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Kiera nodded and swallowed, adjusting her grip. She let herself lean into the spin, pushing off the floor, the pole guiding her into a graceful, slow twirl. The first moment of flight always took her by surprise — how her body moved without her overthinking every step and gravity let her go, just for a second. The rush of momentum brought a brief flicker of freedom, and for a moment, she wasn’t a single, unemployed mom, or testing the waters of a new relationship, or a woman stuck between who she’d been and who she wanted to be.

Here, she was just Kiera.

She liked that.

She liked the version of herself that existed in this room — this Kiera didn’t hesitate, didn’t shrink herself down to fit into spaces she had outgrown. She wasn’t constantly trying to balance being a good mother, a good daughter, a good ex-wife, a good everything. Here, she wasn’t responsible for anyone but herself.

She finished the spin, landing lightly on her toes, heart hammering from a combination of nerves and exertion. For the first time since she had started coming here, she didn’t feel awkward or out of place. She felt… present. Strong. Capable. Brave.

By the end of class, her muscles burned and her heart pounded — not just from the effort, but from something quietersettling underneath it all. As her breath slowed and her body stretched into stillness, a different kind of release took hold. Not adrenaline, but understanding.

I don’t want to keep living out of fear.

She stood in front of the mirror, running a towel over the sweat glistening along her collarbone. She’d spent years making choices that made sense on paper — safe, sturdy, selfless. Always what was best for everyone else. But somewhere along the way, she’d stopped asking what she wanted. Now, when she looked at her own reflection, all she saw was someone trying to understand the person she’d become — and what it meant that Izzy had started to feel like something she couldn’t ignore.

Kiera had spent years making careful, measured choices — doing what was best for the people around her, always putting their needs first and pushing her own to the side. And what had it gotten her? A life half-lived. A marriage that had unraveled long before it officially ended. A version of herself she barely recognized.

But this? Showing up for herself? Making the choice to pursue things with Izzy. Moving her body in ways that terrified but thrilled her. It didn’t feel like fear. It felt like power. Like agency. Like she was finally getting a handle on exactly who she’d always been too afraid to be.

As she packed up her things and slipped on her sneakers, a thought unfurled in the back of her mind, one that she couldn’t stifle back down. What if she let herselfwantIzzy — fully, unapologetically, without bracing for the fallout? What if, for once, she didn’t overthink it or talk herself out of it, and just reached for the thing that made her feel alive?

Her fingers hovered over her phone as she walked to her car.

She could wait to tell Izzy about the offer. She could overthink it like she always did. She could keep telling herself that slow and careful was the only way to do this.

Or she could be brave. She could tell Izzy about the job offer before it loomed over every conversation.

She exhaled, pulse still thrumming from class, from clarity, from possibility. Then, before she could talk herself out of it, she unlocked her phone and hit call.

Izzy picked up on the second ring. “Hey,” she said.

Kiera could hear Maggie’s kids laughing in the background. She smiled to herself, climbing into her car. “Hey, I was just leaving pole class and was thinking about you.”

“Oh? Thinking about me during pole dancing sounds like something I’d like many, many more details about. Does this mean I get a seat in the audience for future performances?” Izzy asked.

Kiera snorted in amusement. “Keep playing your cards right.”

Izzy laughed. “Other than class, how was your day?”

Kiera sank back into the driver’s seat, her hands motionless on the steering wheel, not quite ready to turn the ignition. The silence of the parked car felt loud, too full of the thing she hadn’t said yet. “Good, actually. Um, I wanted to tell you something.”

“Sure, what’s up?” Izzy’s tone was light, casual — unprepared.

Kiera stared straight ahead, the streetlamp outside casting soft shadows across the dash. “I got a job offer,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

“That’s huge!” Izzy’s voice brightened instantly, warm and effortless, a genuine smile tucked between the words. “How are you feeling about it?”

“In Lincoln, Nebraska,” Kiera added, her thumb dragging along the ridge of the steering wheel like she could smooth out the tension building in her chest. She couldn’t look at her. Couldn’t breathe too deep. The moment felt fragile, like one wrong move might collapse it.

There was a pause. Then, softer: “Oh.”

And just like that, the air shifted — not cold, but quieter. Heavier. Kiera didn’t know what she wanted Izzy to say. Only that she already missed whatever ease they’d had a second ago. “Yeah.”

“I mean, that’s still awesome. I didn’t even know you were considering going back.”

“With all of the licensing issues, I applied like a random shot in the dark months ago. I didn’t expect to hear back, but it’s a sister district to where I taught before,” Kiera explained, hating that she felt like she had to explain herself about this.

“I’m happy for you. I know it’s been stressing you out,” Izzy said.