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Hey. I was hoping I’d hear from you.

Good enough. Send it.

Anna

Sorry, I’ve been quiet.

Busy saving the world, I assume.

Anna

Mostly work stuff.

Same answer as before, still vague, but at least she’s texting. But why skip dance?

What are you up to now?

Anna

I’m at home. Pulled a muscle this week so I skipped pole.

My eyes dart back to the studio—that explains it. Oh my God, I’ve been freaking out over nothing. I don’t feel shame over much, but this one is getting me.

Anna

Wait, you didn’t go without me, did you? If I missed seeing you in heels, I’ll never forgive myself.

God, I’ve missed that sarcasm.

I can’t believe you would sexualize me like that. I attend purely for the athletic appreciation.

Anna

Liar.

Okay, fine. I’m not supposed to say anything, but Fern told me I was so naturally talented that it made the rest of the class uncomfortable. I’m actually teaching at a sister studio now.

She sends a laughing emoji. We continue messaging back and forth with the jokes until eventually our banter finds its rhythm again, allowing the knot in my chest to loosen. If something was seriously wrong, she wouldn’t be joking with me like this.

She sounds normal, like maybe she really just pulled a muscle. Maybe work is actually chaotic. And maybe those abandonment issues from my childhood aren’t as handled as I thought. No woman has ever managed to trip that wire before. Anna did without even trying . . . which means she got closer to me than anyone was supposed to.

My heart is pounding so hard it feels like the human resources manager can hear it through my webcam. Just say it, people ask for advances all the time. Except most people don’t have my history, and most people don’t work for a sober living nonprofit.

“Um,” I begin, “I wanted to ask about the possibility of a payroll advance?”

Jenna smiles, probably relieved I’m not bringing a complaint to her. She speaks in a professional, neutral tone. “Oh, sure. We can usually do that depending on the situation.”

I’m a former addict asking for money—the optics are phenomenal.

“It’s just temporary,” I add quickly. “My car needed a new transmission, so the unexpected expenses dipped into my rent money.”

More like unexpected extortion. I want to roll my eyes.

“How much are you thinking?”

I give her a number that will give me enough to pay my rent plus a little extra to get me started on my next payment. I’ve sold some things on the local marketplace website and have picked up some extra graphic design freelance gigs.

Can’t ask Rhys. Just the thought of asking him for money turns my stomach; that was the old Anna. Rhys and Micky have moved heaven and earth to help me get clean. Paid for me to go to one of the best rehab centers in the United States—twice. He believed me in the past while I cried and lied and promised things I didn’t keep. Micky even helped me detox when she was my brother’s neighbor, before they ever started dating. They deserve peace after what I put them through.