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Flopping down on the bed, I shut off the light and try every trick I know. I stare at the ceiling to count sheep. Instead, I picture myself relaxing in an overstuffed chair in that ridiculous office filled with books. Clover’s leaning up against my chest reading some smutty scene to me out loud. I’m caressing her rounded belly filled with our child.
Shaking my head vigorously, I will the image away. It just makes me so fucking sad.
I swallow the lump in my throat. I’m trying so hard to honor her. Not stalk her. Give her space.
I’m so lonely, though. Not able to resist another minute, I fire up Instagram to see her face. Pull up Clover’s profile. Scroll through her feed to a post of her in Seattle at some restaurant. She’s with Ronni Miller and some women who look familiar but I can’t place. The caption reads, So lucky to be at the (soon to be) first Michelin star restaurant in Seattle!
Fuck, she’s stunning. Her long, black hair shines like glass. Full, red lips. Aqua eyes lined in black. Low-cut black sleeveless dress. Strappy high black sandals. Wide smile, like she doesn’t have a care in the world.
I guess she doesn’t. Clearly, she’s enjoying herself.
Enjoying her freedom.
To her, I’m just a blip on her radar.
What if Seth is right and she’s playing you?
No. I don’t believe it. I should leave well enough alone.
Except, that’s not in my nature.
And now Zed is back on the job.
You still have time to call it off.
Ignoring my inner voice—for now—I open up my texts. Nothing new. Open up her contact to find her…
Blocked???
What the fuck?
Wracking my brain, I try to figure out when I blocked her. I have no fucking clue.
I tap “Unblock” and hit confirm.
Minutes go by. I don’t know what I expected. Maybe a slew of text messages that were sent but never made it? For Clover to magically realize I’ve unblocked her?
God, this day couldn’t be more frustrating.
Except…
Before I can stop myself, I’m doing it. I’m dialing her number.
She picks up on the third ring. “Joar?“ She’s hesitant.
“JJ.“ My nickname rolls off my hoarse, strained voice.
The silence is thick. Muddy. Oppressive.
Clover breaks the silence. “Are you okay?”
“Uh…” I have to think about it. “No. Not really.”
I hear a bit of rustling. “Hang on, I’ll go somewhere private.”
“I’m bothering you. If this isn’t a good time…”
“It’s fine. I was just finishing a meeting with my new agent.” I hear her call out “goodbyes” to a few people. “Okay. I’m here.”
