Her mouth tightens. “He didn’t.”
The apology is already in her eyes before she says it.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “I should have told you. It wasn’t my story, but it affected you—and I misjudged him.”
I lean back against the counter, folding my arms loosely. Not defensive. Just grounded.
I consider it.
Not the facts—I already have those.
The intention.
“You didn’t owe me that,” I say finally.
Jamie blinks. “Audra?—”
“No,” I say gently. “You weren’t keeping a secret for him. You were giving him a chance to do the right thing.”
She looks at me carefully now. “And if he had?”
“Then we wouldn’t be standing here having this conversation,” I say. “And I still would have found out eventually.”
Her shoulders drop slightly. Relief, maybe. Or permission.
“I’m not angry with you,” I add. “You tried to protect timing. He failed it.”
Jamie’s eyes go glossy for just a second before she blinks it back. “Thank you.”
Levi clears his throat loudly from the kitchen. “Okay, confession corner over? Because this pizza is not getting warmer.”
I smile. It surprises me how easily it comes.
“Come on in,” I say.
The apartment shifts as soon as they settle—Levi claiming the kitchen like he owns it, Jamie kicking off her shoes and dropping onto the couch.
Levi nudges the pizza box closer. “So where’s Shannon? I figured she’d be here with bells on.”
Jamie glances at me. “She didn’t text you?”
I shake my head. “No.”
Levi frowns. “Huh. She bailed on brunch last weekend too. Said she went a little hard Friday.”
Jamie’s mouth tightens—not judgmental. Just… attentive. “Again?”
I shrug lightly, like it doesn’t matter. “She was out last night. Said she wasn’t feeling human yet.”
Levi snorts. “Relatable.”
But Jamie doesn’t laugh.
She reaches for her beer and says, carefully, “Just… make sure she’s okay.”
“I will,” I say.
And I mean it.
