I'm a detective.

I stood helpless before her. How could she be asking this of me? If I told her I wanted her, then I would be powerless to help her. I would be **** to sit back and watch as she struggled to find the life that she had lost. If I told her I would help her, then I was **** to be with her, to watch her, to feel her presence, but to never reach out and touch her. Either way was a **** that I knew I wouldn’t be able to stand.

I said, “Victoria please, don’t make me choose. I can be with you and help you at the same time.”

All of the sudden a very sad and tired look fell over her face. “I know Whisper. I know. But, I don’t think I can let you. It’s just too much…”

I tried to reach out and touch her face, tried to bring some joy back into her. She just took a step back. My hand fell by my side. I knew what I was going to say. I’m a cop. whether I have the badge or not is immaterial. I had to help her. My own feelings and safety be damned. I had to help her.

“All right.” I said. “I’m a detective. I’ll help you sort out your life and we’ll pretend that this whole thing never happened.”

She gave me a sad smile, “Thank you Whisper.”

We walked in silence back to her apartment. Just outside the doors she said, “You’re still welcome to stay if you want.”

My mind reeled. Had she changed her mind on the walk over? This wasn’t some sort of signal, was it? A million reasons why she would offer flew through my brain. She was just being polite. She was thanking me for taking the case. It was late and she didn’t want me to try to go back into my neighborhood.

I tried to look into her eyes for an answer but all I could see was her opal orbs waiting for my response.