Page 184 of Heal Me, Love Me

“I did.”

For a second, he just stared at me. “What happened?”

I leaned back against the headboard. “You were right about Devon.”

“He pitched the fight?”

“Yep. He thought it was what I needed.”

Rowan’s expression darkened. “He actually said that?”

“Pretty much. He admitted he noticed I was stuck after the breakup and said he thought fighting each other might force us to move forward.”

“That wasn’t his decision to make.”

“That’s what I said.”

“What happened after that?”

“Once I realized he was making decisions for me because he thought he knew what I needed, I couldn’t stay.”

“And that was it?”

“Yep. Coach managed to set me up at a gym in Rocklin. It definitely wasn’t the same setup as I was used to, but we made it work.”

“That’s wild. Where have you been living?”

“In a crappy month-to-month apartment.” I chuckled.

His eyebrows lifted. “How crappy?”

“The hot water only works half the time, and the AC isn’t much better.”

“Why didn’t you find something else?”

I grabbed my water from the nightstand. “The plan was to use some of the fight money.”

Understanding settled across his face. “You were waiting.”

“Yeah.” Not just for the money, but for the next step, for a life I hadn’t quite figured out yet.

Rowan’s fingers tightened around mine. “I’m happy that there’s an us again and we can figure all this out together.”

“Me too.”

I didn’t know where we’d be a month from now, which city we’d call home, or how many difficult conversations were still waiting once I was cleared to leave Austin, but for the first time in almost a year, nothing felt impossible.

Whatever came next, we’d figure it out together.

EPILOGUE

Rowan

Six MonthsLater

The first timeKeaton and I lived together as adults, neither of us had chosen it. I’d needed a place to stay, Devon had an open room in his rental, and Keaton happened to be on the other side of the shared bathroom. We hadn’t spoken in four years, and then we were brushing past each other in the hallway every day, both of us angry and pretending avoidance was easier than dealing with what we’d lost. At the time, it felt like the worst possible setup. Now I knew it was exactly where we’d needed to be, even if neither of us understood it then.

Our apartment in Tampa was different because we’d picked it together. It wasn’t anything special, just a decent one-bedroom with a kitchen drawer that stuck if I pulled it the wrong way, an air conditioner that clicked before it turned on, and upstairs neighbors who walked like they were trying to put a hole through the ceiling.