Page 289 of A Taste of Vanilla

“That’s fair.”

“And I love how steady you are. But you can’t manage me the way you did.”

I nod sadly.

“I don’t want a relationship where I have to fight for the right to know what’s happening in my own life,” she says.

“No.”

“I don’t want to be protected from the truth. I also don’t want to lose myself to be loved.”

The words are so quiet I almost don’t hear them.

I step closer. “You won’t.”

Her brows pull together.

“If we are going to do this, there are rules.”

I nod.

“First rule: no secret fixing. If something affects my business, my body, my apartment, my family, my friendships, or my life, I want to know before you act, unless there is immediate danger.”

“Yes.”

“Second rule: ask before helping.”

I nod.

“Third rule: if I say no, don’t punish me by getting cold or weird. I know this isn’t something you did, but I need to say it.”

“Understood.”

“Fourth rule: you are allowed to be scared, but you have to say it like a person, not convert it into logistics to make everyone live inside a spreadsheet.”

I nod.

“Fifth rule: I also have to be honest when I feel like running.”

My heart sinks. “You don’t have to?—”

“No, I do.” Her chin lifts. “If I expect the truth from you, I owe you the truth too. I can take up space, but I have to say when I feel like everything is too much and I need to get out.”

I want to tell her she doesn’t have to make rules for herself right now. I want to say I was the one who hurt her. I want to reject any rule that puts the weight on her.

But she’s not asking permission.

She’s building with me.

“Okay.”

“Sixth rule,” she says.

“Yes?”

She points at the chalkboard. “Joy gets a chaos budget.”

I stare at her. “A what?”