“You were pissed. I would be pissed.”

“I’m still not sure what the hell to think. I don’t care about Yvonne,” he says quickly. “I swear, it’s not about her. I don’t care what she does or with who.”

“It’s that your dad betrayed you.”

He moves onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. “It’s just not how I planned for tonight to go.”

“Well, I don’t think either of us did.”

His head shifts, looking at me with a sad smile. “You said you had news? Something that you wanted to talk about?”

My throat goes dry and nerves take over. I don’t know if I should say anything, but I’m not quite sure how to get out of it either. I feel like I’ve lied to Grayson enough and . . . maybe he will be happy? I mean, it’s good news. I’m cleared to drive, and we can travel or ride bikes.

At least I’ll start there.

“Are you sure you want to talk about this?” I ask. “You’ve had a crazy night.”

He smiles, his hand cupping my face. “I could use some good news, don’t you think?”

Right. Yes, we both could. I mean, I’ve only been spending the last few weeks dreading this and now I’ve sort of stepped into it. I have it all mapped out, how to make it clear to him that this changes nothing except that it’s a choice for me. One that I’m making without any fear.

“It doesn’t have to be today, the news, I mean, we can wait.”

“Jessica, I want to know.”

All right. Here it goes. “So, I went to the doctor, and they gave me the news that I’m cleared to drive again. It was really unexpected, but the headaches have really lessened, and I can’t remember the last time I got dizzy. The doctor thinks that my brain has healed a lot. I’m not stuttering much . . .” I trial off, feeling the emotions getting strong.

“So you can drive?”

I nod. “I can.”

“That’s great.” He leans in, kissing me. “That is good news. I’m glad that you got cleared.”

Relief like I can’t express fills me. He’s taking it so well. I smile, feeling like telling him the rest is the right thing. “He said I could fly too. That I’m free to go back to normal, and . . .”

Grayson shoves the covers off and gets to his feet. “You’re allowed to fly? So, you can what . . . leave?”

I sit up, pulling the blanket around me. “Yes . . . but—I—”

“Great. You thought this was what I wanted to hear? That tonight you’d let me know you’re leaving?” He pushes his legs through his pants with angry movements.

“I didn’t say that. I just said I’m cleared to fly not that—”