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I lie back down, facing him. Tucking my hands under my cheek, I ask, “I know it’s fast to move in together, but we’ve already done it. My room feels so far from you sometimes.”

Since he’s barely awake, I’m probably not catching him at a great time, but what’s time when you’re in bed with your boyfriend?

Turning to grab his watch from the nightstand, he squints through the low light of early morning to check the time. He sets it back down and then scrubs his hands over his face. “It’s 5:45 in the morning. You’re going to have to help me out here.”

I wave my hand between us and the door. “Our rooms are so far apart in this place that I might as well still live in Brooklyn.”

“I’ve still got nothing, Tealey. You’ll have to spoon-feed it to me.”

Not sure what he’s not understanding, I huff and sit back up. “Why are we still existing in two rooms?”

Now I have his attention—eyes wide open, line between his brows. “You want to move into my room? You’re already here.”

“I want us to get ready for bed and work together, to have a set space that we go to without asking ‘my place or yours’ every night. Sure, it’s funny, but it’s starting to feel like a barrier instead.”

Flipping the covers off his body, he gets out of bed and stretches. As he heads for the bathroom, he says, “You can move into my room on one condition.”

“Name it.”

He returns to me and pulls off the covers, letting his gaze graze down my body. “You take your shower with me in the mornings.”

I flop back down on the bed with my hands behind my head and my ankles crossed, soaking in this victory. “I have no problem with that.”

“Then you have yourself a deal.” His head signals toward the bathroom. “Deal starts now. Get that sexy ass in there.”

Sitting at my desk a few hours later, I hear Misty Connor asking for me. I stand. “I’m here. Come on back.”

Her eyes meet mine, and she walks down the corridor created by the cubicles, stopping when she reaches mine. I smile, noticing that she’s holding her head up and looking me in the eyes. “Hi, you weren’t here last week when I came by.”

Remembering my day of playing hooky, I try not to let guilt from missing work set in. It’s a hard habit to break, though. “Sorry I missed you. I was out that day. Have a seat. I’d like to hear an update.”

She sits in the chair, setting the brown purse at her feet.

Although it’s a gentler smile she’s wearing, it’s more than any I’ve seen on her before.

She says, “Mr. Wellington has helped my case tremendously. I actually have hope that it’s going to work out how it’s supposed to.

Deacon hasn’t violated the restraining order despite threats that he would. ”

“You need to report those threats. A record of certain types of behavior is critical for a judge to side in your favor.”

“Yes. My attorney went over everything that he set up. I can’t thank you enough, Tealey. Rad has been a blessing, and he’s so nice. You said you were friends, but when I mentioned you, he looked different. I don’t mean to pry, but I can tell he thinks very highly of you.”

I try not to, but I smile. “I appreciate that, Misty. I don’t normally discuss my personal life with clients, so please forgive me.”

“No. No.” She raises her hands in front of her. “I understand. Just thought it was worth mentioning.”

I can feel my heart racing like Rad and I share more than a bedroom now. Our lives have entwined in a way that makes me glad I took a chance involving him. “Do you have time to go over the benefits?”

“Yes, that’s why I came. I spoke to a social worker in Philadelphia near where my mom lives.”

“If you need me, I can help with the transfer and verifications.”

I can’t stop looking at how different she appears—healthier, less burdened by life, no bruises or black eyes.

She says, “There’s a lot of paperwork. I’m surprised it’s not all in the system.”

“It’s an antiquated system, but we’re working on getting it updated.” I slide my keyboard closer and type in her name to pull up her file.

“Mr. Wellington suggested I consider serving the divorce papers in the next week. That would give me time to get us moved to Philly and find a job before school starts.”

Though she’s not asking, I’m not in a position to offer advice. “I can’t offer you legal advice, but I would trust Mr. Wellington with my life.” And my heart, but that’s too personal to mention.

I don’t have much time, but I have enough to set her up with a resource director in Philly as well as a contact from one of the social services’ offices near her mom’s house. As soon as she’s gone, Lowell dips his face over the dividing wall. “Come to my office, Tealey.”

As soon as I know the clients waiting up front are situated with another social worker, I trek back to Lowell’s office. Knocking twice on the door with my knuckle causes him to look up. “Come in and take a seat.” I move around the chair to sit, but he stops me. “Close the door first.”

That’s something he could have told me from the beginning. I do it begrudgingly and then sit down. I don’t bother asking questions when I know he’s happy to tell me what displeases him.

He says, “From my understanding, you left our protocols at the door to find a lawyer who you approved versus what the state of New York deems appropriate to help a client. I don’t like people who step outside the lines.

What makes you think you know better than all the people who came before you?

” What the actual hell? He is such an asshole.

“I don’t think I’m smarter. I did what I had to do, which was find a better lawyer than the advisor she was assigned.

That’s not going outside of my job description, but actually fulfilling it.

” I stand, ready to leave this nonsense behind.

Let him write me up if he so chooses. I can defend my decision to help my clients. Unlike him.

I open the door and start to leave but stop with the doorknob in my hand when he says, “I’m reassigning you to Poughkeepsie.”

My stomach drops as I try to process what he just said. I turn back with my mouth wide open. “Poughkeepsie?”

His chair squeals in protest when he relaxes back in it. Holding a pen in his hands, he says, “I believe it will be a good fit for you.”

I have no idea if he’s flipping the bird to my career or taking our personal conflicts out on me. “Isn’t it great news?” he asks, his tone so flat that I’m still trying to figure out if he’s telling the truth.

“Are you for real?” My composure is all but gone, and my emotions are shredded. I’m not sure if I should feel angry or sad.

“I’m for real, all right.” He cackles like all evil humans do and clicks the keyboard like he’s setting a pack of dogs free to attack me.

“I already approved your transfer. They’ll let us know in the next few weeks when you’ll be starting.” Like an electric shock shooting right through me, I’m astounded by his boldness.

“Why would you do that without consulting me?”

“Because I figured one job in Poughkeepsie was better than no job at all.”

Angry works. “You’re firing me?”

“No. We have budget cuts. It makes no sense to fire Peggy because she’s leaving.”

Still struggling to comprehend, I ask, “I don’t have a job in this office anymore?”

“That’s what budget cuts mean. I have spots for two, and .

. .it’s easier to let you know so you have time to figure out what you’re going to do.

I heard you still haven’t found a place to live.

” Lowell leans forward, stabbing his elbows into the worn wood of his desk and folding his fingers together.

“This is the sign you’ve been waiting for.

Make the move and start fresh with a new crew. ”

My temper flares, and my hands fist at my side. How dare he! He may see me as meek, but I’m stronger than he can ever imagine. I won’t walk away quietly.

“What if I don’t want to start fresh? I’ve earned my position in this office, Lowell.

Not even for you. I do a good job. You’ve never received a complaint.

My record is clear. It’s glowing, in fact.

Tell me the real reason I’m being cut.” My heated emotions begin to subside.

“Not that I want any of the others to move either. They have family in the area. Kids in the local schools . . .” And then it all begins to make sense.