Page 85 of On a Deadline

The steady hum of the fridge. The creak in the floor near the couch. Leo snoring softly against her leg. Morning light slipped through the blinds, cutting the room into long, quiet stripes.

She hadn’t meant to wake early, but she couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept through the night. Her body seemed to keep score even when her mind didn’t want to.

Leo stretched, paws twitching, and let out a low groan that made her smile before she could stop herself. “You’re getting old,” she murmured. He wagged his tail once, half asleep.

The coffee pot gurgled in the kitchen. She stood barefoot on the tile, waiting for it to fill, and tried to name the strange calm that had settled over her. It wasn’t peace. It was what came after running out of ways to stay angry.

She poured a mug, no cream, no sugar, and leaned against the counter. The apartment smelled like rain and dog shampoo, both faint but familiar.

For the first time in days, she didn’t feel hollow. She just felt tired.

Her phone sat on the table, facedown beside Leo’s leash. She’d stopped flipping it over every time it buzzed, but the habit hadn’t died completely. Sometimes she still caught herself listening for a vibration that never came.

She hated that she missed Jamie. Hated that the wanting had survived everything else.

Erin took her coffee to the couch. Leo followed, hopping up and curling against her side. She rubbed behind his ear, the same spot that always made his back leg kick.

“You’re too easy,” she said softly. “You forgive everything.”

He thumped his tail against the cushion, unconcerned.

The quiet pressed close again, gentle but insistent. For weeks she’d been trying to outwork it, outwalk it, outfeel it, but it had waited her out. Now there was nowhere left to run from the truth: she missed Jamie more than she hated her.

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t smart. It just was.

She set her mug down and stared at her phone. Her hand hovered over it for a long time. The message she wanted to send was too big to fit in words, and the one she could send felt small and stupid.

Still, she unlocked the screen. Her thumb moved before her mind could stop it.

You can come see Leo if you want.

She read it twice, debating whether to delete it. It sounded pathetic, like a peace offering wrapped in denial. But she couldn’t think of a better way to say what she meant:I want to see you, but I don’t know how to ask.

Leo shifted beside her, letting out a contented sigh. Erin exhaled too, thumb hesitating oversend.

Then she hit it.

The message sent with a quiet whoosh. The tiny, final sound of her armor giving way.

She set the phone down on the table and tried not to look at it. Leo rested his head on her thigh. She scratched the soft fur between his ears and whispered, “Now we wait, huh?”

He didn’t move, but his tail flicked once, like he understood.

Minutes stretched. The clock on the microwave ticked too loud. Her coffee went cold.

When the phone finally buzzed, she jumped.

For a heartbeat she couldn’t move. Then she reached for it with shaking hands.

Yeah. I’d like that.

Erin read it twice, the words settling somewhere deep in her chest.

Another buzz followed.

When?

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard. She could picture Jamie sitting there, phone in hand, afraid to push too hard. The image softened something inside her.