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“But I’m not going to sit here and say you don’t fit because it would make this conversation easier.”

I rub a spot on the counter with my thumb, then stop. I have wanted him to tell me he needs me for so long that I hadn’t considered what it would cost him to say it when other people could hear.

“If you came,” he says, “we’d have to work some things out.”

“We could.”

“I said work them out. Not have you decide they’re handled because we talked once.”

“Fair.”

“And don’t ask me to be excited tonight.”

“I’m not.”

He looks at me until he believes it. I wish we were in the same room. I could sit beside him, let the television play, give him something besides my face waiting for his answer.

Eventually he picks up the remote.

“You call Mom?”

“After I landed.”

“She told me to ask whether you liked it.”

“You already asked.”

“That was me. She needs her own answer.”

“Tell her I’ll call her tomorrow.”

“She’ll call you first.”

We both laugh, and I am grateful he has let us get there without pretending the rest is settled.

After we hang up, I call Cam and tell him to keep both conversations open. I also tell him I am willing to speak to San Antonio. Saying it aloud makes me stop walking through the apartment.

Cam asks two questions, gets the answers, and tells me what he will do next. He doesn’t congratulate me for making a decision I haven’t made.

Giselle’s reply is waiting when I finish.

Zel: Glad you’re home. How did it go?

I consider the easiest answer. Then I call her.

“Good meeting,” I say when she answers. “Harder day than I expected.”

“Tell me.”

I sit on the couch and do.

Chapter 12

Giselle

A few nights after Toronto, I push Jarrett’s arm off me in bed, then reach back for it when the air conditioning hits my damp skin.

“You just moved me,” he says, his voice thick with sleep.