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Maybe it wouldn’t.

For once in my life, I wasn’t forcing myself to know the ending before I even got there.

My phone buzzed on the couch.

Levin glanced toward it.

I didn’t.

“Your little boyfriend?”

I slowly looked at him.

His face was straight.

Mine wasn’t.

“You wanna go home?”

“I asked a question.”

“And I asked one.”

He smirked.

“I ain’t worried about that nigga.”

“You don’t even know who it is.”

I laughed.

“Jealous ass.”

“I don’t get jealous.”

“Okay, Levin.”

“Fuck you.”

“Maybe later.”

His eyebrow lifted.

“See? That’s why I keep coming over here.”

I laughed and pushed him away from me.

Four months ago, I couldn’t have imagined laughing like this.

I couldn’t imagine much of anything past the next argument.

The next court date.

The next custody conversation.

The next time Xay decided my no wasn’t good enough.

I’d spent so much time preparing myself to fight that man for my freedom that sometimes it still felt strange waking up and realizing there wasn’t a fight left to have.