Page 22 of Playing With Fire
Cass was in the garage, overseeing a training drill. She was barking orders at her team, her tone sharp but not unkind. When she spotted Evelyn, her expression hardened, the faint smile she’d been wearing vanishing in an instant.
“Evelyn,” Cass said, her voice cool. “What brings you here?”
Evelyn cleared her throat, her palms damp. “We need to talk. In private.”
Cass’s eyes narrowed, suspicion flashing across her face. “Alright,” she said after a moment, nodding toward her office.
The walk to the office felt interminable, the silence between them heavy and oppressive. Evelyn’s heels clicked against the floor, the sound unnaturally loud in the stillness.
Once inside, Cass closed the door and crossed her arms, leaning against the desk. “What’s this about?”
Evelyn hesitated, her carefully rehearsed words evaporating under the weight of Cass’s gaze. She looked at the woman in front of her, so strong and resolute, and for the first time, she felt a pang of genuine shame.
“There’s been a directive from the city,” Evelyn began, her voice softer than she intended. “The cuts…they’re worse than we anticipated. We’re being forced to increase reductions by fifteen percent.”
Cass’s expression darkened immediately, her jaw tightening. “You’re joking.”
“I wish I were.” Evelyn forced herself to meet Cass’s eyes. “This isn’t what I wanted. I fought against it, but the decision’s out of my hands now.”
Cass’s laugh was bitter, devoid of humor. “Out of your hands? That’s convenient. You’re the one delivering the orders, Evelyn. Don’t pretend you’re some powerless messenger.”
Evelyn flinched, the words cutting deeper than they should have. “Do you think this is easy for me?” she snapped, the crack in her composure surprising even herself. “Do you think I enjoy sitting in meetings with people who see this department as nothing more than a line item on a spreadsheet? I’m trying to make this work, Cass, but I can’t perform miracles.”
Cass pushed off the desk, her anger radiating from her in waves. “You’re not trying hard enough. You’re so busy playing by their rules that you’ve forgotten what’s at stake. We’re not numbers, Evelyn. We’re people. And if you can’t see that, then maybe you shouldn’t be the one making these decisions.”
The words landed like a blow, knocking the breath out of Evelyn’s lungs. She took a step back, her hands trembling at her sides.
“Do you think I don’t know that?” she said, her voice breaking. “Every decision I make keeps me up at night, wondering if I’m doing the right thing. But this isn’t just about you or me or this department. It’s about the entire city. And sometimes, doing the right thing means making impossible choices.”
Cass shook her head, her anger giving way to something colder, more final. “No. The right thing is standing up for what’s right, no matter how hard it is. If you can’t do that, then I don’t know what we’re even doing here.”
Evelyn felt the ground shift beneath her feet, the fragile connection they’d built crumbling before her eyes. “Cass…” She reached out instinctively.
Cass stepped back, her expression unreadable. “I can’t do this anymore, Evelyn. I can’t trust you—not with my department, and not with me.”
The words hung in the air, a finality to them that made Evelyn’s chest ache. She opened her mouth to respond, but no words came.
Cass turned and walked out, leaving Evelyn standing alone in the office, the silence deafening.
Evelyn drove home in a daze, the city lights blurring past her. She gripped the steering wheel tightly, her knuckles white as she replayed the conversation over and over in her mind.
She had known this would happen. She had known that telling Cass about the cuts would drive a wedge between them, undoing whatever fragile bond they had managed to build. But knowing hadn’t prepared her for how much it would hurt.
The house felt emptier than usual when she arrived, the quiet oppressive. Evelyn dropped her bag by the door and sank onto the couch, burying her face in her hands. She had spent her entire career keeping people at arm’s length, building walls to protect herself from the pain of personal connections. She had thought she was good at it—until Cass.
Cass had torn through those walls with a force Evelyn hadn’t anticipated, leaving her vulnerable in a way she hadn’t been in years. And now, those walls felt like they were closing in on her, suffocating her with the weight of her own choices.
Evelyn stood alone in her living room, the weight of silence pressing in on her from all sides. She stared at the papers in front of her, but they blurred together in a haze, unreadable and unimportant. Her mind kept drifting back to Cass, to their last exchange. It felt like an explosion had gone off in her chest, leaving her stunned and broken, every part of her aching from the force of it.
I never should have let it get this far.
The thought repeated itself like a mantra, echoing through the empty spaces of her mind. She had known the risks, of course. She had known the consequences of letting someone like Cass into her world, into the space where professional decisions and personal emotions never intersected. She’d always kept them separate—kept her guard up, her walls high. But somehow, somewhere along the way, she had allowed those walls to crack. Maybe it was the long hours spent arguing, the way Cass had been so fiercely passionate, so alive with conviction that had drawn Evelyn in. Or maybe it was the quiet moments when their gazes lingered a little too long or when Cass had said something that made Evelyn’s heart flutter against her will. Either way, it didn’t matter now.
I should’ve known better.
The truth, of course, was that Evelyn hadn’t allowed herself to think about the consequences, hadn’t let herself truly consider what would happen when the inevitable clash came. She had convinced herself it was manageable, that she could compartmentalize the relationship, keep it tucked neatly away from the professional decisions that needed to be made. Butnow, with the finality of their words hanging in the air between them, Evelyn realized how wrong she had been.
She never should have let herself care, never should have allowed that dangerous spark of attraction to turn into something more. The lines had been blurred from the start, and she’d been foolish enough to think she could navigate both worlds without them colliding. But they had. And now it had all come crashing down.