Page 648 of End Game

“Not when honesty is more useful.”

“That sounds about right.” Her voice warms. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

When the call ends, the quiet in the car feels different.

Nothing is fixed.

That is probably why it feels real.

Cami is sitting cross-legged on her bed when I find her, laptop balanced in front of her and a glucose tab between her teeth like a very small, medically sanctioned piece of candy.

She looks up. “Hey.”

“Hi.”

I remain in the doorway long enough for her to close the laptop.

That tells me she has registered something in my face.

“What happened?”

“I met with Ben.”

Her body changes immediately.

Her shoulders stiffen. One hand settles flat against the laptop.

I hate that his name can still do that.

“He texted me and asked to meet. I didn't tell you beforehand because I didn't want you spending two days thinking about a conversation you weren't part of.”

She considers that. “Okay.”

“He apologized.”

Cami blinks.

Then again.

“Actually?”

“Yes.”

I sit on the edge of the bed, leaving enough space that she chooses whether to close it.

She does, shifting until her knee rests against my thigh.

“He specifically acknowledged backing you into the refrigerator, touching you, sexualizing the fact that you're polyamorous, and dismissing it as a joke afterward.”

Her mouth tightens.

“He's in counseling with Tori. She has apparently considered leaving him. He also acknowledged there have been other situations where his behavior toward women was inappropriate.”

Cami looks down at her hands.

I wait.