Her auburn hair was pinned loosely behind her head.
She wore navy scrubs beneath a gray cardigan and was stirring something in a large pot while speaking on her phone.
For one brief moment, Andrew simply watched her.
Twenty years.
They had met when he was thirty and she was twenty-eight.
She had been a young nurse then, bright, stubborn, endlessly energetic.
He remembered their first apartment.
The cheap mattress.
The folding table they used for dinner.
The night their washing machine flooded the kitchen and Lauren laughed so hard she had to sit on the counter while Andrew tried to stop the water.
They had not begun with money.
Everything had been built together.
That thought made what came later almost impossible to understand.
Andrew opened the door.
Lauren looked up.
“There’s our hero.”
He frowned.
“What?”
“Emily texted me.”
Of course.
The younger inspector had apparently told someone at the firm what happened. The story had reached Emily through a friend before Andrew could say anything himself.
Lauren crossed the kitchen and kissed him.
“You nearly got crushed and you didn’t call me?”
“It sounds worse than it was.”
“Andrew.”
“I’m fine.”
She touched the cut near his temple.
“That is not what fine looks like.”
He smiled.
“Occupational decoration.”
She did not laugh.
“Sit down.”
He sat.
Lauren checked the wound even though the paramedics already had.
That was Lauren.
Or at least the Lauren he believed he knew.
Clinical when frightened.
Competent.
Her hands were steady.
“You should have gone to the emergency department.”
“I spend enough time around hospitals through you.”
“That is not how medicine works.”
“I know.”
She gave him a look.
Dinner was stew, bread, and a salad neither of them particularly wanted.
Halfway through the meal, Andrew told her everything.
The crack.
The failed bracing.
The young inspector.
The concrete block.
Lauren stopped eating.
“How close?”
“Close enough.”
“How close, Andrew?”
He looked at her.
“Maybe three feet.”
Lauren put down her spoon.
“My God.”
“Yeah.”
For several seconds, she stared at him.
Andrew expected her to reach across the table.
Instead, she looked away.
He noticed it, but only faintly.
At the time he interpreted it as fear.
“It makes you think,” he said.
“About what?”
“Everything we keep waiting to do.”
Lauren looked back.
Andrew smiled.
“Costa Rica.”
She blinked.
“What?”
“Let’s go.”
“Andrew.”
“I’m serious.”
“When?”
“Winter. January maybe. Ten days.”
Lauren’s expression shifted.
Just for a second.
Something hardened.
Then disappeared.
“We can’t afford Costa Rica right now.”
Andrew almost laughed.
“We absolutely can.”
“That isn’t the point.”
“What is?”
“Emily is settling into the new job. Chloe still has tuition. The house needs work.”
“Emily supports herself.”
“She’s still getting started.”
“And Chloe has one year left.”
Lauren’s voice sharpened.
“Exactly.”
“We have money saved.”