“Yes.”
“And you’re still training.”
“I know that now.”
Dani sat on the mat opposite me.
“You have to trust me with bad information too.”
The irony was immediate. She heard it after saying it. Her gaze dropped. I waited.
“Fair,” she said.
“The disclosure window,” I said. “Does it still end this week?”
Her shoulders tightened. “Yes.”
“The quiz is Wednesday.”
“Thursday evening. My apartment. No gym, no audience, no reason to leave halfway through.”
The exact date produced relief and resentment in equal measure. “Thursday.”
“I met Evelyn,” I said.
Her posture changed before her face did. “What happened?”
“She admitted she kissed Vanessa before our breakup.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I suspected. Confirmation remains different from suspicion.”
“What did she say about me?”
“She found the public race results and called two starts with no finishes quitting.”
Dani pressed her molars together. Her thumb pressed into the edge of the mat. “That is not the word I use.”
“What word do you use?”
“Stopped.”
“Thursday will explain the distinction?”
“Yes. I want to defend it now. That would make this conversation about Evelyn’s wording instead of what I owe you.”
The correction was visible. Not complete disclosure. Better behavior.
“Then Thursday remains,” I said.
I gathered the resistance band. Dani took it from me and placed it in the bag.
“Sunday dinner,” she said.
“You’re still coming?”
“You keep asking.”
