Page 197 of The Exit Strategy

I came to this spot today thinking we were over before we began.

But I’m still here.

And I haven’t promised to stay. Both decisions feel very Junie-coded. So I sit with them. Mull them over. And then realize I can’t decide anything today. The new me needs to make a pros and cons list before reacting.

It feels very mature for Spite-Berry, so perhaps she’s behind me after all.

“Cole.”

“Junie.”

“I’m not calling this fixed.”

“I didn’t ask you to.”

“Hmm,” I hum. “I’m going to see Bea on Wednesday.”

His relief is palpable. “Wednesday. As in, a week from now?”

I nod. Okay, so I just agreed to stay. For one week, not forever.

Not yet.

“That’s great, Junie.”

“And I think I want to start my own firm.” The heat of his stare scorches the side of my face. “Something small. I kind of fell down a rabbit hole the other night and realized how often small businesses are taken advantage of. I think—I think I could help them.”

Whatever power Cole Whittaker holds over me, it drags my gaze to his now.

“You’ll be amazing.” He means it too. It’s there in his eyes.

“I’ll have to work in Charleston some weeks.”

His expression never shifts. “There are a lot of small businesses there, so that makes sense.”

“I’m not ready to talk about the ring.” The confession is merely a whisper kissing air.

He looks at my ring finger. “About the fact that you could’ve taken it off already or the fact that it’s yours and has been since the day Nana Mae told me she was saving it for the woman I love?”

A very undignified scoff exits my mouth as I splutter. “Wha— I don’t know what you mean.”

He bumps my shoulder playfully. “I saw you a few weeks ago in your office. You were playing with it, but your mind was a million miles away. It came off, and you put it right back on.”

Heat floods my cheeks. “Nana Mae was right about the water weight,” I grumble.

“Nana Mae’s right about a lot of things. But we’ll havethatconversation, Junie, when you’re ready. Until then, please, just keep it. I don’t even care what finger it’s on. I’m not asking you to commit to it—yet—but it is a ring that lives on you. You should wear it.”

“Okay,” I say because truthfully, removing it feels like a divorce, and I’m not ready to file yet.

We sit while the day fades into night and the stars twinkle like our own secret language.

Cole didn’t flinch.

Two desks. Two people. Light from two directions.

And finally, I think we’re ready to be in the same room.

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