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I smiled.

Blair: Me too.

Three dots.

Nash: Even with all the trapdoor questions?

I laughed.

Blair: Especially because of the trapdoor questions.

Nash: Good.

I smiled harder and I tried not to ruin the moment. Liking Nash wasn’t disrespectful to Ravenna. Moving forward wasn’t the same thing as pretending the past hadn’t happened. Accountability wasn’t supposed to mean I could never enjoy anything again.

I didn’t fully believe that yet, but I wanted to.

8

Blair

BEFORE

I kept Caleb blocked for thirty-seven days. I know because I counted.

Day one was anger. Day two was embarrassment. By day seven, I was back to myself again. A month became something I could point to and say, See? I can stop whenever I want. Then on day thirty-seven, Caleb walked into my office.

I was standing over the conference table with three fabric books open in front of me when Janelle appeared in the doorway.

Her face told me before her mouth did.

“What is wrong?”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Your face did.”

“Okay, well…” She stepped aside. “Your face is about to have company.”

Caleb appeared behind her and my stomach dropped. Thirty-seven fucking days and apparently my body had learned nothing.

He looked different. He looked tired, his beard was fuller, he had dark circles beneath his eyes, and a duffel bag hung from one shoulder.

I looked at it, then him. “What are you doing here?”

Janelle disappeared so quickly I considered firing her. Caleb set a folder on my conference table.

“I moved out.”

Everything inside me went quiet. I stared at him. Then the folder. Then at him again.

“What?”

“Saturday.”

He pushed the folder toward me.

“What’s that?”