She should be angry about that. She should feel cheapened or jealous or any of the things her mother's voice in her head said she should feel. But standing in her shower with soap running over her body and steam curling around her, all Misato felt was relief.
She didn't have to pretend anymore. She didn't have to maintain distance or professional boundaries or any of the walls she'd built between herself and the people she led. Jace had looked at her like she was worth wanting, and he knew about the others, and he wanted her anyway, and that was terrifying and freeing in equal measure.
