Sunday.

I was at the hospital, quietly standing in line at the cashier, holding the ATM card with my name on it, even though I knew it had come from Terrence.

“Maybe your pride won’t allow you to use a card with my name on it, so I asked Warren to open an account for you instead.”

I remembered what he said, and honestly, I almost laughed that time. Almost.

I stopped myself.

Please — he might think we were suddenly close. No thanks.

It’s like he already knows my personality a ...