Page 57 of Choosing Us

“Yeah, I am. The pilot did his best, but we hit some storms somewhere over Oklahoma City.” She chuckles before adding, “And I may or may not have held the hand of my seat mate that was a very sweet elderly man who was not a fan of flying.”

“Oh, do I need to be worried?”

She laughs and I feel my shoulders lower.

She’s okay.

“I think you are safe, Ryan. Once he learned I was a doctor, we had an overwhelming personal conversation about his medical history, including but not limited to him showing me a spot on his foot—yes, his foot, on an airplane—that his doctor said was an age spot, but Wallace was convinced it was cancerous.”

I chuckle at the image. “Did you tell ol’ Wally that you aren’t a dermatologist or an oncologist?”

“Oh, trust me, I tried. But honestly, then it got worse when he heard FBI because he is convinced his neighbor’s grandson is running an internet scam.”

“Maybe he is.”

“It’s entirely possible, but I gave him the number for his local field office in Phoenix to file a report.” She sighs.

She sounds tired. We haven’t seen each other in thirty-six hours, and maybe she’s struggling to sleep, just like how I tossed and turned all night.

“I see my contact, though, so I should let you go. Is everything going well there?”

I grin at the idea of her learning about Tinsley Sinclair being here, but I know this is not the time. She’s getting into the zone, and she can rant and rave at me for keeping this from her later.

“Everything is great, and even Savannah is having a good time, which means everything is going incredibly well.”

“Good. They deserve it. I can text you later whenever I get to my hotel, but I’m not sure what time it will be, and with the time difference⁠—”

“Lo? Just text me when you can, okay?” I interrupt.

“Okay,” she softly replies.

“Please be safe, and I’ll talk to you soon, alright? Now, go be the badass I know you are.”

She laughs at that. “I’ll do my best.” Which means she’ll be phenomenal. “I’ll speak with you later, Ryan. Tell everyone hello for me.”

I hum to acknowledge her request. “Looking forward to it, Lo.”

And counting down the minutes until she’s back in my arms again.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

“I’m sorry I wasn’t able to make it. I was so excited to actually see you in person, too,” I tell Aisha as I pull up to Ryan’s house. Since Savannah and Theo’s wedding, we’ve been like two ships in the night with our schedules, and I’ve been looking forward to this weekend for the last two weeks.

I’ve missed him more than I expected, and what’s even more surprising is that I know he feels the same way. I don’t know if I’m used to missing someone, and not only that, but to be missed by them as well.

“The usual suspects were all there, although I think you would have gotten a headache from some of the egos on a few of the panels.” Aisha goes on to tell me who was all there. One evening, she went to dinner with some of our colleagues. Aisha—an expert in trauma-related memory reliability—was joined by escalation trajectory modeling expert Dr. Quentin Truett, competency threshold evaluation expert Dr. James Elliot, and digital behavioral expert Dr. Graham Tremblay. The group was almost everyone that helped me create the Case Prioritization Matrix, except for Dr. Talia Rosenburg who wasn’t able to attend this year.

"And you know how Quentin and James are when they're together, especially when we're all sharing a few bottles of wine at the table," Aisha continues, setting an all too familiar scene.

I laugh, because those two are always debating. It’s never competitive—it’s basically the foundation of their friendship, almost sport-like for them. "What was the topic of debate this time?"

“You would’ve enjoyed this one. They were arguing about the role of intent in escalation.”

"Oooo, sounds like a party to me."

She laughs. "This is why we're friends."

“So, who won this time?” And why do I feel like one—or both of them—keeps literal score of their debates?