Staring at the firehouse, Haustin stood on the sidewalk, unable to move, as if invisible roots had grown through the cracks in the concrete and held him in place. Apprehension and embarrassment formed a complex ball in his gut, a reminder of his heinous actions. Any buoyancy he felt waking up next to Yael faded with each throb of his swollen jaw, courtesy of Abel's ham-sized fists. It'd only been a day since he stumbled into this building, but it seemed like a year. This morning, he felt every bit his age. Exhaustion pressed on his shoulders, making him a hundred pounds heavier, and he was not looking forward to facing the crew. Thank God Yael hadn't found any six a.m. meetings nearby to take him to. He wasn't sure he wanted to deal with that as well as the shit-show he was about to walk into, and the ass-kissing required.

Sucking in a bracing breath, Haustin walked through the open bay door and kept his head down. After tossing his duffel in his locker, he ambled into the kitchen, where Abel and Alex were bent over steaming mugs of coffee and joined them at the table.

"Nice shiner," Abel quipped.

"Worse than it looks," Haustin answered. "Only hurts when I move or breathe."

"Good."

Haustin glanced between his two friends, finding no easy forgiveness there, and his shoulders slumped. "Yeah, I'm sorry about ... everything."

"Don't be. You barely scratched me."

"Are you okay?" Alex asked.

"No. Far from it, although I do believe there is a light at the end of the tunnel. It's a long tunnel, but it's there."

"That was pitiful, Haustin."

Haustin nodded at Abel's statement, unable to think of anything else to say but, "Agreed."

"Wait. What in God's name is in your hands?" Abel demanded.

Haustin lifted the clear to-go cup from the Starbucks up the block. "This is an iced chai tea, gentlemen. Yael bought it for me this morning, says it's a healthier alternative to coffee. Do you know how much shit is in that cup of yours? And we drink gallons of it a day," he repeated what Yael told him earlier, neglecting to mention how she suggested he avoid any kind of stimulant such as caffeine, just until his system regulated.

They burst out laughing, and Haustin shot them a glare. Alex recovered first.

"When did you turn into an eighty-year-old woman?"

"That's pretty fancy stuff, cupcake," Abel added.

"What can I say? It tastes great and is better for me." He didn't see the point of adding the cinnamon only made him thirstier or how the feeling healthy part was probably wishful thinking. Apparently, Haustin the Downer was not all the way gone. He concentrated on a positive note. "Yael is a good influence on me."

"You need one, for sure." Abel took a long gulp of his coffee, and Haustin had a sudden craving for the life-giving beverage. "Hell, if I were you, I'd quit the force and be a kept man. Putter around her penthouse all day, sipping your tea with a pinkie in the air."

"Jealous?" Haustin fired back. "The place you live in is a step up from a crack shack and around the corner from cardboard boxville."

"I know, but the aroma is what truly makes it home."

"Aroma?" Alex teased. "You mean God-awful stench."

Abel merely took another drink and changed the subject. "Are we going to talk about it?"

"Who's an eighty-year-old woman now?" Haustin asked, knowing exactly where Abel was going with this.

"Don't play dumb."

"Talk to us, Haus," Alex prodded.

"It was the kid." Haustin gripped his cup so hard his fingers dented the plastic. "I couldn't bounce back from hearing him suffer, and everything spiraled out of control."

"Spiraled is putting it mildly," Abel said.

"After a heavy bout of drinking and pills, I went to Yael."

"Shit," Alex whispered.

"Yeah. It wasn't pretty. I said some unforgivable things to her. Then, I had the bright idea to come to work."

"We all know how that turned out."

Haustin rubbed his tender jaw. "I'll repay the favor one day."

"Something else happened, didn't it?" The question came from Alex, who was watching him closely.

"Short story, I had a revelation." He wasn't quite ready to spill it all. Eventually, just not yet. "Afterwards, I felt lighter."

"Which might have had to do with the copious amounts of alcohol and no food." Haustin cut Abel a glare. There were times his humor came at the wrong moment. Abel looked chagrined and said, "Sorry. It's a disease."

Haustin sighed. "I went to Lindsey's."

"How was that?" Abel's eyebrows shot up.

Lindsey's face materialized before Haustin, soft and radiant, much as it had been during their moment in the hallway the night before, outside the kids' rooms. His chest grew tight, and he swallowed thickly, hoping to dispel the warmth from spreading.

"It went okay."

Alex must have noticed something in his tone. "Just okay?"

"We talked. We turned a corner." He paused. "Into what, I have no idea."

"A second chance?"

Abel's question surprised Haustin, and he shook his head. "I'm with Yael. It's rocky right now, but we're together."

"What if there was no Yael?" his friend pressed.

"There is."

"You wouldn't want to take a stab at putting your family back together?" It was Alex's turn.

"No. Yes. I don't know. The fact of the matter is I care for Yael. I can't play stupid 'what-if' games." Even if he did play them in the secrecy of his mind. "I don't think I would have gotten to where I am now without Yael forcing me to face the past and my present. I love Lindsey, I always will, but I caused too much damage. From now on, I'm looking forward, not back, and Yael is forward."

"Deep," Abel drawled, snapping the heavy moment as usual.

"Chill. This is an important moment for Haus. He's finding his soul and getting in touch with his feelings," Alex said sarcastically.

"My bad. The real question is whether or not the lovely Yael can handle your PMS." Abel's smirk stretched his mustache wide.

"Oh, I have PMS? I'm not the one who gets misty-eyed watching American Idol," Haustin fired back.

"Hey, the kid had a story that tugged at the heartstrings," Abel stressed his point by flourishing his mug. "Of course, you'd have to have a heart to understand."

Alex laughed. "You two sound like an old married couple."

"Haustin couldn't handle my needs."

"I just threw up a little," Haustin groaned.

"Now you know how I feel listening to you getting all heavy and mushy."

Haustin fixed them with a hard stare, but it didn't work. They continued to grin at him like lunatics. He loved these bastards. No matter how bad he got, these two stuck by him, and he was still trying to figure why. Their nasty comments or manly insults were lifesavers, often the buoys to his sinking moods.

To direct the conversation away from himself, Haustin gave Alex a mocking smile. "Yuck it up, Alex. Rumor has it you're gonna be moving in with your girl soon. We're in the same relationship boat, so don't tease me about feelings."

"Wrong. Right now, yours is a relation-shit," Abel tossed out.

Alex took issue with Haustin's statement. "Hey, I'm a hell of a lot more mature than you, Mr. Hard and Cold as Steel, so no, we are not in the same hemisphere. Plus, I've always had feelings, unlike you, and the feelings I do have don't involve words like 'anger' or 'ignorance'."

"The only feelings you have are in your dick," Haustin said, rewarded by a cackle from Abel. "You used to get laid more than any firefighter I've ever seen. You telling me Wendy is different?"

"Hell, yeah, she is." He flashed white teeth, unable to keep a smile off his face. "And you're not innocent in the one-night stand category yourself. All it takes is a good woman to change everything. You had it with Lindsey and lost it. Don't do the same with Yael."

"I sure as hell don't want to blow it," he muttered, inwardly wincing at everything he destroyed with Lindsey.

"Piece of advice." Abel leaned in close. "Lay off the pills and booze. Bit of a turn-off."

"No shit." He sipped at his tea, hating how it shook at the prospect of what he was about to say next. "Flushed the pills this morning."

"Good for you, man," Alex said with a sincere tone.

"All your stashes?" Abel asked.

"Not the one here. I, uh, may need someone to watch in case I wuss out."

"A babysitter?"

"A friend," Haustin practically growled at Abel.

"Macauley! My office. Now!"

Captain Welch's loud shout boomed through the kitchen as he stepped inside, killing the mood, and Haustin hung his head. Time to listen to the old man rant for a while and accept whatever punishment he dreamed up—as long as it wasn't a suspension. It might not hurt to kiss some ass or volunteer for extra shifts. He picked up his tea, flipped off his friends, and trudged off to face the music. Nerves caused his hands to shake, rattling the ice in his cup, and his tongue felt like sandpaper.

His thoughts turned to Yael. Her press conference started in a couple hours, and he hoped it went well. Maybe they'd celebrate tonight, dinner at a nice restaurant, followed by a walk in the park, fool around in the cool grass. He grinned at the image of Yael with grass in her hair and, for the first time in ages, looked forward to going home to a beautiful woman.