Page 638 of End Game

It still hurts.

Of course it does.

But the hurt has moved into his life instead of swallowing all of it.

Maybe that's what healing actually looks like.

Enough room for other things again.

Dex straightens suddenly. “Oh, shit.”

Micah looks over. “What?”

“You haven’t heard this revised chorus yet.”

“I have nothing to do with that.”

“You have ears.”

“So does Cami.”

Dex looks at me.

“No.”

“You haven't even heard the pitch.”

“I have a deadline.”

“You always have a deadline now.” He says it teasingly.

Still, something warm catches behind my ribs.

I do.

I have deadlines.

Plural.

Clients who send revisions.

Invoices that get paid.

A calendar I actually have to maintain because if I do not, approximately five people will tell me I overcommitted.

My work used to be whatever I could find that would cover rent, insulin, and whatever catastrophe my body invented that month.

Now I'm turning down projects.

Not many, but enough.

I glance at the corner of my screen where the invoice total for this client sits minimized.

Definitely enough.

“I'll listen after I finish Greg's emotional journey with the word reliable.”

Dex nods solemnly. “Godspeed.”