Page 12 of Wells

"Just saying..."

"Can we talk about something else? You clearly came for blood today. And I'm not in the mood," I snap at him, immediately regretting my tone. Locke is my best friend, and we haven't seen each other in almost a month. I force myself to breathe.

Locke watches me for another beat, then nods once. "Sorry, Cera Beara. I didn't mean to sound like that. I was just picking on you."

"I know. I'm tired. He had me up late, so I'm a little crabby. Forgive me?"

"Nothing to forgive, Darlin'. You know I always love you."

I turn my almost-empty cup, disturbing the sediment at the bottom. Pieces of burnt orange flecks dance around in the little juice left.

"Why not just let yourself relax a bit, practice yoga, and reset? You don't have to depend on him forever, but you can for a while. Don't kill yourself in the job-hunt rat race."

The question catches me off guard, and I blink at him.

"Because I can't be someone's secret, masked, online affair forever."

"I get that. But it is a pretty sweet deal you've gotten yourself into, I'm not going to lie. No STDs, no bad kisser or stinky BO. And maybe you get off a little during work."

I throw my straw at him. "You're a dirty dog. Which is precisely why I love you."

"I've been called worse. I'll take it." He sobers, watching me. "How are you holding up, really? Tell me you're still going to the rec center and not just doom-scrolling job boards in the dark."

"I get to go three mornings a week now. It's the only thing keeping me sane." It's the first easy thing I've said all morning.

"I added another kids' class. We did tree pose yesterday. One of my little ones held it a whole breath for the first time, then looked at me like she'd sprouted wings."

"You love those babies."

"I'd only do that for the rest of my life if rent worked that way." The warmth of it lasts about a second before it cools. "Cas used to watch me leave for it like I was throwing myself in the trash. Told me once those kids needed money and a stable home, not a yoga mat and breathing exercises, and that I was playing pretend instead of building a real life. He said it gently. Somehow that made it land harder."

"Cas was a genuine shitbird," Locke says, no heat in it, just fact.

"He was." But it stuck where his words always stuck, right under the part of me that already wondered the same thing. I shake it off and reach for the one piece of good news I have.

"I've actually interviewed twice with one company. All indications point to an offer. I've only met with HR, so my next step is to meet with the person who would be my direct manager. That's in the works."

Locke's head snaps up, and his grin breaks wide. "Well, that's amazing. Why didn't you start with that? If it's really something you'd like and not just clocking in your eight."

Because you dove right into my salacious, dirty secret, I want to say, but I let it go.

"It could be a really cool job. I'd be doing my graphic design work in a corporate setting. Could be stable or stifling, I'm not entirely sure. But the pay is amazing, and it's the first time I've made it to a third interview, so the bar's low."

"I just want to see you smile, so if this is what you want, then I'm happy for you.”

"It's not final yet. But, yeah. First real promising lead in three months, so I'm pretty pumped about it. My confidence has taken a hit."

Locke leans back and whistles low. "So you're about to have a real job and a cyber John on the side. That's going to take boss-energy balance work. Good thing you're a yogi."

I kick his shin again, and he laughs.

"Multi-tasking is hot."

"You're dumb."

"You're going to keep him, though, right?" Locke tilts his head, and his grin softens into something closer to curiosity. "If you land the job. You're not cutting him loose."

I shrug. "Sure. Why not? As long as it's working."