Page 69 of Split Decision

She's quiet for a moment.

"I know you do," she says. "That's the part that worries me most. I don’t need you to protect me from this.”

“That’s not what I’m doing.” The words spill out of my mouth before I can stop them.

“Then what are you doing?” I hear the distance in her tone. The uncertainty. The distrust is creeping in.

“Making sure I don’t take you down with me.”

“If we’re not in it together, we’re not in it at all, Luke.”

The call ends.

I sit on the edge of the hotel bed in the small room Andi paid for so we'd have privacy when we needed it, and I look at the phone in my hand.

I thought I was standing next to her.

But I wasn’t.

I was standing in front of her.

I can see the difference now. I couldn't see it before, or I could see it, and I chose the outcome anyway, and I don't know which of those is worse.

The fight is three weeks away.

I go back to the gym in the morning.

ANDI

The bus is somewhere in Oklahoma when Brandon delivers the news about the sixty-day arrangement.

Not Luke. Brandon.

I'm sitting in the galley with a cold cup of tea, enjoying the late-night calm of the bus after a show. Cami is sleeping,and Travis is in the back, working on something—I can faintly hear a guitar through the door. Outside, the highway stretches out in the flat, dark expanse typical of the Southwest, with no variation, just endless distance.

He picks up on the third ring.

"Andi." Brandon's voice has the texture it gets when he's delivering something he doesn't want to deliver. I've heard it before. I know what it precedes.

"Tell me," I say.

He does. He tells me about the Commission's preliminary findings, the conditions, and the sixty days. He tells me Luke made the call before he knew Brandon was going to tell me. He tells me it's already done.

I listen without interrupting, the way I do when I'm processing rather than reacting.

When he finishes, I ask, "When did he make the arrangement?"

"Three days ago."

Three days. I've talked to Luke twice in three days. Brief calls, moving windows, the usual. He knew both times and said nothing.

"Thank you for telling me," I say.

"Andi—"

"Thank you, Brandon." I keep my voice level. "I mean it."

I hang up and sit with the phone in my lap.