She tightened her arms.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“Twelve participants?”
“Fourteen, provided enrollment thresholds are met.”
Dani turned me in her arms.
“Price.”
“What?”
“You got me fourteen.”
“I built a financial case.”
“You got me fourteen.”
Her joy filled the small office. I smiled.
“You retain Miguel’s program review and Rose’s medical protocols.”
“Yes.”
“Attendance reporting monthly.”
“Yes.”
“No expansion until the quarter ends.”
“Boring.”
“Necessary.”
“I love you.”
It arrived daily now—not always dramatically, often during coffee, laundry, or calendar disputes. Still meaningful.
“I love you too.”
She kissed me. The door opened. Blake stood there. We separated. They looked at the closed door.
“This is a workplace.”
“It was closed,” Dani said.
“That makes it worse.”
“Financial meeting,” I said.
Blake looked at the certificate frame.
“You fixed it.”
“Yes.”
