Page 546 of End Game

It’s not disgust or rejection.

It’s fear dressed up as tradition.

“You worry I'm getting hurt.”

“Yes.”

“I'm not.”

“How can you know that?”

A while ago, that question would have pissed me off.

Now I understand what she's asking.

Not whether Cami is cruel.

Whether I'm lying to myself.

“Honestly? I didn't know at first.”

Mom doesn't say anything.

So I keep going.

“Logically? I understood it before my emotions did. I knew nobody was taking anything from me. I knew Cami loving someone else didn't mean she loved me less. I knew Micah or Dex or Ronan being with her wasn't automatically a threat.”

My eyes drift toward the living room.

Dex has managed to migrate half his body off the couch.

Of course.

“But my body didn't always get the memo.”

Mom laughs softly. “That's one way to put it.”

“I was jealous sometimes. Possessive. There were moments I hated how much I didn't hate it, which was its own problem.”

“That sounds healthy.”

“Shut up.”

She laughs again.

Good.

“But I worked through it,” I say. “We all did. And somewhere along the way, it stopped feeling like something I was agreeing to.”

I look toward Micah.

He catches me watching and raises an eyebrow.

I shake my head.

Nothing.

He goes back to drawing.