#lesbihahnarmy

When I left Boston three years ago, I told myself it wouldn’t be for long. My Dad had been suffering from what we thought was indigestion. But several tests later and we were staring at a pancreatic Cancer diagnosis. Soon my Mom was spiralling as she struggled to carry everything on her own, so I did what I thought I needed too.

I packed my suitcase, I told Garrett I needed a few weeks leave from work, and I told Lilly I’d be home soon. That was my plan, but grief, loss - it has its own ideas and it didn’t move to my schedule.

My Dad had been a giant in forensic pathology. He was the kind of name that filled lecture halls and filled the pages of reference books alike. Growing up in his shadow meant constantly proving I’d earned my own place in the room. Every promotion, every nod of approval felt like it came with the caveat: “She’s Richard Ellison’s daughter.” It became part of the reason why I decided to leave Oregon.

So when Garrett, who’d been a friend of the family since I was a kid, reached out to offer me a job as one of the medical examiners in the Boston office, I nearly snatched his hand off. With Garrett it felt like finally, someone saw me, and not just the daughter of a legend.

Being in Boston became everything. It finally felt like I had room to breathe, that I had the space to make a name for myself on my own terms. I made new friends, who were more than just my colleagues and I found her - Lilly Labowski.

Lilly wasn’t my stereotypical type, but there was just something about her that drew me in. She was sharp, funny, quietly intelligent, but she also had an emotional edge that never felt too much or messy, just alive. From day one, her presence could calm me. But god, she also knew how to push my buttons, to challenge me in a way no one else had. It wasn’t love at first sight, but it was damn close.

It wasn’t long until we started dating, even against the long hours and the occasional bouts of craziness, we made it work. Until that call came in… “Mom” flashing across my phone screen at 0241 in the morning. My Dad’s condition had turned quickly. From “there’s time” to “there isn’t” in a blink.

I was sat in the family room of the hospital when I rang Lilly to tell her my Dad had passed away. Upon hearing the news she didn’t even hesitate, catching the first flight she could from Boston to Portland. That night after she landed, we sat on the back porch of my childhood home, a fleece blanket wrapped around our shoulders, looking up at the stars.

“I think I’m going to have to stay here longer than I first thought,” The words caught in my throat as I said them.

“I figured,” she murmured. “Your Mom?”

“She’s… lost,” I admitted. “And my Dad’s consultancy firm, it’s a mess without him. I thought it would be a few weeks, but….”

“…it’s not,” she finished her voice soft and a little defeated.

I turned my head to look at her, slipping my fingers between hers. “Would you ever consider… coming out here to Portland?”

Her blue eyes met mine, but the expression on her face didn’t change. Instead her hand tightened around mine.

“It’s something I’ve thought about,” she said. “Since I knew in my heart what could happen. But this… this isn’t my home Y/N. It’s yours. My job, our friends, my whole life is back in Boston.”

My eyes dropped to our joined hands. I nodded as I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat, because I understood, I did, but it didn’t mean my heart wasn’t breaking.

We didn’t break up, not officially. But my flights back to Boston got less and less, the calls became less frequent. The texts turned brief, and eventually, silence settled in where our hearts once beat together.

Then just like that, the plane banked left and the familiar skyline sat beneath me.

Home.

The Charles winding its way to the harbour, the sprawl of classic and modern… that mix of brown brick and glass and steel. As the plane got lower I felt my chest tighten and that “oh fuck” feeling settled in my stomach. I was nervous, more than I had been in a long time. I couldn’t even recall being this nervous on my first day as an intern, clutching my notes and walking into the morgue for the first time - expectation sitting heavy on my shoulders.

***

The lift vibrated under my feet as it climbed the floors. I stood there, fiddling with the cuff of my coat sleeve, trying to calm my nerves, but also, trying to ignore that flicker of hope in my chest… the one I didn’t want to get carried away with. Then came the ping, the doors sliding open, and just like that I was back.

The marble-effect walls, the Lino tiles that looked dull with wear and years of fluorescent lighting… and god that smell - Formaldehyde and stale coffee, it hit me almost immediately like no time has passed at all.

I stepped out, partly in my own world, and as I moved forward I walked straight into something hard.

“Whoa, Jesus… watch where you’re….”

The voice cut off mid-snap, and I blinked, because I recognised it instantly.

Jordan Cavanaugh.

Her expression shifted like a film reel. First annoyance, then confusion, before ending in a stunned wide eyed stare.

“No way,” Jordan said, her voice not masking the shock from my sudden appearance.

“Hi.” I smiled as it tugged harder at the corner of my lips.

“You’re kidding me.”

Jordan reached for me, her arms pulling me into a hug before her brain could even catch up. “So You’re just gonna materialise like some ghost of M.E.’s past?”

I laughed, holding her tighter than I meant to. “Guess I missed this place.”

“Bullshit,” she said, stepping back to really look at me. “You missed us.”

My throat tightened. “Yeah. I did.” I couldn’t deny it.

For a moment, Jordan tilted her head and I could see her watching me, the emotion caught in the space between us as her voice dropped into something softer, more curious.

“So what is this? A visit?”

I hesitated for half a second, then shook my head. “No. I’m staying.”

Her eyebrows lifted. “You’re back?”

I nodded. “That’s the plan.”

She blinked. “Wow. That’s… wow.” Then her smirk returned. “So what… here to sweet-talk Garrett into giving you your old job back? Flash those puppy-dog eyes, while you remind him you used to alphabetise his autopsy reports?”

I laughed, the sound low and a little too full of memory. “Eventually.”

Jordan gave me a look that was equal parts amusement and suspicion. “But not first.”

I didn’t answer her, because my eyes had drifted down the corridor to the third door on the left. Lilly’s office… I could picture it… the old radiator with the flaking paint and how it clunked to life as it heated up. Her filing cabinet, and that ridiculous line of multicoloured star-shaped magnets stuck to the side.

Jordan’s eyes followed mine, her expression softening as if she were trying to hold back a sigh, or perhaps a truth that wasn’t hers to tell.

“She’s not in there,” she said. “She’s in the Crypt with Bug. Probably hiding from the avalanche of paperwork Garrett keeps throwing at everyone.”

I smiled, because that sounded so much like Lilly, but Jordan didn’t smile back. Not fully. Her eyes held mine for a second too long, something cautious behind their dark colour. It was like she could already see the moment ahead, and wasn’t sure if she wanted to warn me or let me walk toward it blindly. It made my stomach dip.

“What?” I asked quietly.

Jordan shook her head, just a small motion, her voice soft. “Nothing. Just… brace yourself, okay? Three years, it’s a long time.”

I nodded, though I wasn’t sure if I was agreeing or just trying to steady my thudding heart.

Jordan gave me a half-smile, as if she felt a shift in the air between us and wanted to ease over it.

“We should grab a drink sometime, get a proper catch-up.”

“Yeah,” I said. “I’d like that.”

That’s when she glanced down at her watch grimacing. “I’ve gotta get to the precinct… I’m supposed to meet Woody. He’s already texted twice, which means he’s either annoyed or he brought me a sandwich his trying to stop himself from eating.”

“Tell him I say hi.” I smiled

She started to turn, then hesitated, quickly squeezing my arm. “It’s good to see you Y/N. Really.”

Then she was gone, footsteps fading down the corridor leaving me alone.

I made my way toward the Crypt, and couldn’t help thinking it felt further down the hallway than what I remembered - but then maybe everything felt further these days. My hand hovered at the door for a second before I knocked twice. I pushed it open, not waiting for a reply and stepped inside.

The familiar coolness of the room settled over me like a second skin. Antiseptic, that low electric hum from the overhead extractor fan. Nothing had changed, yet somehow everything had. Bug was at the microscope, focused as his hand rested near the slide controls.

I smiled, the nerves loosening just slightly. “Anything interesting under the lens?”

He looked up, blinking slowly and then froze.

For a second, he didn’t say anything he just stared, before the smallest, warmest smile crept across his face.

“Well… isn’t this a surprise.”

I laughed. “Good to see you too.”

He crossed the room quickly, folding me into a hug that felt steadier than I expected.

“What are you doing here?” Bug asked, pulling back just enough to look at me properly.

“I’m moving back to Boston,” I said, my voice steady even though my pulse had kicked up again. “Thought it was time I came home.”

But even as I said it, my eyes had already drifted past him, because Lilly was right there.

She was stood behind one of the metal tables, a stack of supply boxes in front of her, high enough that I could only see her from the shoulders up. But it was enough. God, it was enough.

She wasn’t smiling at me, not exactly… she was just still, watching me with uncertain blue eyes. It was if she wasn’t sure I was real -like the sound of my voice saying home had knocked something loose inside of her.

I could feel the shift of old recognition between us, deep and quiet, pressing through the last three years and the silence of everything we hadn’t said.

Lilly looked different. Not in a way I could define, but something about her face, her posture, seemed to have changed since I last saw her. But even so, she was beautiful.

“Hi, Lilly.”

She didn’t speak, not right away. Instead she just looked at me like I’d appeared out of a dream she hadn’t had in years. Her expression wasn’t cold. If anything, it was the opposite. Open, stunned, maybe even quietly shaken. Like the sight of me had reached somewhere deep before she had the chance to brace herself.

Her blue eyes didn’t move from mine, and when she finally did speak, her voice was softer than I remembered… but it was still her.

“…You’re back.”

“Yeah,” I said gently. “I’m back.”

A beat passed between us, as if she didn’t know what to say next.

“I didn’t know…” she started, then stopped… her brow tightening just slightly. “I didn’t know you were in town.”

I nodded. “It wasn’t really planned. I just… felt like it was time.”

Her lips parted, and I thought she might say something else, but then she shifted. Her eyes dropped briefly to the floor, before she stepped out slowly from behind the metal table, moving around the boxes.

And that’s when I saw it… The swell of her stomach beneath her dark blue dress.

Rounded and undeniably pregnant.

My breath suddenly caught in my throat, because just like that, the hope I’d carried with me across state lines, cracked and fell away.

Lilly had moved on, of course she had.

I felt my eyebrows lift before I could stop them. It was part reflex, part effort to keep my voice steady.

“Wow,” I said, forcing a small smile. “Congratulations.”

Lilly stood still, there was something unreadable in her eyes. Not pride, not exactly joy, just… stillness. Maybe even guilt.

Behind me, Bug cleared his throat a little too quickly.

“I should, uh… I’ve got some results I need to go check,” he said, already moving toward the door. “Yeah. Gonna check on that. I’ll, um… give you two a minute.”

He was gone before I could say anything else.

Lilly moved closer, her hand resting lightly against the side of her stomach as her eyes never left mine. The silence stretched a few seconds too long, before she pulled in a breath, trying for steady.

“How long have you been back?” she asked.

I cleared my throat. “A couple of hours.”

Her eyebrows lifted a little. “And you came straight here?”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

She didn’t push. She didn’t have to. We both knew why. But she looked away for a beat, as if she needed a moment before she could lift her eyes to look at me.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” she asked quietly.

I swallowed, trying to get my tone even.

“I wasn’t sure I was,” I admitted. “Not until I booked the ticket, and even then… I didn’t know…

My eyes flicked down to her stomach, then quickly back up. “Whether you’d even want to see me.”

Her lips parted. Something raw flickering across her face.

“I’d always wan- ” she started, then stopped abruptly, jaw tightening. Her hand sliding protectively across her bump like a reflex.

It shouldn’t have, but that movement… it hurt more than I was ready for. I tried to breathe past it. “Why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant?”

Lilly’s gaze faltered… not away from me exactly, but inward. Like she was searching for the version of herself who knew how to answer that.

“I didn’t know I had too,” she said, barely above a whisper.

I didn’t say anything right away. This wasn’t how I pictured it… not in any of the versions I’d played over in my mind. In all those what-ifs, there was still something between us, still a thread to pick at. Still time. But standing here now, watching her hand trace over the gentle curve of her stomach, I felt that thread unravel and fray between my fingers.

“I’m happy for you,” I said quietly, the words barely clearing my throat.

I was. I truly was… even if it felt difficult to admit. Lilly would be the kind of mother a child would be lucky to have: bright, endlessly loving in all the quiet, everyday ways that mattered. But it hurt… because once, that dream had been ours.

It had lived in late-night conversations, tangled limbs under the duvet, whispered maybe-somedays on the sofa. It had been part of the life we hadn’t built yet, the one we talked about when the world felt safe enough to imagine a future. But now… it belonged to someone else.

Her - and someone else.

I swallowed harder than I meant to and tried to keep my voice steady and light as I asked what I wanted - and didn’t want to know in equal measure.

“Who’s…. Who’s the father, anyone I’d know?”

Lilly didn’t flinch. But her gaze dropped just for a second before her eyes held mine.

“Jeffrey Brandau.”

His name landed hard and familiar.

“The DA,” I said, mostly to myself opposed to Lily. “That Jeffrey Brandau?”

She nodded once.

I gave her a small, automatic nod in return. “He always seemed like a good guy.”

Lilly didn’t answer, she didn’t confirm or deny, she just stood there, hand still resting over her stomach, her expression unreadable… She didn’t offer anything more, and I didn’t ask. Not because I didn’t want to know but because I wasn’t sure I could take the answers.

That’s when the doors opened behind me.

“Bug said you were here,” came Garrett’s voice.

I turned just as he stepped into the room, his usual half-smile already on his face.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were flying in?” he asked, crossing the space and pulling me into a quick hug.

The second his arms wrapped around me, I felt it, that subtle shift. His body stiffened just slightly, not from me… but from the weight of whatever he’d just walked in on.

I plastered on a smile. “Didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.”

Garrett pulled back, his eyes flicking between me and Lilly, reading the room faster than I could pretend it didn’t need reading. Thankfully, he didn’t ask. Instead, he placed a hand at the small of my back.

“Come on. Walk with me,” he said, already steering me toward the door.

I let him, surprisingly grateful. My legs felt heavier than they should have, and as we stepped into the hallway, I glanced over my shoulder. Lilly was still standing there, her eyes still on me.

“I’ll see you around then.”

She gave me a small, tight smile. “Yeah.”

Just that - Yeah. No promise. No softness. Just… a yeah. I turned back around, my heart thudding.

Garrett talked as we walked; updates about the lab, renovations, staff changes, but his voice rolled over me like static. I nodded, smiling in the right places as I tried to look like someone who hadn’t just had the air knocked out of them in the middle of a morgue. We reached his office as he held the door for me, then closed it behind us with a quiet click. Before he could say anything else, I spun around.

“Why didn’t you tell me Lilly was pregnant?”

Garrett froze mid-step, his expression tightening. “It wasn’t my news to tell.”

“Bullshit, Garrett,” I snapped, more raw than I meant. “You knew I still cared about her.”

His brow furrowed, but he didn’t look away.

“You’re right,” Garrett said eventually. His voice low. “I did… which is exactly why it wasn’t my news to tell.”

I stared at him, incredulous because he was serious. But I couldn’t stop. The words just kept coming, my pulse thudding too hard in my chest.

“And she’s with Jeffrey Brandau?” I scoffed. “Come on, Garrett. Really? Mr. Stiff-as-a-board, always-in-a-pressed-suit, wouldn’t-crack-a-smile-if-it-killed-him? He seems like the kind of guy who irons his socks. She’s gonna spend the rest of her life talking about case law and espresso roast profiles?”

I was spiralling. I knew it. But I didn’t care.

“I mean, maybe it’s what she wanted… the safe option, the boring one. Sure. That makes sense.

She traded me in for a man who probably dreams of legal precedent and writes love letters on courthouse stationery.

Garrett didn’t say anything. He just stood watching me with a measured appearance… until eventually he cut in.

“She’s not with him anymore.”

The words stopped me cold.

“…What?”

He shifted, leaning back slightly against the edge of his desk.

“She found out she was pregnant after she called off their wedding.”

My stomach dropped.

“Their wedding?” I echoed, like I hadn’t heard him right. “Jesus Christ, this just keeps getting better.”

He nodded, but his expression didn’t carry judgment… just truth.

“They were engaged. Briefly. But the day of the wedding Lilly called it off, she couldn’t go through with it.”

“But he’s still… around?”

Garrett tilted his head. “From what I understand, yes. But they’re not in a relationship. Haven’t been since before the pregnancy. You need to talk to Lilly about this…not me.”

I ran a hand through my hair, pacing two steps before turning back toward him, the burn still in my chest.

“What I needed,” I said tightly, “was for my friends to not shut me out of this.”

Garrett’s jaw clenched, just slightly. “No one shut you out.”

“No one told me she was pregnant, had gotten engaged or called off her own wedding.”

“No one told you because we didn’t know where you stood,” he said. “Because for a long time, it felt like you didn’t know either.”

I swallowed hard because his words had hit home.

He sighed. “Look… I get it. This is a lot. But you walked away, and things kept moving. That’s not about shutting you out. That’s just… life.”

I couldn’t meet his eyes… because I might not have walked away through choice, but I also knew he wasn’t wrong… and God, it still hurt.

Garrett let the silence settle again, not to be awkward - just deliberate. He watched me for a long beat, like he was weighing the air in the room. Measuring my posture, and the things I hadn’t said yet.

Then, finally: “Why are you really here?”

The question landed gently, there was no edge, no accusation… but I still didn’t meet his eyes, I didn’t have to. He already knew why.

I stared down at the floor, then out the window. My voice was quiet when I answered.

“You know why.”

Because whatever plan I had… it was in tatters now, scattered in pieces across the cold tile of the Crypt, along with my heart.

Garrett nodded, the faintest sigh leaving his chest. He didn’t press me further on the matter, he didn’t need to.

“You staying?”

I paused, swallowing before I answered.

“Yeah,” I said. Then, softer: “I think I am.”

I glanced up at him, trying to smile but it felt too thin to stick.

“I still want to be back here. In Boston. Even if it’s… different now.”

He gave a slow nod, stepping around the desk, his arms crossed loosely.

“Looking for a job?”

I huffed a breath, not quite a laugh. “I thought I was.” I met his eyes. “Now I’m not so sure.”

Something in Garrett’s face shifted. That stern edge he wore so well softened. It wasn’t pity, but something else, something closer to care, concern even.

“You’ve still got a home here,” he said gently. “Even if it doesn’t look like the one you left.”

His words hit me… I hadn’t realised how much I’d been needing to hear that until I found myself blinking back tears.

As if sensing what his words had done, Garrett pushed off the desk and came to stand in front of me. He placed a hand on my shoulder. In that firm, familiar way that was just so him. The kind of touch that held steady without needing to hold tight.

“You don’t have to figure it all out today. But if… when… you want to come back… there’s room for you here.”

I nodded, unable to speak for a second. My throat was too tight.

“Thanks,” I finally managed.

***

I was back in my hotel room, hair wrapped in a towel, another cinched around my body that was still warm from the hot shower that had barely taken the edge off.

My laptop was open on the bed beside me, tabs of rental listings stacked on the screen: studios, one-bedrooms, a couple of too expensive ones I had no business considering. Places in Back Bay, Somerville, a little walk-up near Jamaica Plain that reminded me of when I first moved to Boston, when everything had felt new and possible.

But I wasn’t really looking at them, because my head was elsewhere. I just couldn’t stop thinking about Lilly. The way she’d looked at me. The way she didn’t say anything. The weight of the Jeffery’s name and how it landed like a closing door. Except… maybe that door hadn’t closed, not completely. Not with how she looked at me when I said I wanted to stay.

God, I couldn’t stop replaying it.

I glanced at my phone. The text screen was still blank… it had been for ten, fifteen minutes now - maybe more.

Just her name at the top… “LILLY”

I didn’t want to push her. I certainly didn’t want to make things worse , but I needed to see her.

Even if it was just to talk. Even if it was just to start somewhere.

So I took a breath, steadied myself and started to type:

Hey

I know today was a lot… for both of us.

I wasn’t sure what to say back there. To be honest I’m still not sure now. But I’d really like to see you.

No pressure. I just think we should talk.

xx

I stared at the message for a second longer than I needed to, my thumb hovering before I hit send.

The moment it left, I dropped the phone onto the bed like it was hot in my hand. I didn’t want to sit there and watch the screen like some lovesick teenager. So I moved back to my laptop, and continued clicking through rental listings with numb fingers.

More Brownstones. More Walk-ups. More Overpriced loft conversions. None of them felt like I wanted to live there… I paused on one… some polished shoebox in Cambridge with white walls and track lighting, when my phone buzzed next to me.

My stomach flipped so hard I nearly knocked the laptop off my knees. I reached for the phone, my hand shaking just enough to make it clumsy.

Hi

Today was a lot. You were the last person I expected to see. But you’re right, I think we should talk.

Are you free tonight? x

I stared at her message like it might vanish if I blinked too hard.

Are you free tonight?

My fingers moved before I’d even fully caught my breath.

Yeah I’m free.

Whenever and wherever works for me. Just say the word. xx

I hit send before I could overthink, before I had a chance to backspace, rewrite or spiral into whatever this might turn into.

Lilly’s reply came faster than I expected, like maybe she’d been holding the phone waiting for mine.

You could come here if that’s okay?

It’s just a bit easier being at home right now.

I don’t have the energy for cafés and strangers.

7:30? x

Of course she wouldn’t want to go out. I could imagine her, probably curled up on her old velvet sofa, the one we’d spent rainy Sundays on watching chick flicks, but now propped up with pillows and rest and whatever her doctor told her she needed.

Your place is perfect.

I’ll see you soon xx

I hit send, dropped the phone on the duvet and moved the laptop off my lap. The towel around my body slipped an inch as I moved. I reached up, yanked the one from my head, and dropped it on the floor before stepping toward the suitcase I hadn’t fully unpacked.

God.

What did you wear to your ex-girlfriend’s apartment when she was pregnant with another man’s child and had just agreed to see you?

Jeans… Apparently. I went for the dark denim safe kind, not too tight, not too casual. A black light knit jumper, a little softer than armour but maybe close enough. It made my shoulders look steadier than they felt, like I could hold myself together if I tried hard enough.

I ran a brush through my hair, pulling it into something that looked deliberate, then leaned toward the mirror and swiped on the faintest touch of mascara.

When I caught my reflection on the way out of my room, I forced a breath. This wasn’t about fixing anything. Not yet. Maybe not ever. This was just… a conversation with the woman I had never stopped loving.

***

I stood outside of Lilly’s front door, the nerves twisting tight in my stomach. My hand hovered just above the wood, knuckles grazing the grain. I remembered this door. I’d stood here a hundred times before… usually with Thai food and a stupid grin, or key in hand ready to let myself in.

I still had that key. Back in the house in Oregon, in a trinket box on my dressing table. I never had the heart to throw it out.

I knocked twice. A beat passed, and then I heard movement - the quiet thud of bare feet up the hallway, followed by the soft turn of the lock.

The door opened and Lilly stood there. Hair down now, framing her face in soft waves. No makeup, or barely any - not that she ever needed it. She was in grey joggers and a pale tee that hugged her gently, the fabric pulled just slightly around the curve of her belly, making the reality of everything hit all over again.

She looked… beautiful, and so familiar it ached.

“Hi,” I said, pushing a hand back through my hair, trying to calm myself.

Her blue eyes held mine. “Hey,” she said quietly. Then, with a small nod, she stepped back and opened the door wider. “Come on in.”

The door clicked shut behind us and the scent of her apartment met my nose… Rose, vanilla, and that warm homely smell, even if it had been years since this space had felt like my home.

I stood there for a second, caught in the pull of it all. The hallway felt smaller than I remembered, narrower maybe. Or maybe my mind, my heart… was to full of all the versions of us that used to be here. The pair of us tangled in half-finished conversations, dumb laughter, soft hands and slower kisses pressed into doorframes and…

God, that night.

We’d been out drinking with the team. Jordan’s laugh echoing down the street as we all stumbled home. And us… we barely made it through the door before it all unraveled. My back hit the wall, her hands were everywhere, mine tangled in her hair, her breath hot against my throat…

I blinked hard, pushing the memory aside like smoke I could walk through. Lilly was already ahead of me, padding barefoot down the hall. I followed her into the living room, the hush of the space wrapping around us. Same rug. Same bookshelf. Same low lamp in the corner that cast everything in a golden hue.

I slipped off my coat and folded it over the arm of the nearest chair, trying not to fidget, trying not to feel like a stranger in a place that had once known me so well.

“You want anything?” she asked, gesturing vaguely toward the kitchen. “Tea? Water?”

“I’m fine,” I said, my voice softer than I meant it to be.

Lilly nodded and eased herself down onto the sofa with a slow, practiced kind of grace. She shifted a pillow behind her back and exhaled, one hand instinctively resting over her bump as she settled.

“How are you doing?” I asked gently, taking the armchair opposite.

“I’m fine,” Lilly said, leaning back carefully, like her body had learned how to move with a new kind of awareness. “Just tired. It feels like that’s all I am these days.”

I nodded, eyes flicking down to the gentle swell of her stomach. “How far along are you?”

“Five months,” she replied, a quiet smile touching her lips.

Her hand settled over her bump again, fingers lightly splayed. I don’t think she even realised she was doing it… it just looked - instinctive. Like her body had decided to protect something before her mind could catch up.

“That’s… it’s good to see you doing okay,” I said, and I meant it, even if it made my heart ache.

Lilly looked at me then, a little more directly than before. “What about you?” she asked. “How are you doing?”

I shifted in the chair, trying to find the version of the truth that didn’t feel too sharp in my throat.

“I’m good,” I said first, because it was the easiest place to start. “Yeah. Everything’s… good.”

She didn’t press, but I could feel her waiting.

“My Mom’s finally in a good place,” I continued. “She’s got her friends, medication that seems to be working, she’s coping. Better than I expected.”

“That’s good,” Lilly said softly.

“And the business…” I hesitated. “It doesn’t need me anymore. I thought about closing it down after Dad passed, I really did… but my Mom didn’t want that. Said it was still a piece of him for her.”

I gave a small, crooked smile. “And it was, I guess. But I’m not him. I didn’t have his depth of knowledge, his… presence. He could walk into a courtroom or a consult and people would just listen. I don’t have that.”

Lilly tilted her head. “You have something different.”

“Maybe,” I said, but my voice was quiet.

“He knew a lot of smart people. People who respected him, and they respected me because of him. So I turned the firm into something else, a platform for expert consultants. Specialists in their field. Pathology, toxicology, forensic psych. I managed the work, let them do the rest.”

“That sounds like you,” she said after a beat. “Supporting people. Being the one who keeps everything running, even if you’re not the one in the spotlight.”

I looked down at my hands, flexed them once in my lap.

“I just… didn’t want to stay in a life that wasn’t really mine,” I said, more to myself than her. “So I wanted to came back.”

I glanced up at her then, our eyes catching for a second too long.

“And now I’m here,” I added. “Trying to figure out what the hell that means.”

Lilly looked at me - Really looked.

Her eyes flicked over my face like she was trying to take in something she hadn’t been ready for earlier; something she wasn’t sure how to carry now. Her lips parted slightly. I think she was about to speak, to say something…

“I’m sorry,” I said quickly, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. “I should have told you I was coming back. It was wrong of me to just appear like that.”

She blinked, caught off guard by the apology.

“I just… I didn’t know how,” I continued, my voice softer now. “I kept telling myself there wasn’t a point. That too much time had passed. That maybe you’d moved on, and I guess… I wasn’t wrong about that.”

Lilly didn’t look away. She just let out a long breath and pushed her fingers through her hair, tucking it behind her ear as she shifted slightly on the sofa.

“I’m not with Jeffrey,” she said finally. Her voice was calm, but there was something brittle beneath it. “I found out I was pregnant after we broke up…”

“I know,” I said gently, cutting in before the silence could grow too thick between us. “Garrett told me earlier.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly. “Did he.”

“It wasn’t gossip,” I said quickly, holding my hands up a little. “He wasn’t trying to tell me anything he shouldn’t. I think… he just saw how thrown I was… and maybe he knew I wouldn’t ask you.”

Lilly didn’t say anything at first, but her mouth pressed into a line, not angry, exactly, but not easy either.

“I know about the wedding too,” I said, my voice quiet but careful. “That you called it off.”

Lilly’s eyebrows lifted. “God. Was there anything Garrett didn’t tell you?”

“Lilly…” I said softly.

I leaned forward in the chair, elbows on my knees, my hands laced loosely between them. “What’s been going on? Really. You can still talk to me.”

For a moment, I thought she’d shut me down… I mean she’d have every right to. She didn’t owe me explanations, not anymore. But then something shifted in her expression. It wasn’t full on trust, but something more adjacent.

She sighed, her gaze dropping for a beat before she looked back up at me.

“It all happened really fast,” she said. “Me and Jeffrey. The engagement. The talk of a wedding. I think I… I think I wanted it to feel right. Like if I just moved forward, then everything would settle into place.”

She paused, her thumb rubbing over the curve of her bump.

“But it didn’t. His mother hated me… well, maybe not hated, but you know the type. Polite enough, but… always something behind the smile.” She let out a small, wry laugh. “He wouldn’t stand up to her. Not really. Not at first.”

I didn’t say anything, I gave her the space and just listened.

“He came back with a ring when I called him out after an awful lunch with his Mom”, she said. “Like it was a fix. Like… this shiny thing would patch over everything else.”

Her voice thinned. “And for a minute, I let it.”

She glanced at me then, almost like she was checking how much I could take. I held her gaze, not flinching, even if it burned inside my chest.

“And after I called it off,” she continued, “I don’t know… I guess I didn’t want to be alone. I found myself stood in front of Bug.”

That one stung more than I expected it to, even though I’d seen that coming years ago.

“Lilly,” I said gently, “Bug idolises you. He always has. Even when we were together… I could see how he looked at you.”

Her blue eyes met mine, open and a little sad.

“So how come he’s not here now?” I asked, the words soft but direct.

She hesitated, looking down into her lap.

“He couldn’t deal with the baby,” she said, almost like she was ashamed of it. “Said he thought he could, but then things got real and… he panicked”.

I didn’t say anything right away. My heart ached for her, even if everything she was saying had nothing to do with me - not directly. Nonetheless, it hit that old bruise I’d never quite been able to shake off… the one with her name on it.

I sat back slightly, “So what now?” I asked softly. “What do you want now, Lilly?”

She looked at me then, really looked, and I could see the answer forming before she even said it.

“I want what’s best for her,” she said. “I want to give her the best life I can.”

My heart stilled - Her.

“You’re having a girl?” I asked, a smile tugging at the corner of my mouth before I could stop it.

Lilly smiled too. A real one this time, bright and honest. “Yeah. I found out the other day.”

My chest tightened. “Have you told anyone?”

She shook her head. “No not yet.”

That landed. Not in some big dramatic way, but quietly, like the weight of it knew exactly where to settle. She hadn’t told anyone… but she told me.

“You know I didn’t have the best upbringing,” she said after a pause, her tone gentler now. “And I just… I want it to be different for her. I want her to feel safe. Wanted… Always.”

My throat tightened.

“Me and Jeffrey might not be together,” she continued, “but he’s not a bad guy. He wants to be involved, and I want that too. He’s her Dad, after all.”

I nodded slowly, letting the words settle. There was no bitterness in her voice. No regret either. Just a calm resolution, the kind that came from figuring things out the hard way.

“She’s lucky to have you,” I said quietly. “She doesn’t even know it yet… but she is.”

Lilly’s eyes glistened, just a little, and she looked away for a second, like the weight of it was too much all at once.

I could see the emotion in her eyes, even as she tried to blink it back, gathering herself before it slipped too far past her guard.

“I need a glass of water,” she said suddenly, pushing herself to move. But I saw it, the quiet effort it took.

“I’ve got it,” I said, already rising to my feet. “Let me.”

She didn’t argue, and as I crossed into the kitchen from the corner of my eye I saw her sink back into the sofa cushions.

The muscle memory kicked in far too easily. The cupboard in the right corner… still the same one where she used to keep the glasses. I reached without thinking, my fingers finding the smooth glass. I turned on the tap, letting it run for a few seconds before filling it up.

God, I should’ve been here.

I would’ve been, in a heartbeat… if I’d known.

Why didn’t I come back sooner, why didn’t I fight harder?

Hindsight. That bitch. Always so clear after the fact.

I turned, glass in hand, to see Lilly stood there, leaning against the wall. Her hair had fallen forward slightly, her expression unreadable in that way only she could pull off.

“When I woke up this morning,” she said quietly, “I never would’ve imagined you’d be standing in my kitchen like this.”

I crossed the space between us slowly, my heart tight in my chest. I held the glass out, and as she took it, our fingers brushed. It wasn’t accidental, not quite deliberate either, but it lingered just long enough to mean something.

Her eyes stayed locked on mine, searching, trying to see past the years, the choices we made. Maybe trying to understand how the hell we’d ended up here.

“Do you ever wish we’d had a big, messy argument?” I asked softly, my voice barely above a whisper. “That we’d screamed, slammed doors, said things we didn’t mean… just so we’d have something… definitive to point to?”

Lilly’s brows pulled together, confused at first, but I went on before she could answer.

“Would it have been easier than how we slowly drifted?” I asked. “Than all that silence?” My throat tightened.

Lilly’s brows stayed furrowed, but this time I could see the emotion behind them. Not confusion now, but something heavier. Something that had clearly lived in her chest just as long as it had in mine.

“I think about that all the time,” she admitted. “Not the arguing… but the fact that we never really ended. Not properly.” She let out a soft uneven breath . “We just… stopped. And I hated that.”

I swallowed, the ache in my chest tightening.

“I never wanted to leave you,” I said. “You know that, right? It wasn’t about us… it was the situation. I didn’t have a choice.”

“I know,” she said, her voice quiet, but certain. “I do.”

She paused then, pushing her fingers through her hair, sweeping it back off her face like she needed a second to breathe, to find the words. She took a long drink from her glass and set it carefully down on the counter, almost as if she was buying herself time. Like saying whatever she was about to say out loud might shift something she wasn’t ready for.

“I regretted not going with you… to Oregon.”

Her voice caught slightly at the end. “I should’ve. I shouldn’t have even hesitated. But I did… and by the time I realised how much I missed you, how much I needed you… it felt too late. Like the door had already closed.”

Everything in me stopped. The floor didn’t shift under my feet, but it might as well have. The world just… paused. What was I supposed to do with that? With the weight of what she’d just handed me. A confession that had lived in her heart all this time, buried beneath pride, fear, and circumstance. But now it was here, in the air between us. Mine to hold and respond too. I blinked, lips parted, my voice nowhere ready.

I could feel myself swaying inward. I wanted to reach for her, to put my arms around her, bury my face in her shoulder, and will time to reverse. I wanted to take back the years we’d lost. The choices we’d made, but I knew that was impossible.

Even now, stood here in her kitchen with everything she’d just said, that path between us was still broken - but god - I still loved her, so damn much.

I never stopped.

Lilly just stood looking at me, really looking, as if she could see inside my mind, so I knew what was coming before she’d even said it.

“Y/N, why did you come back? Really.”

There was no anger in her voice, no accusation just quiet sinking gravity.

“You landed and came straight to the M.E’s office,” she went on. “You could’ve gone anywhere first. But you went there. To me. Why?”

…Because I needed to see you… Because I couldn’t stay away… Because every version of my future that didn’t have you in it felt like a lie I didn’t want to live anymore.

But I didn’t say any of that. Instead I just looked at her, heart hammering so hard I thought it would burst through my chest.

“Because…” I started, my throat tightening as I swallowed, eyes holding hers. “Because I needed to see if there was still something between us… If you felt the same as me. That even after everything… we weren’t as far gone as we thought.”

I took a breath. It felt heavier than it should have, like I’d been holding it for three years.

“I had no idea what I’d be walking into,” I admitted. “I didn’t expect this. I didn’t know. No one told me, Lilly - not Jordan, not Bug, not Nigel, not even Garrett. Not before today.”

She didn’t say anything… Not yet… But her fingers tightened on the edge of the counter, like she needed it to stay steady, her chest rising in a quiet breath, eyes not leaving mine.

I stepped closer… just one step, but it was enough to close the gap, to feel the pull between us again.

“Lilly,” I said gently, “I’m not Jeffrey. I’m not Bug. I’m not here trying to pretend like nothing’s changed, like we can rewind time. I know it wouldn’t be how it used to be. I wouldn’t want it to be. But…” My voice caught slightly, and I moved another step forward.

“I’m here now… Three years ago, my whole life changed in the space of a few weeks. Yours did too, we didn’t have a choice. Not really. I got caught in a current I had to ride out, and I’ve spent so long wondering if I could have fought harder… if I should have.”

I swallowed again, and this time I didn’t stop myself. My hand reached out and gently lifted Lilly’s from the counter, threading our fingers together. God, the way we fit. Like no time had passed at all.

Her breath caught, it was something I felt more than saw - a ripple through her, subtle but unmistakable. Her fingers didn’t pull away. If anything, they tightened slightly around mine, like she’d been waiting, but holding back.

“Lilly…” I whispered, not even knowing what I was going to say next… just needing to say something, anything, to break the weight of the moment.

I watched her look down at our hands, her lips parting slightly, brows drawn… and for the first time tonight, she didn’t hide the emotion in her blue eyes.

“I used to dream about this,” she said softly, “about what I’d say to you if you ever walked through my door again.”

She glanced up, met my gaze, as something raw flickered between us .

“But nothing I imagined felt like this. It’s not anger. It’s not bitterness. It’s just…” She shook her head gently. “It’s just you. Here. Holding my hand like no time has passed, but it has - so much has changed Y/N”.

I stepped closer, my free hand hovering near her waist but I didn’t touch.

“It’s not too late,” I said quietly. “Not if you don’t want it to be.”

Lilly blinked, her eyes glassy as they held mind, and then… slowly… she moved, close enough that my hand, the one that had been hovering at her side, melted into her; against the warmth of her body, and the gentle swell of her stomach.

“I don’t know what happens next,” she said softly, like the truth was just as terrifying as it was honest.

“Neither do I, but I’d rather figure it out with you than spend another second pretending I don’t still love you.”

Her inhale was sharp, like the words had knocked the air right out of her lungs. I watched them land… saw the flicker of panic just beneath the surface, the swell of something unspoken.

“And the baby?” she asked, “She changes everything.”

“She’s part of you now, Lilly,” I said gently, my thumb brushing against her side. “She doesn’t scare me.”

That earned me a look… one brow lifting, lips parting in something between disbelief and awe. “Really?” she said. “Even with the cravings, the backache, the hormones, and the fact that I’ve cried three times this week because I saw a dog in a jumper?”

I couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out of me. “Okay, I mean… the dog in the jumper might be a bit much.”

Lilly gave a wet little chuckle, her shoulders relaxing for the first time in what felt like hours.

“But yeah,” I added, quieter now. “Complicated? Sure. But life’s complicated. You and me…we can do this right?”

She shook her head, a small smile on her lips.

“So if you want Jeffrey to be involved,” I said, my tone steady, even though every word cost me, “that’s okay. He’s her Dad. I’ll give you - both of you - the space you need to figure that out.”

Lilly’s smile faltered just slightly, softening into something more serious. Her fingers tightening once more around mine as she squeezed them.

“The ball’s in your court, Lilly. When it comes to her. To us. I’m not going to push. I just… I needed you to know that I’m here and I’m not going anywhere unless you ask me to.”

Her fingers stayed laced with mine, her thumb brushing gently across the back of my hand like she was tethering reality to something she still wasn’t sure she could believe. Her eyes, wide and soft searched mine, like she was looking at something precious she thought she’d lost forever.

“You’re here,” she said quietly, almost to herself. “You’re really here.”

I nodded, just once, the smile spreading over my face “I am”.

A breath shuddered out of her. Her smile wavered again, as if caught between joy and fear, the edge of laughter and tears. “I don’t know how this works,” she admitted. “I mean… this?” Her free hand hovered between us. “This baby… you and me… it’s all so…”

“Messy?” I offered, gently.

“Yeah,” she breathed. “Beautiful. But messy.”

She looked at me like she wanted to memorise this moment, every inch of it before it could slip through her fingers. “I don’t have a plan. I don’t have some neat little idea of what comes next. All I know is when you walked into that lab today, my heart…” She stopped, swallowing hard and blinking fast. “It didn’t know whether to break or burst.”

I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t even move, but Lilly did… and just like that she leaned forward and kissed me.

Her lips brushed mine once, then again, a little more certain the second time. It wasn’t desperate or hungry… but a kiss full of memories and hope of what could still be.

I let my eyes close as I kissed her back, breath catching in my throat like my body couldn’t quite keep up with the moment. Her hand slid from mine to the side of my neck, resting there lightly, and I felt her thumb graze the edge of my jaw like it had never forgotten me.

The kiss deepened by a breath…not heat, not frenzy, just closeness. A soft press of her chest to mine. When she finally pulled back, her face stayed close. Our noses brushed and her eyes opened slowly, finding mine. There was a smile playing at her lips… a quiet, unsure, but very real smile.

“I didn’t mean to do that,” she whispered.

I smiled too. “I’m really glad you did.”

Lilly let out a breath of something close to relief, but it didn’t mean she pulled away. Her fingers lingered against my jaw like she was waiting for the moment to dissolve, or maybe bracing for it to become something else.

Instead, I leaned in… just a little.. and Lilly closed the space between us. This time, the kiss was more than the first, but slower than the second. There was no rush, just intention. My hand came to her cheek, thumb resting lightly beneath her eye, and I felt her lean into it. She kissed me like she was trying to remember how, but also like she’d never forgotten.

When we finally parted, her forehead rested against mine. Neither of us said anything. We didn’t need to. There’d be hard conversations ahead. Questions without answers. There’d be co-parenting dynamics and messy histories and a million things we’d need to navigate carefully.