Page 31 of Playing With Fire
Cass groaned, shaking her head. “You’re impossible,” she muttered, though the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her.
“And you like it,” Evelyn replied, her tone playful but her eyes warm.
For a moment, they just stood there, the weight of their conversation balanced by the lightness of their banter. Cass felt a sense of ease she hadn’t in weeks, a sense that maybe, just maybe, they could figure this out together. She squeezed Evelyn’s hand once more before letting go.
“Okay,” Cass said, straightening. “Let’s give this a shot. Professionally and personally. But if it gets too messy, we talk it out. Deal?”
“Deal,” Evelyn said, her smile soft but sure. She extended her hand, her expression serious but tinged with humor. “To clear communication and fewer arguments?”
Cass laughed, shaking Evelyn’s hand. “To trying not to kill each other, at least.”
They both laughed, the sound filling the room with a sense of possibility. Cass knew they had a long road ahead, but for the first time, she felt like they were on the same page. And that, she thought, was a damn good start.
EPILOGUE
5 YEARS LATER
Evelyn adjusted the lapels of her blazer, glancing out the wide glass windows of the city administration building as the late morning sun streamed in. The meeting had gone well—another discussion about expanding public safety programs into underfunded neighborhoods, one of the many initiatives she’d championed in her new role overseeing public safety for the city. It was satisfying work, work that mattered, but it didn’t consume her the way her old position had.
For years, Evelyn had defined herself by her job. The endless spreadsheets, the meticulously plotted budgets, the need to prove herself capable in every room—all of it had been her armor, her way of controlling a world that could often feel chaotic. Now, the edges of that armor had softened. She still loved structure and efficiency, but she’d learned to let a little mess in too. Life was richer for it.
As she packed up her notes and slid them into her briefcase, Evelyn thought back to how she’d resisted this role at first. When the mayor had suggested she shift her focus away from direct budget oversight, it had felt like a demotion, like she was being sidelined. But Cass, ever the pragmatist, had seen it differently.
“This is your chance to shape the big picture,” Cass had said one night as they sat on their porch, Smokey, their dog, sprawled at their feet. “You’re not losing influence; you’re gaining freedom. And honestly? Maybe you don’t need to fight every battle head-on anymore.”
Evelyn had scoffed at the time, but Cass had been right. As always.
She smiled faintly, thinking of Cass. Her wife—Evelyn still sometimes marveled at the word—had a way of grounding her in the best possible way. Where Evelyn’s mind tended to spiral with possibilities and contingencies, Cass had a gift for cutting through the noise, for reminding her what really mattered. It wasn’t that Evelyn loved her work any less now; it was that she no longer felt the need to carry the weight of the world on her own.
The phone on her desk buzzed, pulling her from her thoughts. She picked it up to see a text from Cass:
“BBQ at the station this weekend. Don’t forget to pick up the buns this time. ”
Evelyn rolled her eyes affectionately and typed back:
“One time. I forgot them one time. ”
Their banter was effortless now, a rhythm they’d found over the years. Evelyn remembered how rocky their beginning had been—how every argument had felt like a battlefield, every glance a challenge. And yet, beneath all that fire, they’d found something neither of them had expected: peace.
Sliding her phone back into her pocket, Evelyn stood and grabbed her briefcase. She had a lunch meeting with a coalition of community leaders in an hour, but for now, she allowed herself a moment to soak in the quiet satisfaction of her new life.
As she walked down the corridor toward the elevator, Evelyn reflected on how different she felt these days. She still took her work seriously—it was important, after all—but she no longerdefined her worth by her job. She had things outside of work now: shared evenings with Cass, weekend hikes with Smokey, the chaotic joy of their annual firehouse BBQs. She’d even taken up yoga, though Cass insisted her precision-obsessed brain made her look hilariously rigid in every pose. Evelyn took the teasing in stride; it was part of the give-and-take that made their life together so full.
The elevator doors slid open, and Evelyn stepped inside, greeting a few colleagues with a polite nod. She was still professional to her core, but she no longer felt the need to be the coldest, sharpest person in the room. In fact, she’d started to enjoy surprising people with the occasional joke or warm smile. Cass claimed it made Evelyn less intimidating, though Evelyn wasn’t entirely convinced.
As the elevator descended, Evelyn’s mind drifted back to Cass again. She thought about the way Cass lit up when she talked about her team, the pride she took in mentoring the younger firefighters. Cass’s work wasn’t easy, but she poured her heart into it, just as Evelyn had learned to do in her own way. Together, they’d found a balance—a partnership that worked because they respected each other’s passions.
When the elevator doors opened, Evelyn strode into the lobby, her heels clicking against the marble floor. A familiar sense of purpose filled her as she stepped out into the sunshine, but it was different now. The purpose wasn’t about proving herself or controlling everything; it was about making a difference and still having time to enjoy the life she’d built with Cass.
She stopped at a coffee cart on the corner and ordered an iced latte, the barista recognizing her and chatting briefly about a recent city initiative. Evelyn engaged easily, realizing how much she’d changed. The old Evelyn would have kept the conversationbrisk, polite but distant. Now, she found herself genuinely interested, grateful for the connection.
As she sipped her coffee and walked toward her next meeting, Evelyn felt a deep sense of gratitude. She still had ambitions, still cared about her work, but it no longer consumed her. She had Cass, their little corner of the world, and a life that felt, for the first time, whole.
For a woman who’d once believed she had to keep herself separate to stay strong, that realization was everything.
The familiar clang of the station bell echoed through the bay, signaling a new shift. Cass Harris stood near the truck, clipboard in hand, watching her crew as they moved with practiced ease. She had seen this routine play out hundreds of times over the years, but it never grew old. Every roll call, every drill, every call-out reminded her why she had fought so hard for this team, why she continued to pour her heart into the station.
Cass was no longer justCaptain Harris;she was a symbol of resilience for the Phoenix Ridge Fire Department. Her team teased her about it sometimes, calling her “the legend of Phoenix Ridge.”But Cass didn’t feel like a legend. She was just a firefighter, doing what needed to be done.