A'ishah's POV

The restaurant was buzzing with warmth and laughter, the scent of garlic butter and freshly baked bread filling the air. Jas and Lyka were teasing Nicolas and Ashley over their never-ending food rivalry, while Rebecca was shaking her head as she sipped her drink.

I should’ve been enjoying this. This moment of normalcy after everything.

But my appetite had vanished.

I kept pushing the pasta around my plate, barely hearing the conversation. My mind had been restless all day, a quiet tension settling in my bones ever since I filed that last motion for the case. I tried to shake it off, tried to just be here, with them.

Then my phone buzzed.

I glanced at the screen. Jana.

Something inside me twisted. I excused myself, standing up and stepping away from the table. My fingers felt stiff as I swiped to answer.

"Jana?"

"A'ishah, do you know that they have transferred Maxine to the city jail?”

My breath caught.

The noise of the restaurant dimmed into nothing, replaced by the dull roar in my ears.

I gripped my phone tighter. "What? When?”

“Yesterday.”

“And you're just telling me now?!”

I turned away from the restaurant, moving toward the quiet corner near the entrance. My heartbeat drummed against my ribs, a sick feeling settling in my stomach.

City jail.

I knew what that meant. It wasn’t just another holding facility. It was different. Harsher. Less controlled. The people in there weren’t just awaiting trial; some were already convicted criminals.

My throat felt dry. "Was there opposition? An appeal?"

Jana sighed. "Denise, as her lawyer, tried, but it didn’t work. They pushed it through fast." A pause. "Did you know this was happening?"

No. I didn’t.

And I should have.

I was the prosecutor on this case. If anyone should’ve seen this coming, it was me. But I had been so caught up in the motions, the paperwork, the need to do my job.

I hadn’t seen this. Hadn’t realized how far this was going.

"A'ishah?"

I forced my voice to stay even. "Thanks for telling me."

Jana hesitated. "Are you okay?"

I almost laughed. Okay? I was the one standing on the other side of the courtroom, fighting for a case that was tearing Maxine’s life apart. That had already torn us apart. And now she was being thrown into the worst possible place, and I… I was part of the reason why.

"I’m fine." I said, and ended the call before I could hear the doubt in her voice.

I closed my eyes, pressing my fingers to my temple. I needed to think. To process. To—

"A'ishah?"

I turned to see Rebecca standing a few feet away, her arms crossed. She wasn’t smiling.

"You’ve been out here for a while." Her voice was casual, but her eyes weren’t.

I forced a breath, pushing everything down. "It’s nothing. Just work."

Rebecca didn’t move. "You sure?"

No.

But I nodded.

She studied me for another moment, then tilted her head toward the restaurant. "Come back inside. You look like you need to eat."

I swallowed, nodding numbly as I followed her back to the table.

I barely noticed the warmth of the restaurant as I stepped back inside. My thoughts were a tangled mess, my pulse still unsteady from the call.

Maxine was in city jail.

The words wouldn’t stop echoing in my head.

Rebecca had gone ahead, and I took a moment to breathe, to steady myself before facing everyone again. I had just convinced her I was fine. The last thing I needed was for someone else to see through the cracks.

But as I turned the corner, I nearly collided with someone.

I stepped back, murmuring a quick apology until I looked up and froze.

Maxine’s mother and her sister.

Mrs. De Luna’s sharp, elegant features twisted in shock the moment she recognized me. Beside her, Nicole stiffened, her expression guarded.

I wasn’t prepared for this.

"A'ishah.” Mrs. De Luna said, her voice smooth but edged with something cold. "What a surprise.”

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. I could see it in her eyes. The restraint, the quiet anger buried beneath polished civility.

Maxine's sister was staring at me too, but hers was different. Less hostility, more… disappointment?

The silence stretched for a beat too long.

Mrs. De Luna tilted her chin, her gaze scrutinizing. "I assume you’ve heard the news."

It wasn’t a question.

I swallowed, my voice quieter than I intended. "I have.”

Her lips pressed together. "Then I assume you also know how dire the situation is."

I didn’t answer. What could I say? That I was just as shaken? That I hadn’t wanted this? That I wasn’t the one who signed off on the transfer?

It wouldn’t change anything.

Maxine's sister exhaled sharply, crossing her arms. "Do you even care, A'ishah?"

I clenched my fists, jaw tightening. "Of course, I care.”

"Then do something about it.” She shot back. Her voice was low, but the frustration bled through. "You’re the prosecutor. You have power in this case, don’t you?"

I stiffened. "It’s not that simple."

"Right." She scoffed, shaking her head. "Not that simple."

Mrs. De Luna’s eyes never left me. "I truly believed you loved my daughter, A'ishah." Her voice was quiet, measured. But somehow, that made it worse.

I swallowed past the lump in my throat. "I did."

I still do.

But the words stayed trapped inside me.

Mrs. De Luna studied me for another long moment before exhaling, as if she had already expected my silence.

"I hope this was worth it.” She said, and then she walked past me without another word.

Maxine's sister lingered a second longer. For a moment, I thought she might say something else, but then she just shook her head and followed her mother.

I stood there, unable to move, unable to breathe.

It wasn’t until Rebecca called my name again, her voice laced with concern, that I forced my feet forward.

But as I sat down, the food on my plate now completely unappetizing, I knew one thing for certain.

The weight in my chest wasn’t going away.

And no matter how much I told myself I had done the right thing, the weight in my chest said otherwise.

The night stretched on, but sleep never came. The weight of Maxine’s transfer, the cold accusation in her mother’s eyes, and the quiet disappointment in her sister’s expression clung to me, refusing to let go.

I tried drowning myself in work the next day. Case files, depositions, legal motions, anything to keep my mind from drifting. I stayed buried in paperwork, reading through testimonies, double-checking reports, cross-referencing evidence. Every second was accounted for, every thought meticulously redirected away from her.

But no matter how much I tried to forget, my mind kept slipping back. To the look in Maxine’s eyes the last time we met. To the echo of her voice in the courtroom. To the suffocating guilt that gripped me every time I remembered why she was in that cell to begin with.

By the time the sun had set, I had barely eaten. The office was empty now, the air thick with exhaustion and the faint scent of stale coffee. I leaned back in my chair, rubbing my temples, forcing myself to stop caring.

Then the knock came. It was sharp. Urgent. Furious.

I barely had time to straighten before the door swung open, and Nicolas stormed in. His face was red, his breathing uneven, fists clenched at his sides.

“Ate A’ishah, what the hell is happening to Ate Maxine?”

I blinked, caught off guard. “What—”

“Did you know?” His voice cracked, but it was filled with rage. “Did you know that the officers forced her to change in front of them? That they’ve been treating her like shit inside that hellhole?”

My blood turned to ice.

“What?!” I whispered, my pulse hammering in my ears.

“She’s not just in jail. She’s being humiliated. She's powerless, and they’re making fun of her.” His voice was shaking. “Do you even care?”

My stomach twisted violently. My hands felt numb, but my nails dug into the desk as I forced myself to stay still. “How do you know this?”

“Just…” He paused. “Someone just told me. That doesn't matter.” He exhaled sharply, pacing. “It’s bad, Ate A’ishah. The guards. Those bastards think they can get away with it because she’s high profile. They stripped her dignity away like she was nothing. Like she wasn’t Colonel Maxine Blair fucking De Luna.”

The bile rose in my throat. My breathing was shallow, my chest tight, the weight in my ribs now unbearable.

Maxine.

My Maxine.

I stood so fast my chair scraped against the floor. “Why the hell wasn’t this reported?”

Nicolas let out a bitter laugh. “Reported? To whom? The same system that threw her in there? The same system you’re upholding?”

I flinched.

His words cut deep, a knife right where my guilt festered.

I had fought so hard to convince myself that I was doing the right thing. That I was just upholding the law. But this… this wasn’t justice. This wasn’t what I signed up for.

And Maxine was suffering for it.

“Ate A’ishah.” Nicolas’s voice was quieter now, but no less demanding. “Tell me you’re going to do something about this.”

I clenched my fists. My mind was a battlefield, torn between my duty to the law and the woman I had spent the past weeks trying to forget.

Justice and love. Two things that were never supposed to be at odds. And yet, here I was, drowning in the impossible choice between the two.

“I—I need time.” I whispered, my voice hoarse.

Nicolas exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “She doesn’t have time.”

He turned on his heel, storming out, leaving me alone in the suffocating silence.

And for the first time in a long time, I didn’t know what to do.

The moment Nicolas slammed the door behind him, the silence in my office became deafening.

I pressed my hands against the desk, my nails digging into the wood as my mind reeled. My breath came in short, sharp bursts, my chest tight with the weight of his words.

I squeezed my eyes shut, but that only made it worse. Because now, in the darkness behind my eyelids, I could see Maxine. I could see the way her jaw clenched when she was cornered, the defiance in her eyes even when she was bleeding. But now? Now they were stripping her of everything.

My Maxine.

I shook my head, my throat burning. No, she wasn’t mine. Not anymore.

I told myself that I had let her go. That the moment I took on this case, I had severed the last ties that bound us. That I had chosen justice, the law, over the mess of my emotions. But was this justice?

Was this what I had spent years fighting for? Had I truly become so blinded by my duty that I had allowed myself to ignore what was right in front of me?

The law was supposed to protect people. Even the accused. Even those who had once held power. Even those who had broken my heart.

My hands trembled as I sat back down, my head in my hands. If I did something now, it would put my career on the line. People would say I was compromised, that I was letting my personal ties cloud my judgment. That I was weak.

But if I did nothing…

No. That wasn’t an option.

I grabbed my phone and dialed a number before I could talk myself out of it. The line rang twice before a male voice answered.

“Attorney Alvarez?”

“Detective Santos.” I said, my voice steadier than I felt. “I need to see Colonel De Luna. Now.”

A beat of silence. Then, “Attorney, it’s late—”

“I don’t care.” My grip on the phone tightened. “I’m invoking my right as the lead prosecutor on this case. I want access to the accused. If there’s an issue, tell whoever is in charge that I’ll take it up with the Chief.”

Another pause. Then, a resigned sigh. “Yes, attorney. I’ll make the arrangements.”

I hung up, my heart pounding against my ribs.

I didn’t know what I was going to say to Maxine. I didn’t know if she would even look at me, much less listen. But I did know one thing:

I wasn’t going to let them break her.

Not like this.

Not while I was still standing.

The drive to the detention facility was suffocating. Streetlights blurred past the car window, and the weight in my chest only grew heavier with every passing second. I had been to countless prisons before, interviewed more criminals than I cared to remember, but this was different.

Because the woman behind those bars wasn’t just another accused criminal.

She was Maxine.

By the time I arrived, the guards were already waiting. They stiffened when they saw me, exchanging nervous glances. Good. They should be worried.

“Take me to her.” I ordered, my tone leaving no room for argument.

They led me down a dimly lit corridor, past rows of cells that smelled of sweat and rust. My stomach twisted with every step, my pulse hammering in my ears. Then, finally, we stopped.

The guard unlocked the door, and I stepped inside. It took seconds for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. When they did, my breath caught in my throat.

Maxine was there. But she wasn’t alone.

A woman, about our age, was sprawled on top of her, their bodies pressed together in a way that made my stomach lurch. Maxine's eyes were wide with shock, frozen beneath the weight of the other woman. Neither of them had noticed us yet.

The guard clanged his baton against the bars, the sharp sound slicing through the silence.

Maxine’s head snapped up. So did the other woman’s.

And then Maxine saw me.

For a moment, neither of us moved. I couldn’t. I felt like the ground had been ripped from beneath me, like I was drowning in a sea of emotions I had no right to feel.

Jealousy. Hurt. Anger. Longing.

Maxine scrambled to sit up, pushing the woman off her with a muttered curse. But the image had already burned itself into my mind. The sting of it, the twist of something ugly and painful deep in my chest, was impossible to ignore.

I clenched my fists at my sides, forcing my expression into something neutral. Professional. Detached.

But inside, I was anything but.

“A’ishah.” Maxine breathed, her voice rough, as if she hadn’t spoken in hours.

I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. My jaw was clenched so tightly it ached. Every rational part of me screamed to stay professional, to not let this get to me. But the sight of another woman pressed against Maxine had ignited something I wasn’t prepared for.

Maxine’s POV

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Panic clawed up my throat as I stared at A’ishah, her expression carefully blank, but her eyes… Gosh! Her eyes burned with something sharp enough to cut me in half.

I could already imagine what she was thinking. The way I was pinned under Lovely, the way our bodies were tangled together, it looked bad. Really bad.

I shoved Lovely off me, nearly sending her tumbling to the floor. “Get off me.” I hissed under my breath, my pulse pounding in my ears.

Lovely, completely unbothered, just laughed as she sat up, rubbing her elbow. “Damn, Colonel, you could at least say please.” She shot a lazy grin at A’ishah. “Is this the wifey you were talking about?”

I wanted to strangle her.

The air between me and A’ishah was suffocating. She was standing stiff, her hands curled into fists, her jaw clenched so tight I swore I heard it creak. And she wasn’t saying a damn word.

“A’ishah, it’s not what it looks like.” I blurted, scrambling to get up. I was still holding the small, slightly crumpled picture in my hand, the one of her that I’d been staring at just minutes before this disaster unfolded.

She didn’t say anything. Didn’t move.

Lovely, still completely oblivious to the very dangerous tension in the room, stretched her arms and leaned back against the wall.

“Relax, miss. I was just trying to see what my dear cellmate’s wife looked like.” She turned to me with an impish grin. “Didn’t know you were this possessive about a damn picture.”

I snapped my head toward her. “Do you ever shut up?”

A’ishah’s gaze flickered to my hand, and I realized that I was gripping the picture like my life depended on it. I loosened my fingers, smoothing it out slightly, but I didn’t put it away. I couldn’t.

Because, no matter how much it hurt to see her now furious, guarded, standing in front of me like a prosecutor and not the woman I used to wake up next to—I couldn’t let go of the only piece of her I had left.

A’ishah inhaled sharply. “I don’t have time for games, Maxine.” Her voice was low, controlled, but I knew her. She was barely holding it together.

Neither was I.

“I wasn’t playing.” I said, my voice hoarse. “Lovely was messing around, trying to grab the picture, and we tripped over her bed. That’s it.”

A’ishah said nothing for a long moment. Then, slowly, she exhaled through her nose. “And you expect me to believe that?”

A bitter laugh bubbled up in my throat. “I don’t expect anything from you anymore.” The words came out harsher than I intended, but I didn’t take them back.

Because it was true, wasn’t it? She had made her choice. She had left. And now, she was here, looking at me like I was the one who had betrayed her.

Lovely clicked her tongue. “Damn, the tension in here is suffocating.” She stood up and stretched, grinning at me. “I’ll give you two some privacy.”

I shot her a glare. “You should’ve done that five minutes ago.”

She winked before sauntering toward the other side of the cell where Ate Carmen is already sleeping peacefully. “Don’t do anything too loud, Colonel.”

I swore under my breath.

A’ishah’s gaze hadn’t left me, not for a second. She was studying me, analyzing, like she always did when she was trying to decide whether to trust me.

But trust wasn’t something we had anymore, was it?

I swallowed hard. “Why are you here, A’ishah?”

Her lips parted, like she wanted to say something important but then, just as quickly, she closed her mouth.

Then, finally, she spoke.

“I… uhmm…” She cleared her throat, hesitating whether to tell me or not.

“You what?” I tilted my head, studying her face, her beautiful face that I'd still die to see.

“Errr… uhm.”

“Hmmm?” I hummed, taking a step closer to her.

I saw how she froze. Her jaw clenched as she gulped, trying to calm herself down.

She was running.

Not physically. A’ishah wasn’t a coward like that. But emotionally? She was bolting out of here like I was the devil whispering sins into her ear.

And maybe I was.

Because, damn, I wanted to.

I wanted to press her against the cold bars of this damn cell, tilt her chin up, and remind her exactly who we were to each other. To force her to admit that she still felt it. That fire, that need, that fucking undeniable pull that neither of us could escape.

But she wouldn’t.

Instead, she stood there, looking at me like she was barely holding herself together. Her shoulders were tense, her fists clenched, her breath uneven despite how much she tried to control it.

She was losing control.

Because of me.

A slow smirk tugged at my lips. “Cat got your tongue, babi?”

I didn’t miss the way she inhaled sharply, her jaw tightening at the name.

She still liked it.

No matter how much she wanted to pretend otherwise, it still got to her.

“Don’t call me that.” She said, her voice strained.

“Why not?” I murmured, taking another step forward. She didn’t move away, and that alone told me everything I needed to know. “It’s not like we ever stopped belonging to each other.”

That got her.

I saw it in the way her pupils dilated, the way her fingers twitched like she wanted to reach for me.

But then she forced herself to straighten, pushing down whatever war was raging inside her. “We did stop, Maxine.” She said, her voice sharp. “You just don’t want to accept it.”

I scoffed. “Did we really?”

She didn’t answer.

So I held up the small, worn picture in my hand. The one of her that I hadn’t let go of.

“If we did.” I whispered, “then tell me why I still can’t let go.”

Her eyes darkened, flickering to the picture for just a second before she looked away. Like if she stared too long, she’d crack.

And she would.

I could feel it in the way she was unraveling, piece by piece, just like I was.

A’ishah clenched her jaw. “I’m here for work.” She muttered, her voice tight. “Your case. That’s it.”

I huffed a laugh, low and mocking. “Right. Work.”

She bristled. “Yeah. Because I actually have a life outside of—”

“Me?” I cut in, voice dropping to a murmur.

She froze.

And I knew then. I fucking knew. That no matter how much she lied to herself, she was still mine.

I stepped closer, watching as her breath hitched, as her gaze flickered to my lips before she forced herself to look away.

She wanted me.

She hated it.

I loved it.

My fingers brushed against hers, just barely, but it was enough. Enough to make her whole body go rigid, enough to make heat coil between us, thick and suffocating.

“I can feel it, A’ishah.” I whispered, letting my voice dip into something soft, dangerous. “I know you feel it too.”

She swallowed hard, her throat working.

For a second, I thought she might give in. That she might close the distance between us like she used to, press herself against me and let me take whatever I wanted.

But then… She pulled away. Fast.

Like if she stayed any longer, she’d lose whatever fragile control she had left.

“You should get some rest.” She said stiffly, voice emotionless. “We’ll talk in the morning.”

Then she turned, walked toward the door, and left me standing there.

Alone.

But I didn’t miss the way she hesitated. I didn’t miss the way her hands shook.

And I sure as hell didn’t miss the way her breath stuttered like she was still drowning in me, even as she tried to escape.

~~~

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