“I don’t know what you want me to say.” “What you’re thinking,” she suggests. “How you’re feeling.” I’m thinking you’re going to break me into a million pieces, and I’m feeling like the floor is going to fall out from under me at any possible second. “How long is the studio letting you work remotely?” Her brows furrow. “We haven’t really talked about it, why?” I shrug. “Just wondering how much longer you’re going to be here before you go back to your perfect new life.” “That’s what this is about?” she asks. “Hayes, I’m here. Right here. Don’t you get that?” “Yeah,” I huff. “I do. I also get
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