“You want to tell me if Vanessa still thinks you’re together?”
“No.”
One word. Tired. Steady.
Roman let the silence sit.
Then he said, “Okay.”
Jace gave a short laugh. “That’s it?”
“What were you hoping for? Confetti? A commemorative puck? You ended a relationship. It sucks.”
“It does.”
“Did you do it decently?”
Jace’s voice dropped. “Not as decently as I should’ve done it two months ago.”
“That wasn’t what I asked.”
There was a pause long enough for the hallway to feel smaller.
“I told her there was someone else,” Jace said.
My fingers folded around the practice plan until the paper bent.
Roman answered after a beat. “And is there?”
Jace didn’t rush. That mattered more than if he had.
“Yeah,” he said.
The single word hit me hard enough that I had to look down at the floor.
Not because I doubted him.
Because hearing him say it to Roman made it less like something built out of locked doors and night air. It sounded real. Dangerous, but real.
Roman said, “Do I know them?”
Silence.
Then Jace, quieter and careful, “I’m not ready.”
Roman must have seen something in him, because his tone changed. Less dry. More human.
“All right.”
“You’re not going to push?”
“I’ve been known to evolve under pressure.”
“Since when?”
“Since my therapist started charging me when I bail.”
Jace laughed once.
