Playing Russian Roulette.

I'm a real big fan of yours,
But I'm quite the joke to you,
But, girl, it wasn't a joke when you kissed me in your room
And replied 'I love you too'.
I'm a little bit insecure from all these mistreatments,
But see I'm working it out.
I'm working it out, it's so damn hard when you're alone.

-Nevershoutnever!

A restless battle within myself forced me to stay awake until the RV rocked to a steady stop in the darkened, moonlit parking lot. Until Stefan and Devin came filing tiredly down the hall, passed the bunk in the crook and into their master bedroom.

Tossing and turning, smacking my limbs into the enclosed walls around me, I argued with vicious thoughts and stinging issues, tears wishing to push passed my eyelids, but my drunken stupor keeping my emotions in a deep reserve. It was a battle I could not win.

I fought with whether Max loved me, or if he was only physically attracted to me. That being the case, everything I wanted meant nothing anymore. I wasn’t looking for attraction; I wanted someone to marry, to love me and give all the things Ronnie refused to hand over, true, real love being one of my wildest wishes. Well, they seemed wild now after the previous night‘s events.

But Max, the little noncommittal bastard, had no plans to give me anymore than Ronnie if my assumptions were correct. He would be nicer and not abuse me, but why try if he wasn’t one hundred percent into our relationship? Wasting my time was something I wasn’t going to do.

Lack thereof, better put, of a relationship. I thrust blame at him for that as well. Had he been mature enough to actually fall in love with someone like me, my broken heart wouldn’t be on his karmic record. Another jot against Green! He lead some poor innocent sucker on.

Some time after the RV became still, I sank into a disgusting, horrible sleep. Everything on the other side of conciousness was dark, and I was running, from someone or something I was incapable of seeing, but it could see me. It chased me and chased me, and I ran for what seemed like hours and hours, crying out for someone to help me.

No one did. No one else appeared in my dream, only myself and the invisible force tailing as I ran like a bat out of hell. I simply could not get away from it, no matter how hard I tried or how much I kicked my ass to move faster, to put as much distance between myself and the problem.

Help me, help me! I cried out into the darkness, yet not a single sound sprung from my mouth that I could hear. No, you can’t run away from me, Juliet, came a vicious response through the impenetrable black.

How long the dream actually lasted, I had no idea. It seemed like forever, though, and I thought it would never end. I was going to be trapped in some level of hell, being chased by unsolved problems and heartless guys.

A furry presence ran along the arm exposed from beneath my blanket. Even before I was fully awake, I muttered, “Ghost, go away. Mommy is trying to sleep.”

But he did not. He heard my voice and yelped shrilly in my ear, and attacked my face in wet Boxer kisses. I batted him away, and he came right back, kissing and yelping and whining. Finally, I compelled my eyes to open and saw Ghost’s bright, furry and happy face poking beneath the curtain shielding my bunk from the rest of the RV.

I ran my hand over his forehead, scratching my nails against his ear. “Hey, sweetheart.” My voice came out as a weak croak, my throat dry and aching.

He licked my cheek again, and I looked around my bunk. The window at my side was filled with sunlight now. Somewhere in the midst of my fight, my green and pink blanket became tangled around my ankles at the bottom of my bunk, and one of the original three pillows beneath my head was missing.

…Now that my eyes were open, I felt the pain. The horrible, excruciating pain pounding my skull; no doubt the reason for my hellish nightmare. Whether the migraine was from lack of sleep or the drinks I drank to drown my sorrows and to forget horrible guys, I could not decide.

I groaned through gritted teeth and laid a hand on Ghost’s back. He curled at my side, in the crook of my arm, and I turned on my side, closing my eyes again. The light from the sun ached my head and eyes worse, so I nestled my face in Ghost’s fur to hide from it.

He smelled of green apple shampoo and wet dog; Devin and Stefan must have given him a bath, and he hadn’t been let outside to use the bathroom since. As soon as I had the strength to get up, I would take him on a walk around the venue or the nearest patch of grass.

The thud of my heart in my chest and Ghost’s rhythmic breathing, and the sound of familiar, soft voices from the living area supplied a wonderful distraction from my headache. I sighed into Ghost’s side. There was something soothing about the mix of sounds that made my eyes droop.

I was exhausted, I had to face the facts, and I needed to go back to sleep, even if it meant I had to step away from focusing on my problems for a few more hours. It would desperately be worth it to be rested for the rest of the day ahead, especially for the second attempt at the Havoc interview Josh set up.

…Damn him.

Drowsiness got the better of me, and I could no longer keep my eyes open. My headache melted away with every conscious thought and my tight grasp on reality. I was only vaguely aware of Ghost’s presence beside me; I even forgot all the damned tribulations.

I drifted for a few minutes at the most before a loud, happy burst of laughter echoed through the RV, jarring me back into existence and making me sit up as a random, panicked reflex. My sudden actions surprised Ghost and, with a final yelp, he sped out of my curtained haven. His paws padded away.

Nausea dropped into the pit of my stomach. No, no, this was a hangover, the nausea a tell-tale sign. A hangover of all things on a day like this! Possibly one of the worst days of my life! The night before I had not given a thought of the morning after when I started drinking, and now I didn’t want to face the world outside my bunk.

Devin hated my drinking, thus he would make the rest of the day a living hell for me. Then sometime I would have to face Max. He doesn’t love me. And Josh with the interview. Maybe Ronnie was right about all this. They expected me to eat, so that, too, was on the agenda despite my rolling stomach. I refused to go back to drugs to make myself feel better.

Walking Ghost seemed like the only task I could -- let alone wanted -- to stomach. Fresh air sounded great; yet the possibility of running into someone I knew did not. Today, I would rather die a thousand deaths than to feign happiness in a conversation with someone.

Especially Max.

I groaned again, threading my fingers through my hair. Max didn’t love me. He had no feelings for me, or, on the other hand, he liked me, but didn’t want to admit it because he was embarrassed of me. I didn’t know which was worse!

Suddenly, things became too much and a course of bile rose into my throat. I swallowed, but nothing happened; it only made me choke. Fighting my way from my blanket, I scrambled out of my bunk and launched across the tiny hallway threw the open door to the bathroom.

I left the light off -- the sun was able to streak in from the windows placed methodically in the hall to give visibility -- and fell to my knees on the tiles in front of the toilet. Plunging my head into the basin, I gagged one… twice…

But to no avail. My hands balled into fist on the cold floor. Now I needed to throw up, but couldn’t. “Perfect.” I sat backward on my ass. “Can today get any fucking better?” I draped my arms over the edge of the toilet and rested my forehead on top of them, sighing loudly.

A light knocking sounded from the hallway. In a brief smack of panic, I pictured Devin standing in the hall, watching me sitting in front of the toilet in the dark, looking absolutely horrible. I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for the barrage of words about to be thrown my way.

But the voice that spoke with a twang of an accent was not that of Devin. The first good thing to happen yet. “Juliet, are you okay? And why are you sitting in the dark?” Stefan flipped on the light switch, unaware of my pounding migraine.

I shielded my eyes in my arm, not appreciating the sudden burst of light. “I have a headache and my stomach is sick,” I whispered, my voice coming out hoarse and rough. “Can you please turn the light off?”

“No.” Stefan laughed, and the doorframe cracked as he rested his full weight against it. I felt his eyes wander over me. “How much did you drink last night to have this hell of a hangover, doll?”

How much did you drink last night? I couldn’t remember how much I drank… I couldn’t remember anything after the conversation with Max outside the pub. Everything went blurry and blank; memory stopped short at the dull ache in my heart caused by Max.

I was thankful for it. I didn’t want to remember the bad things, only how happy I had been when walking to the bar, and how gorgeous Max looked; how loud the boys’ laughter was and the hilarious look on Bryan’s face when he spotted the group of cute girls.

No way in hell I wanted to relive the pain from before, which had dulled to a twinge in the region of my chest. The post alcohol effect seemed to make it go away by a small degree.

Stefan rapped his knuckles on the wall again, and I raised my head to look at him for the first time. He had one hand braced on the left side of the doorframe, a button up black shirt on his torso and gray denim jeans. His hair hung in random shocks on his head, and he looked very well rested.

He obviously just woke up. But what time was it? If he had slept, then and it was way passed morning time. Shit. That meant it was almost time for Josh’s interview with me.

I wasn’t ready to answer questions about Max, yet. Maybe I could ask him not to ask personal questions. Or, I could use this interview to release my feelings and lash out at Max. Ha, stick the bastard right in his place.

I’m sick. I can’t go. “Can you give me aspirin and water?” I squinted into the light up at him. “I feel like absolute shit. Please? I will love you forever. Please, please?” I did my best to force a sweet look on my face, but something told me it failed epically.

Stefan moved his hair from his face and pushed away from the door frame. “Before I do, take a shower first.” He peered around the corner to the front, leaning out of the door as he did so. He turned back and frowned. “Craig and Max are doing a video with Devin, and I don’t want any of them seeing you right now.”

Craig and Max in the RV. No! Why? I already made it quite clear with myself that I was not ready to face Max again. He was virtually the last person I wanted to see, and he was sitting just a few feet away from the room I resided in.

Unfair, god dammit.

My face gave me away. It conveyed my true feelings on the subject, and Stefan slipped into the bathroom, closing the door behind him, with a concerned expression and plopped down on the floor beside me. One of his hands draped over my shoulder.

His eyebrows knitted together on his forehead. “Is everything alright?”

I shook my head, dropping my head into my hands and sucking in one, long shaking breath. How could I explain a situation that I didn’t even understand fully?

I chewed on my bottom lip. “Never mind, it’s… really nothing.” Nothing, my ass! The issue is everything, everything! Max doesn’t love me. “I’ll tell you later. I -- I don’t want to talk about it right now.”

“Okay.” Stefan placed a kiss on top of my head before rising and leaving me alone in the bathroom, still in the floor with my legs tucked underneath me and my knees inches from the toilet. And I looked like shit, if Stefan spoke the truth.

So much so, he wanted me to fix myself up before letting Devin, Max, and Craig see me. I must have looked as horrible as I felt…

Curious, I pushed myself into a wobbly standing position. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply again, the room spinning in wild circles around me, and twisted to face the mirror.

The girl starting back was definitely me… just a version of me I had not seen in a six months. Pale, corpse like skin, dark circles beneath hollow, almost lifeless eyes, unkempt hair, and a body that shook with each unsteady breath.

I still wore the clothes from yesterday, the shirt wrinkled and loose, hanging like a sack over my body, the jeans were just wrinkled and one leg was folded slightly. I sighed, pulling my fingers through the ends of my hair in an attempt to make them look a little more presentable.

Stefan was right. A shower would be the only thing to make me look more presentable at this point, and I most certainly didn’t want Devin seeing me like this again. Hives, freak outs, and getting ripped a new asshole was not worth it.

Alcohol made me resort back to the appearance of the Hell Year. If Devin gave a single glance at me when I looked like this, Warped would be over and the RV would be hauling ass back to Las Vegas where he could watch me as closely as he had before.

The sheltered life, Devin had a reason for it. Both alcohol and Ecstasy had the effect, whatever it may be, to make me look like I was a zombie from the living dead. Suddenly, all his concerns about me going to the club and drinking for the first time in eleven months came into check. He didn’t want me to go because he knew I would look like this.

Actually, the morning after the club, I looked not nearly this bad, only a little tired. But at the pub I drank quite a bit more than at Purgatory. The result was unattractive and horrid. The memories the sight of me brought were awful, and I hated it.

I realised, that maybe I looked like this again because of my loss of Max. My hopes being shattered across the sidewalk outside the pub and he didn’t even seem to notice. Maybe both the drink, and the loss made me look and feel like this. Yet the drink alone, was ok if I was still happy and not utterly heartbroken. Besides, it was Max that caused me to down plenty of shots to drown the pain anyway.

No way could I get as drunk as last night ever again. Devin meant too much to me to force him to see me in my old light.

I locked the bathroom door and stripped myself of all clothing until I was completely naked. Avoiding the mirror, I jumped into the shower, shut the glass door, and turned the shower on full blast. The scalding water blasted down from the head, sliding down my skin.

My hair soaked clean to the scalp and straightened out, falling, sopping wet, against my shoulder as I tilted my head backward and let my face be immersed in the shower spray. The hot water broke through the hung over fog in my brain.

Max doesn’t love me.

I scooped up a bottle of shampoo and squeezed the goopy liquid into the palm of my hand. I lathered it through my hair and scrubbed weakly, fingernails scraping against my head. After a few seconds of the procession, I gave up and rinsed off the suds.

No one ever will.

Sluggishly, I washed the rest of my body and did the usual maintenance with an air of exhaustion, my stomach doing things that surely were not normal the entire time. I dropped the sponge back to the shower seat across from me and turned so I was back under the downpour of water.

I’m only good as a sex pawn and a punching bag. Arm candy. That‘s all I am.

And with that final, devastating thought, I collapsed against the shower wall, my legs giving out beneath me. My chest heaved with a dry, burning sob, my eyes having yet no more tears to cry.

How dare he?! How dare… me…? It wasn’t Max’s fault…He was a man, a born bastard, but I did not have to buy into his undeniable good looks and charm.

I was at blame. Not Max, not Ronnie. They only treated me like shit because I allowed it, and I permitted Max to lead me on all the while, when I could have tucked tail and ran away whilst my heart was still in my chest instead of his unyielding grasp.

I couldn’t point the finger at Max, no matter how much I craved to do so.

How long I stood resting against the wall could not have been longer than a few minutes, but by the time I turned the shower off, I felt exhausted to the core. I wrapped a white towel around my chest and trudged to the door, and opened it just a small bit.

I craned my neck into the hallway and peered out into the front of the RV, the hand not holding my towel gripping the doorframe. In the living area, Craig and Max sat on the couch, Devin standing before him with his camera, and Stefan was at the fridge.

Grasping my towel firmly in place, I crept over to my bunk and grabbed my duffle bag from the floor where I left it yesterday morning. I tossed it into the bathroom before turning to seek out my bag of undergarments in the top bunk.

I stood on my tiptoes and reached my arm out. The top was visible in the left corner, if I could only stretch a little further…

“Fuck no!” Max said from across the room. “Piper did not deserve that.” An interview about me?

I early lost my footing as I stood further on my toes. Finally, my fingertips touched the rough fabric. I slung the beach bag down and flew back inside the bathroom, slamming the door behind me and pressing my back against it.

Stefan failed to mention the boys and Devin were recording a video with me as a subject. I didn’t want Max giving opinion about me, in something that all of the internet could see and make their own assumptions about.

Ha, I would never have another problem denying rumors of Max and I being engaged.

I glanced down at the ring still present on my hand. Until this second, it slipped my mind I even had it on, I had gotten so used to wearing it. I trailed to the sink, pulled the ring off, and laid it on the counter.

I turned my back on it and took my bags off the floor. After pulling on a bra and underwear, I grabbed the first things at the top of my duffle bag. My favorite plaid, button up shirt and gray tights. I dressed quickly, combed my hair, and faced the mirror.

My appearance was now presentable, if not a little tired, but Devin was used to seeing me like that, since insomnia hit me hard most every night.

I clenched my left hand into a loose fist. It felt naked without my fake engagement ring; no way could I leave it off all day. I shoved it back on my finger, grimacing, and exited the bathroom once more, hauling my bags with me.

I slung them back into their rightful places, atop the bunk.

“Jay, do you still want Tylenol and water?” Stefan asked, closing the fridge door. “Because they’re on the counter if you do.” He gestured to a spot a few feet apart from the couch.

I walked to where he pointed, where a glass of iced water and the bottle of Tylenol sat beside the stove. I glanced across at Stefan as I grabbed the white bottle. Pills ratted inside loudly. Stefan was watching me with inspecting eyes.

He saw me watching and pointed at the bottle, then the glass of water.

I twisted the bottle open. I tilted two pills into the palm of my hand and tossed them into my mouth. Placing the bottle down, I grabbed the water and swallowed the medicine swiftly, on one gulp.

Finished, I rested my hip against the counter and tilted my head to the side, cringing at the sunlight falling from the window near me. Stefan leaned right beside me.

“Do you feel better?” Stefan lowered his voice to a whisper, sending a shifty glance in Devin’s direction. “Does your head still hurt?”

“Yes.” I sipped the remainder of the water. “Oh, and you didn’t tell me this interview was about me.” I, too, kept my voice at a steady whisper, not wanting the others to hear our conversation.

Stefan glanced at the couch. “It’s not about you. They’re holding a conversation about random things and you just happened to come up as a brief subject.”

Either way, there was still talk of me, however brief it may have been. This conversation would be posted on Buzznet with Max talking about me, about who knows what! What if the kiss had come up as part of the subject involving me?

Desire to hear what they had to say about it was not something I had. I didn’t want to know Max’s opinion on the kiss or the chants or anything like that, not after the gob smacking epiphany I gathered.

He looked back at me and smiled. “Now they’re talking about the beer they’re drinking. Dregs.”

I glimpsed at the couch. Sure enough, Max held a bottle of beer in his hand, the bottom of the dark, brown glass resting against his knee. How was he not just as hung over as I was? Just the thought of beer touching my tongue made my stomach threaten to heave.

Craig waved quickly at me. “Good morning, Julie,” he greeted. “Leila told me to tell you hello, by the way.”

“Hi.” I waved twice, ignoring the glint of sun off Max’s ring. “I’ll have to tell Leila hello later. Do you think she’ll still be awake after my interview with Josh?”

Devin whipped the camera around to face me. I held up my hands, shielding me from the lens and yelled out, “No, no, I look awful! Don’t record me.” He didn’t listen, of course, and grinned.

I stuck out my tongue.

“Hey, Juliet.” Fucking hell. Max. “Did you sleep last night?” Oh, so now he was being considerate. How thoughtful of the big ass. He could have pretended to care when I was drinking to make myself feel better.

I pushed my wet bangs from my face. “A little bit.”

“Want a drink?” Max extended his arm out, holding his beer in my direction. Bile threatened to rush up into my mouth.

I snorted. “Is that all you do? Drink?”

The words spilled from my lips in a flood. They came before I could stop them, and for a second, I regretted the snide comment. But, the remembrance of the pain that ached my chest flashed through my head. The nightmare, the sobs, the breakdown in the shower.

He deserved to be put in his place. Even Max had to know it was wrong to lead someone on, someone who wanted a lot more then he did. Someone who would get her heart broken in the end of the charade.

Max set his bottle on the carpet at his feet and levelled an angry look at me. Obviously he did not enjoy my frankness. He could suck it up for all I cared. “What’s wrong with you?” He spat.

“Nothing,” I answered, shrugging

“Then stop being a bitch.”

A loud, shrill gasp filled the room around us. My body ceased all movement for several moments, until I realized that I had not made the sound, but it had come from beside me. I glanced at Devin, who looked absolutely mortified, as Stefan grabbed his hand and pulled him across the room to the dining table, away from the drama.

Devin slid into the table, keeping the camera pointed at us, and Stefan leaned against the wall beside him.

An awkward air fell like a thick blanket upon the RV, in which not even I could find my voice to say something. The shock was too great. Max had actually called me a bitch with Craig, Devin, and Stefan watching on!

Craig shifted uncomfortably. At his side, Ghost squirmed, moving around in a repeated circle until he gave up and climbed into Craig’s lap. He curled into a tight ball and heaved a sigh.

My shock subsided and an unquenchable bubbling of anger filled my stomach. “Stop being an alcoholic!” I retorted sharply. He called me a bitch! A bitch!

Max laughed dryly. “Yeah. Nice, Juliet,” he sneered. “You were drinking last night, too.”

There goes the flood gates.

I clasped my hands on the lip of the counter behind me. “Wow, you’ve proved me wrong again, Max.” Here. Finally. Just say it, Juliet. Say it! “I was mistaken in thinking you’ve changed over the passed year.”

Max rose slowly from the couch. I saw Craig reach out to grab him, but stopped midway and settled back into the cushions. He flashed a look of worry toward me, and, from my peripheral vision, I spotted Stefan tense and Devin clutched his arm.

Max stepped in front of me. “And what does that mean?”

“It means you are still the evil bastard who treated me like shit for four years!” I cried, my voice coming out louder than I anticipated. “You are still the same evil bastard I punched a year ago and pretending to love me will not change that!”

“Pretend to love you?” He sounded surprised, his mouth forming a little ‘o’ before he spoke, his lips crinkling.

“Yes!”

“Then let me prove you wrong again.” In a swift movement, Max took my face in his warm hands and pressed his lips to mine.

I smacked my hands into his chest and pushed him away, tears stinging my eyes.

He couldn’t stop himself! He loved playing with my heart and toying with my feelings, and he just kept kissing me! Did he think it would make me change my mind? Because that was not going to happen, no matter how hard he kissed me.

“Stop doing that,” I snapped.

“No,” he argued, grabbing me again, this time on the shoulders. “I will not stop kissing you! Because… because that kiss a year ago wasn’t a mistake, Piper. I meant it, like I meant that one.” He paused, his eyes searching over my flushed face.

I gave up trying to get away and slumped against the counter. I let the first tear slip down my cheek, a sob rising into my chest.

“I love you, and that was the only reason I ever said those horrible things about you. I was just trying to save my own ass.” His voice softened ever so slightly. I was trying to save my own ass. He said the same thing the morning we went jogging.

I never questioned what it meant before, but… What on earth did he suggest by saying that? He put me through hell to protect himself from something. That was the stupidest most selfish thing I had ever heard!

“Why did you treat me so badly?” I wailed. The tears began flowing in torrents down my cheeks and I stifled a sob by slapping the palm of my hand over my mouth.

“I loved you,” Max whispered, “and I didn’t want anyone -- Ronnie or Saskia -- to find out. And it… it scared me.”

I believed him. His voice, it dripped with sincere, and I truly understood that he was telling me the whole truth for the first time in four years. He loved me. I could not say that I condoned his behaviour toward me just because he wanted to keep his crush on me a secret.

But it made sense. All of it. Everything I had been wondering about since the first time Max ever said something cross and mean, and especially the things I questioned since the beginning of Warped.

Thank God.

Because my plans to hate him weren’t working out anyway.

I smiled through my tears. “Good, because I’m scared, too.” I slipped my hands on the back of his neck and--

“The one he has wet dreams about.”

“You are the last person Max would ever be mad at.”

“Max has a crush on you.”

“Maybe he just likes you.”

--Our lips collided for the first time with the understanding of pure, absolute love. Tendrils of electricity spiralled through every possible spot in my body, like every time we touched.

Because Max loved me. Me!

Around us, Devin, Stefan, and Craig let out loud, happy cheers, and Ghost flew into a flurry of barking and screaming, until Max and I pulled away and looked at each other.

I saw it in his sparkling, dancing eyes. He finally loved me.

X X X X

The Havoc music tent was set up between the Monster and Fuse tents. Several people were spread out along it, and six people were beneath it with cameras and books and merchandise from other tents around them. Four of the six were girls. Perky, young girls.

Among them were Josh and the pervert camera guy from yesterday, who name I still did not know. They were both flirting with the Havoc girls when I walked up with Ghost trailing behind me on his black leash.

Josh looked up first and spotted me where I stood in front of the table. He jumped from his chair, smacking his camera guy in the stomach to gain his attention as well.

I smiled. “I’m here for our interview, Josh.” My eyes roved over the group of girls. “Unless you and… him are too busy tricking girls into your woman eating trap. I can always go back to my bus--”

“Shut up, Oakes.” He snapped. Uh oh, someone wasn’t pretending to be nice to me today. Josh weaved his way out of the tent and away from the girls. His camera guy quickly followed, lugging a big black bag with him, joining me in the grass. “And his name is Texas.”

Texas? I decided not to comment on the ignorant name. If there was no fighting, my arrival back to the RV would come sooner than later, and I didn’t want to spend any unnecessary time with Josh and Texas when I could be with Max.

I bit back a full blown grin. Max! Ahhh…My stomach swirled again, and not from the nausea. He actually loved me.

Texas hoisted his camera from the large, bulky bag and levered it on his shoulder. He began fumbling with the complicated device, pressing things and cursing under his breath with very colorful languages.

Josh retrieved two microphones from the same bag. He handed one to me.

“You haven’t put up the other interviews from yesterday, have you?” I asked, taking the microphone and pulling it close to me.

Josh shook his head. “No.”

“Good, don’t. My answers will be different this time.”

Josh shot me a surprised glance, raising his eyebrows. But, he didn’t have time to question, because Texas said action as the red light on the camera came to life.

Josh flung himself into his professional stance. “We are here at Warped Tour 2009 with Piper Oakes of Buzznet’s popular web series, ‘Warped Tour or Bust!’. She will be answering all the burning questions that you at home want to know.”

He turned to me. “Piper, what do you have to say about the rumors surrounding you and Max Green of Escape the Fate?”

Unlike yesterday, I smiled at the question. “It depends on what rumor we’re addressing,” I answered. “No, Max and I are not engaged--”

The smile broke through and spread across my face.

“But we are together now.”