Hold

in seven years, I slept soundly, uninterrupted by the anxiety of waiting for his key in the lock. It was a

m my newfound peace. My heart gave a familiar, reflexiv

leftovers I had packed away in the fridge. The scent of turkey

ile of mashed potatoes onto a plate. "I figured we cou

g in exaggerated appreciation. "Wow, Haven.

ed way, this was his attempt at an apology. In the past, this small gesture would have been enough to make m

I saw was the

or anything, Ewing," I said,

y turned to look at me, a deep frown creasing h

nter, picking up a small white box tied with a red ribbon

n' t

aid, his voice taking on a strained, imp

dairy. After seven years, he still didn' t know that. Seven years of me politely declining dessert, of me pickin

rable. It was a waste. A long, drawn-out mistake bu

nce beneath. "Look, Haven, I' m trying here. I said I was sorry. Bree even told me I should

tration. "Are we done with this little drama? I expec

screaming match ever could. I just looked at

I said, my voice quiet bu

l, upbeat pop song I' d never heard

ced by a gentle concern that made my stomach churn. "Hey,"

pa

t? Okay, don' t worry.

ce again a cold, dismissive mask. He didn' t even look at me. "We' ll

n he wa

being left behind. I just felt... nothing. The emotional tet

through my project files and packing up my personal belongings. On Monday

new, trendy restaurant downtown that I had been wanting to try for months. I' d asked Ewing to take me there for

I was goi

g glasses and happy chatter. I found a small table in the corner and ordered ev

en I s

aden with food-all of Bree' s favorites, I noted with a detached bitterness. I had spent years catering

, with a playful smile, held it up to Ewing' s lips. He l

was confident, sometimes to the point of arrogance. But in that moment, with Bree, he looked... bashful. It

n' t hear the words, but I knew what he was asking. He wanted to take a picture. A

shoulder. Then, her eyes flickered acr