But deep down, there’s a bigger fear.
What if she’s gone—and never comes back?
29
IVY
I stare at my laptop screen, cursor blinking on a blank page like it’s mocking me.
Nothing comes.
No dialogue. No tension. No brooding, obsessive male lead inspired by my favorite emotionally unavailable neighbor with commitment issues and excellent bone structure.
On Saturday, the writing was easy. My fingers flew over the keyboard. The story poured out of me like a confession.
Today? Nothing.
I sigh and lean back in my chair, rolling my neck once.
Maybe it’s because it’s Monday and my creative reserves are asleep.
Or maybe I’m just lying to myself.
I blow out a breath, scowling out the window at the empty yard below. This is what happens when a man decides he wantsspace.
I rock back in my chair. Everything feels… off. Too quiet. Too still.
I glance at the clock. Sebastian is atwork.
I know his schedule better than my own. Mondays he’s usually home by five. Tuesdays and Thursdays he’s gone until after seven. Wednesdays are lighter—shorter meetings, early exits, and he’s usually home by four. Fridays, he’s out of there by noon, unless an emergency arises.
The neighbor’s dog barks, startling me. I glance out the window, but don’t see anything. I file it as unimportant.
I drum my fingernails on the desk.
I just need proximity to Sebastian to fix what ails me.
That’ll ease my writer’s block.
I slipon my shoes and head down the street like I’m going for a perfectly normal walk that does not involve illegally entering my favorite emotionally constipated man’s house for emotional regulation purposes.
The deck feels familiar beneath my hands as I climb over the railing, muscle memory guiding me up and over like this is exactly where I belong.
I slip my shoes off, leaving them next to the door then ease the sliding door open. I immediately hear Drew’s strained voice.
“—No, Mom, that’s not what I said.”
I freeze, eyes and ears straining.
Drew has his phone pressed to his ear, his movements frenzied as he paces.
When his back is to me, I sneak inside, soundlessly closing the door. I watch as he runs a hand through his hair, then?—
Oh no.
I dive behind the couch just as his footsteps approachthe living room, flattening myself on the carpet like a raccoon caught mid-crime.
Drew paces past me, the phone pressed to his ear. “No, I’m not taking sides. I’m just saying Sebastian doesn’tneedadvice right now?—”
