She walked toward the other room.
Carisi picked up the folder and followed.
They spent the next hour going through every line.
Not romantically.
Not effortlessly.
They disagreed twice in the first ten minutes.
Carisi thought one part of the schedule was unrealistic.
Amanda thought he was assuming the worst before they had even tried.
He accused her of minimizing the strain.
She accused him of preparing objections instead of possibilities.
At one point, both stopped talking.
Years earlier, that silence might have become a wall.
Now Carisi looked at her and said, “We’re doing it again.”
Amanda knew exactly what he meant.
Turning fear into argument.
She nodded.
“Okay.
Start over.”
So they did.
That simple ability—to start over before pride became damage—had taken them years to learn.
It was also why their love had endured.
Carisi explained what worried him.
Amanda listened without preparing a defense.
Amanda explained what the opportunity meant to her.
Carisi listened without treating ambition as abandonment.
By the time they reached the last page, neither had won.
That was the point.
They had a plan.
Some compromises belonged to Amanda.
Some belonged to Carisi.
Some belonged to both.
And a few things they refused to compromise at all.
Amanda stared at those lines.
“You know this could still be hard.”
“Yeah.”
“I could hate it.”
“Then you change something.”
“You could hate it.”
“Then I tell you before I become unbearable.”
Amanda gave him a skeptical look.
“Before?”
“Fine.
Shortly after.”
She smiled.
Then her expression softened.
“You really thought I was leaving us behind.”
Carisi did not answer immediately.
He could have protected his pride.
Instead, he gave her what she had finally given him.
The truth before it became distance.
“For a minute, yeah.”
Amanda’s eyes dropped.
“I’m sorry.”
“I know.”
“No.”
She looked up.
