“Counseling,” he said, placing the appointment card on the table like a token. “I started.” She scanned it, then met his eyes. “I’ll come,” she said. “But not to watch you perform progress.”
“To participate,” he said. They both surprised themselves by smiling—small, real, the kind that doesn’t ask for witnesses.
Outside, the bus hissed to a stop and opened its doors. Neither of them stood to board it. Not yet. Not today.
