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“Thank you for another amazing class,” I started, popping on a bright smile.

“It’s my pleasure,” Mr. Mitchell said.

“I just wanted to mention that I, uh…” I paused, clearing my throat as my gaze dropped to the stack of portfolios on his desk. “I actually didn’t bring my portfolio today.”

I tried to remember all my practiced responses as Mr. Mitchell’s brows knitted together. “You didn’t?”

“I forgot it at home,” I blurted, which was the condensed version of the eloquent and emotional speech I had planned during the second half of the class. “I’m so sorry.”

He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “Is there any way you could drop it off tomorrow?”

I blinked. Tomorrow was…tomorrow.And I had at least two days’ worth of work left on that portfolio.Shit shit shit.“Well, you know, actually, Mr. Mitchell…” My throat tightened again, and the tears were back. “My project wasn’t quite ready. I’m so sorry. I mixed up the dates; I thought it was due Thursday. But it’s almost done, and I promise I’ll have it at the next class. I’ll even get here early.”

A long sigh escaped Mr. Mitchell as he looked me over, his jaw working back and forth. “I didn’t expect this from you.”

My shoulders sagged. “I feel like an idiot.”

“You’ve been so good about the assignments.”

“I know it probably doesn’t help, but I recently started a new job and it’s been…a lot. Time-consuming is an understatement.” My voice was nearly a whisper. “I’m trying my best, but I’ve been distracted. I’ll do better.”

Mr. Mitchell nodded slowly, his chair creaking as he leaned forward. “Bring it Thursday. I’ll expect your best work. But you’ll automatically lose 10% of your grade for being tardy.”

I swallowed the knot in my throat, nodding rapidly. “Of course. I understand. That’s no problem.”

He offered me a small smile. “And I hope your new job goes well.”

“Thank you, Mr. Mitchell.” I brought my hands together as though I was praying. “You are the best. And I can’t wait for you to see my project.”

I raced out of the classroom, my mind whirring with thoughts. In my head, I began reorganizing my schedule over the next two days to accommodate the work I needed to crank out. It could be done. It would be hard, but it could be done.

And I was going to do it.

Step one involved tonight, and I’d stay up until one in the morning if necessary to get the head start I so desperately needed. If I could finish the final designs required for the portfolio tonight, then I could spend the next two days fine-tuning and tweaking the entire thing.Excellent.I reached the subway station and sank onto a seat on my train before allowing myself to finally release a deep breath.

I had a plan, and it would work.

I checked my phone as the train lurched into motion. New work emails and bank account notifications awaited me. And some texts from Damian.

DAMIAN: Call me when you get home tonight. That’ll shut me up.

I smiled down at the phone. Whenever I had plans that conflicted with Tommy’s, he’d either sulk to the point of not talking to me for a full day, or he’d do whatever possible to sabotage my plans. Attempting a similar course in Kentucky would have resulted in my dropping out, I was sure of it. He’d only ever wanted me on his schedule. When my own life, wants, and needs affected his, all hell broke loose.

I still wasn’t sure how we’d been together for five years. But I still thanked God daily that I’d managed to get away.

And now I had someone who respected my time. Someone who didn’t go ballistic at the mere suggestion of pursuing a class on my own.

My smile lasted only momentarily, before logic and reason stepped in.

You don’thaveDamian. He’s not yours. He doesn’t want anything serious. Remember?

The smile morphed into a frown. This was going to take some getting used to. And I wasn’t sure how well I’d do at it.

A half hour later, I hurried to my apartment complex, my door key at the ready so that I didn’t spend even a second longer than I needed to on the barely lit sidewalk. When Nicole and I had first moved in, she’d had an unfortunate encounter on the street involving two guys and a knife. She’d escaped unscathed, but at the expense of her favorite designer purse. Ever since then, we’d proceeded with caution at nighttime. And every Monday and Wednesday had me hurrying with bated breath to reach the front door and lock myself safely inside.

These were the details I didn’t share with Jeremy. He and Tara probably imagined worse things anyway, so why would I add fuel to the fire? Once I’d dropped my things and gotten settled in the living room, portfolio spread out on the coffee table, I called Damian on speakerphone.

He answered almost immediately. “There you are.”

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