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“And for now,” I said, considering the blank space, “no restraints.”

“All right.”

“I might want to talk about that later.”

“Then we talk later.”

“Nothing covering my mouth. I need to be able to speak.”

“Yes.”

That answer came immediately.

I hadn’t known how much I needed it to.

It was astonishing, the number of sentences I could say when nobody treated them as accusations.

In other rooms, I had learned to package a boundary gently. Start with reassurance. Add praise. Explain that the request wasn’t criticism. Offer enough context that the other person didn’t have to experience the discomfort of being told no.

Cash sat across from me and let no be the useful word it was.

“Anything you know you do want?” he asked.

That question was worse.

Limits made a fence. Wanting required me to point at something on the other side.

I studied the pen cap.

“I liked the kiss.”

“I liked it too.”

“I liked you being certain.”

He stayed quiet.

“But I need the certainty to come after you ask.”

“Yes.”

I wrote that down, then crossed out a word and tried again.

Ask first. Confidence is welcome. Assumptions aren’t.

Cash leaned forward to read it. “Fair.”

There was another truth sitting in my throat. Less tidy. More difficult to deliver without making it sound like a request for the thing I had spent the morning protecting myself against.

“Sometimes,” I said, “I would like not to decide the next thing.”

Cash’s gaze lifted.

“Within what we’ve agreed.”

“Understood.”

“I still want to be asked whether I’m comfortable.”