Page 216 of Terms of Exposure

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"Pull over," I said.

He hesitated, then eased onto the shoulder. Gravel crunched beneath the tires.

I let the apology hang. Let him wait.

Fury threatened to rise, but Dr. Raines's voice lived in my mind as well.

You're not going to leave here perfect communicators. You'll make mistakes. You'll get scared and fall back into old patterns. The work isn't about never slipping. It's about seeing when you have, naming it, and choosing differently—sooner each time.

"I'm not mad," I said at last.

He looked up, confusion flicking across his features. "You're not?"

"No," I said reluctantly. "You lied to me, yes. But you also told me the truth."

I huffed a humorless laugh. "Eventually."

He grimaced.

I almost smiled. "At least this time it didn't take you months."

"Progress?" he asked hopefully.

I nodded. "Progress."

"It doesn't help us with our Nathan problem," I groaned.

Damien slumped in his seat. "No it does not."

A car blurred past, headlights glinting in Chomps the crocodile's shiny eyes.

"I love him," I said wistfully.

Damien balked. "What?"

"Chomps," I explained, smiling at the stuffed animal.

Damien sighed, pressing a hand to his chest. "Oh thank god, I thought you meant Nathan."

"Hell no." I chuckled, another car passing by.

This time he joined, his grip on the wheel relaxing.

"Now drive, Mr. Holt. I've processed my emotions and I require pizza."

"It's nearly midnight."

"Lucio's is open until two," I said, already pulling out my phone.

He did a small, victorious fist pump. "Garlic knot crust?"

"Absolutely." I smiled. "It's going in our vows."

"Vows?"

I kept my eyes on my phone. Suddenly fascinated by mozzarella sticks.

"Forget I said anything."

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