Rebirth Into My Second Chance

Waiting outside the police station for Max to emerge, I couldn't help but notice that acrid scent of sulfuric acid on him as he approached, triggering my gag reflex once again. He sniffed himself with a frown of displeasure.

Ronald leaned in for a sniff, too. "Still smells after three washes? I can't catch a whiff. Ms. Floyd, what kind of super nose do you have?"

For some reason, my senses were on high alert today. Beads of sweat formed on my forehead, the nauseating smell etched into my very being, which was unforgettable and revolting.

"I'll wash up again," Max decided, leaving, but I started vomiting again by the side.

"It's okay. I've probably just got a bit of a stomach bug," I said.

Feeling the physical toll and the mental strain from witnessing Gabrielle's demise, Claude's indifference, and the sight of a pregnant woman's body drenched in sulfuric acid, I knew I was pushed to my breaking point. Ronald patted my back gently. "Ms. Floyd, maybe you should see a therapist. In my years of police work, it seems the trauma from when Daniel hurt you has left a deep impact."

I stopped retching to look at him. Even Ronald thought I needed professional help.

took hold of my wrist. "She's exhausted today. A bit of rest, and she'll be fine," he assured Ronald before escorting me to my car. "I'll

too dizzy to protest. Not long after the car started, I drifted off

sitting in my living room,

didn't notice

said, "You're awake? Richard called and wants to take you out

left, making me frown

suddenly turned back. "Don't drink with

escaped me. Max stayed

Otherwise, who knows might indulge." I teased him, stepping closer and deliberately brushing against him. It was getting fun to

so stern and detached. But in the privacy of my apartment, there seemed to be a different dynamic between us, though he never

with a warning look in his eyes. "Get drunk again, and it won't be as simple