"It's not just your job. It's who you are." Paige squeezed her hands. "And you didn't stop there. You gave me my mom back. You brought her to my door when you didn't have to, when it would've been easier to just let her leave and never say anything. But you didn't. Because you wanted me to have the chance to decide for myself."
Azzi's eyes were burning, but she didn't look away.
"And it's not just me. Kate has Veronica because of you. Drew—Drew hasn't smiled like that with anyone He laughs with you, like really laughs. Paige took a breath, her hands tightening around Azzi's.
"You fixed everything, Azzi. You fixed my family. You fixed me. And I didn't even know I was broken until you showed up and started putting the pieces back together."
Azzi's voice came out barely a whisper. "Paige—"
"Let me finish." Paige's eyes were wet now, but she was smiling, this soft shaky smile that made Azzi's heart ache. "I fixed some things too, you know. While you were busy saving lives and reuniting families, I was doing my own work."
Azzi raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah?"
"Yeah." Paige's smile widened, just a little. "I rebuilt everything. The warehouses, the shipments, the contracts. All the damage I caused when I was angry and stupid and hurt—I fixed it. Every last bit. It took a while, and it wasn't easy, but it's done. The Fudds are back on their feet. Your family's not losing anything because of me anymore."
Azzi stared at her. "You—when did you—"
"Does it matter when?" Paige shrugged, like it wasn't a big deal, like she hadn't just casually dropped a bombshell of her own. "I just wanted you to know. That you're not the only one who's been trying to make things right."
Azzi didn't know what to say. Her chest was too full, her throat too tight. "I was trying to tell you this earlier," Paige said. "Before everything got complicated. Before my mom showed up and I forgot how to speak. I was trying to tell you that you're special to me. That you're important. That ever since you came back into my life—really came back, not the mission version—I've been happier than I've ever been. And I know I'm not good at saying this stuff, and I know I mess up a lot, but I need you to know that I—"
She stopped. Swallowed. Her eyes were locked on Azzi's, and Azzi could see the words sitting right there, right on the tip of her tongue, waiting to be said.
Say it, Azzi thought. Say it.
"You complete me," Paige said, and her voice cracked on the last word. "And I love you. I love you so much it drives me crazy. I love you when you're being cold and distant and acting like you don't care. I love you when you're soft and warm and you let me hold you in the morning. I love you when you're saving lives and when you're smoking on rooftops and when you're looking at me like you're trying to decide if I'm worth the trouble."
Paige laughed, a little breathless, a little wet.
"I love you, Azzi. I love you, and I don't want to spend another second without saying it."
Azzi didn't let her finish. She couldn't.She pulled Paige in by the front of her jacket, crushing their mouths together in a kiss that was desperate and deep and way too much for a hospital rooftop at midnight. Paige made a sound against her lips—surprise, maybe, or relief—and then her hands were in Azzi's hair, her fingers tangling.when they finally pulled apart, both of them were shaking.
"I love you too," Azzi whispered, her forehead pressed against Paige's. "I love you too, you absolute disaster."
Paige laughed, the sound wet and bright. "Yeah?"
Paige pulled back just enough to look at her, her eyes still wet, her smile still shaky, but steadier now "Will you be mine? Like, for real? Girlfriend, wife, soulmate—I wanna spend the rest of my life with you. However long that is. Wherever we end up."
Azzi's heart was so full she thought it might burst. "On one condition."
"We end all of it. The mafia stuff, the wars, the being the scary big family that everyone's afraid of. We live normal lives. Like normal people."
Paige didn't even hesitate. "Deal."
Azzi narrowed her eyes. "You're not gonna argue?"
"Do you want me to argue?"
"No, I just—" Azzi shook her head, almost laughing. "I thought you'd need a minute to process. This is a big deal."
"I've been processing since the moment I met you." Paige reached up, tucking a strand of hair behind Azzi's ear. "I don't need to be the don. I don't need to run the city. I just need you. And Drew. And my dad. That's enough."
Azzi's throat tightened. "I don't want our kids to feel different. I don't want them to grow up scared, or alone, or wondering if their parents are going to make it home at night." She paused, her voice softening. "I want them to have what I didn't have."
Paige's expression shifted, something warm and wondering spreading across her face. "Kids, huh?"
Azzi's face went red. "That's—that's not what I—I meant hypothetically—" but Paige was looking at her with this insufferable smile, and the words died on her tongue. "Shut up," she said instead.
Azzi kissed her again, and Paige laughed against her mouth, and the city hummed below them, and somewhere out there, the world was still spinning, still complicated, still full of people who wanted things they couldn't have.
But up here, on this rooftop, with Paige's arms around her and the cold night air biting at her cheeks, Azzi felt like she already had everything she needed.
The house was smaller than the mansion.
Paige had sold it six months after her father was discharged from the hospital, six months after she'd officially stepped down as don and handed the reins to someone who actually wanted them. She hadn't looked back. Not once.
Their new place was in a quiet neighborhood, the kind of neighborhood where neighbors waved at each other and kids played in the street and no one knew who the Bueckers used to be. There was a garden in the back—Azzi's project and a basketball hoop in the driveway that Drew had insisted on, and a porch swing that Paige had built herself, poorly, but it held.
It was Sunday morning, and the kitchen smelled like pancakes and eggs “
Azzi was at the stove, flipping the last batch, while Paige sat on the counter to her left—still sitting on the counter, even though Azzi had told her a hundred times to get down—with a mug of coffee in her hands and a sleepy smile on her face.
"You're in the way," Azzi said without looking up.
"I'm emotionally supporting."
Azzi snorted, sliding the last pancake onto the stack and turning off the burner. She'd just turned to grab the plates when Paige reached out and caught her wrist, tugging her closer until Azzi was standing between her legs, looking up at her with raised eyebrows.
"You're very needy this morning," Azzi said.
Paige agreed, and leaned down to kiss her.
Azzi let herself sink into it, her hands finding Paige's waist, her eyes falling closed.
"Gross," came Drew's voice from the doorway. "It's too early for this."
Paige pulled back just enough to glare at him. "It's ten o'clock."
Drew shuffled to the table, still in his pajamas, his hair a complete disaster, and started loading pancakes onto his plate before anyone else had even sat down. He was taller than he'd been a year ago, his voice deeper, but his smile was the same—wide and warm and ridiculously contagious.
"Where's Dad and mom?" Paige asked, pouring herself more coffee.
"Still asleep," Drew said around a mouthful of pancake. " and the nurse said dad could go home next week if everything looks good."
Paige nodded, her expression softening. Bob had been in and out of the hospital for months, the treatments working slowly but surely, and the doctors were optimistic—cautiously, but optimistic. He'd be home soon. For good, this time.
"Veronica and Kate are coming over later," Azzi said, sitting down across from Drew with her own plate. This was her life now. Pancakes and basketball and arguments about nothing. Quiet mornings and loud dinners and a house that felt like a home. It wasn't flashy, wasn't dangerous, wasn't anything like the world she'd grown up in.
After breakfast, Paige found her on the porch swing, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, watching the sun climb higher over the rooftops. She sat down beside her without saying anything, and Azzi leaned into her, letting her head rest against Paige's shoulder.
"Hey," Paige said after a minute.
Azzi thought about it. About the life she'd left behind, the wars she'd fought, the person she used to be. About the woman sitting next to her, who'd changed everything without even trying. About the family she'd found, the home she'd built, the future she'd never let herself imagine.
"Yeah," she said. "I think I am."
Paige pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "Good."
They sat there, watching the sun rise over their quiet neighborhood, their small house, their ordinary life.
It wasn't the ending either of them had expected.
But it was exactly where they were supposed to be.
