Page 65 of Gamebreaker

"Can I walk you back?" Cam stood too, still looking unsteady. "I know I don't have to. I'd just... like to."

I wanted to say no. Wanted to maintain my distance, protect myself from further damage. But I was tired of being angry, tired of carrying this hurt, tired of feeling like I had to guard against everyone.

And Cam looked so genuinely distraught that sending her away felt cruel.

"Fine. But if you start crying again, I'm calling you a SHAU4. I can't handle public emotional breakdowns before noon."

“Deal.”

We walked back toward my building in more comfortable silence this time. The city felt less hostile, the morning less oppressive. Cam adjusted her stride to match mine.

We were about a block from Reliant Insurance when a car passed too close to the curb, driving faster than the speed limit warranted. Before I could react, Cam's hand was on my waist, pulling me toward the building side of the sidewalk, putting herself between me and the street.

The car was already gone, no real danger, but Cam's hand stayed on my waist for an extra second before she seemed to realize and dropped it.

The touch burned through my clothes, making my skin feel too hot, too aware, too everything.

"Sorry," she said. "Instinct."

"Very chivalrous," I observed, trying to ignore the warmth spreading from where she'd touched me. "Also unnecessary. We're both women. I'm not a damsel who needs protecting from traffic."

"I know."

"Do you? Because you're still walking on the street side."

"Old habit." But she didn't make any move to switch places.

I noticed, and registered it in the growing list of moments where Cam's actions didn't match her words, where her careful control slipped and vulnerability showed through.

Where she touched me like I meant something to her.

We reached my building's entrance. Cam stopped, shoving her hands in her pockets like she didn't know what else to do with them.

"Thank you," she said quietly. "For giving me a chance to apologize. For listening. For not telling me to fuck off, even though I deserved it."

"Don't thank me yet. I'm still deciding if I actually forgive you or if I'm just too tired to stay angry."

"Let me know when you figure it out?"

"Sure. I'll send you a formal memo. Very official. Lots of bullet points."

Cam's mouth did that almost-smile thing again. "I'd appreciate that."

I turned to go inside, then stopped and looked back at her. "Cam?"

"Yeah?"

"The bravery thing? It goes both ways. Coming out is hard. Staying closeted is hard. They're both hard. Don't beat yourself up for choosing the path that feels safest."

Something shifted in her expression. Something dangerously close to gratitude mixed with surprise mixed with fresh tears threatening to spill.

"And also?" I continued. "Go home. Sleep. Eat actual meals. Maybe call your family. You can't function like this."

"Harper.”

"I'm serious. I can't have productive conversations with you if you're a sleep-deprived emotional disaster. So take care of yourself. That's not a request. That's a requirement if you want another chance."

She nodded, not trusting her voice.