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I try not to let worry overcome me as I watch her sling her purse over her shoulder, telling me that Rita is waiting on her in the lobby and, once again, that she doesn’t need me to see her down. I know she wants to feel this independence; it’s not something she’s been able to have in years, and I want to give that to her, even if just a little.

I have no idea what I’m supposed to do when she’s gone since the last few days have revolved around her completely, trying to get her settled into my guest room. I’ve been plagued with worry that any moment could be the one that Alexander came after us, and each one that he doesn’t only worsens my anxiety. Like waiting for the other shoe to drop.

I try to do what my mother asks, doing my best to make myself busy in her absence. She’s been such a staple feature in myapartment the last few days, and I’ve loved having her here. It feels more like the us we were when I was a kid. I can only hope that with each day away from Alexander’s hold, it will get even better.

I’m sick of TV after the first hour, and by the second, I’m going a little stir crazy. I feed Purrgood; he’s been angry at me for days, I suspect because he misses Dani, which, join the club, my guy. I’ve been doing my best not to think about her, because I’m afraid if I do, I might just break down completely. I told her more or less that I would wait for her, hoping beyond hope that she would eventually decide to give us a real shot, but deep down…I’m afraid she might never be there.

Purrgood yowls at me, and I glance down to find him giving me a reproachful look, if that’s even possible for a cat. “Don’t look at me like that,” I tut. “Traitor.”

I leave him to his judging, padding into the kitchen to try to find something bad for me to distract from the stress that is my life right now. Something covered with cheese, I think. I’m still digging through a cabinet when I hear a knock at my door. I peer over my shoulder and frown, wondering if Mom forgot her key.

I jog through the living room to grab the handle, turning it. “Hey, did you forget your—?”

It’s not my mother.

My mouth hangs open, my question lost to the air as I stare at the woman in front of me, wondering if she’s a figment of my imagination. God knows I’ve thought about her enough this week to physically manifest her.

“Dani?”

“Hi.” She shifts in her heels, still in court clothes. It hits me then what day it is. “Can I come in?”

“I…yeah,” I manage, remembering myself. “Come in.”

She steps past me, making a happy sound when she spots my traitor cat trotting up to greet her. She bends to scratch behind his ears, and the sight is so reminiscent of easier days between us that it makes my chest hurt.

“Hey, big guy,” she coos. “Miss me?”

“He’s not the only one,” I tell her truthfully, causing her to peek back at me from over her shoulder with wide eyes.

She straightens, smoothing the fabric of her slacks and looking up at me through her lashes, and I notice for the first time the manila envelope in her hand. “I…missed you too.”

“Did you?”

It’s not a facetious question, I’m actually desperate to confirm it.

She chews on the inside of her lip, watching me. I feel like I’m standing on the edge of a high ledge as I wait for her to keep speaking. My heart thumps against my ribs; I still can’t be sure what it is she’s come to tell me. Whether or not she’s putting me out of my misery or ensuring it’s going to continue for a very long time.

But surprisingly, she doesn’t do either of those things.

“I won today,” she tells me.

“I…congratulations.”

“Did you know Anton was Lorenzo’s son?”

“I had suspicions,” I tell her with a shrug. “I didn’t have any proof.”

“So how did you know that telling me to look into him would work out?”

“I didn’t know for sure,” I say honestly. My mouth quirks. “But I knew if anyone could find the dirt to take that sleazeball down, it would be you.”

Still, her expression gives me nothing, her jaw working in thought. “Why didn’t you tell me that you quit?”

I breathe out a sigh. “Because…I didn’t want to put any more pressure on you.”

“Pressure.”

“Yes, pressure. I know that everything that happened between us was a lot for you to process, and with that and the trial…I figured you had enough on your plate without adding any more confusing elements.”