He was the best furry friend I could ask for.
My phone was returned a few hours after Mac dropped me off at the café. Kitty brought it to my door and said “that handsome businessman with the strong jaw” stopped by with it.
“He’s still here and asking to speak with you,” she added hopefully.
“Tell him he can speak to my lawyer,” I called back, voice muffled by all the blankets.
Kitty slid the phone under my door and didn’t mention Cade again.
By Tuesday—my fourth day of hiding from the world—word got out that I was back from my trip. More friends showed up at my door. More knocks went unanswered. More dread rose about what I was going to do now that the deal had fallen through and I couldn’t afford Whiskey’s surgery.
My cat was officially worried now, too. He’d taken to sitting on my head in bed and never moving more than a foot away. I knew it was bad when he took to grooming me.
But aside from bathroom breaks and getting the food Kitty left, I still couldn’t find the will to leave my blanket cocoon.
Three gentle raps on the door made Whiskey’s head perk up and me pause my crochet hook.
“I know you’re in there,” Kitty called softly, knocking again. “The cats can sense your sadness. They keep congregating at your door.”
I kept my mouth shut, set down the little blue narwhal I’d been crocheting, and wiggled onto my side to face away from the door.
Kitty paused before trying again. “Why don’t you join me downstairs? I’ve got a hot mocha and a whole tray of chocolate muffins with your name on them. Fresh out of the oven.”
My stomach growled embarrassingly loud, but I buried my face in my pillow instead of responding.
A long moment passed before she sighed. “I don’t care how handsome he is. No man is worth your tears, Ellie Belly.”
My chest squeezed painfully, and I pulled Whiskey close to cuddle against me.
She wasn’t wrong.
But I waited until she shuffled away from the door before picking up my crochet again.
The knocks grew more urgent Wednesday morning.
“Ellie!” Sadie called between relentless knocking. “Can you please open the door? I’m worried about you.”
I stared up at the yellowing ceiling, replaying the last morning with Cade over and over in my mind while my crochet sat untouched on the nightstand.
… It wasn’t helping.
Sadie took a break from knocking. “You missed last night’s PBA meeting, and we haven’t heard from you in the group chat.”
I still hadn’t turned my phone back on.
“I come bearing gifts,” she coaxed, her voice warm through the door. “I brought pints of gelato from Bruno’s to drown our sorrows in.”
My stomach betrayed me once again, grumbling loud and violently.
I patted it weakly.
“Seven different flavors, including a pickle-banana hybrid he created during my pregnancy cravings,” Sadie shared, before pausing. “…You probably won’t like that one.”
I snorted, making Whiskey jump. He crawled off my head to come curl against my side, and I hugged his fluffy body close.
Sadie wasn’t finished yet. “I found some pictures of your hotshot penthouse guy online and printed them out so we can burn them together. Hollis and I smeared them in Bear’s poop for extra effect. Now open the door!”
I was hiding in a dark attic, and she thought I wantedcompany?
