Not the phones Annie tracked without meaning to.
This.
The ease.
The way she had started fitting into my day.
She had spent one night in my arms, helped run a mermaid party, and bought me a bracelet from a child with stronger financial principles than either of us.
I could already imagine tomorrow.
That was the problem with temporary things.
Sometimes they started feeling permanent before anyone had agreed to the terms.
Annie turned toward me.
“You’re doing the specific-nothing face.”
“I don’t have one.”
“You do.”
“That sounds like something I’d say.”
“I’m learning from the best.”
I looked at our wrists resting side by side on the seawall.
“One extra day.”
Her smile softened.
“One extra day.”
“And after that?”
“I don’t know.”
The honest answer was better than a reassuring lie.
I appreciated it.
I did not enjoy it.
Annie reached for my hand.
“I wish I had a better answer.”
“I know.”
“I’m not trying to make this complicated.”
“You’re doing a poor job.”
“I’m talented.”
“That’s becoming clear.”
