Intricacies of the heart
img img Intricacies of the heart img Chapter 7 Guards down
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Chapter 10 Disclosures img
Chapter 11 Unexpected guest img
Chapter 12 Past wrapped in thorns img
Chapter 13 Culinary dreams img
Chapter 14 Blueprints img
Chapter 15 Ember img
Chapter 16 The launch img
Chapter 17 Late night confession img
Chapter 18 Bridging gaps img
Chapter 19 The introduction img
Chapter 20 Unexpected guest img
Chapter 21 Resurfaced history img
Chapter 22 Family ties img
Chapter 23 Sanctuary img
Chapter 24 Broken ties img
Chapter 25 Mine to love img
Chapter 26 Whispers of the heart img
Chapter 27 Unlikely pair img
Chapter 28 Shadows of unanswered questions img
Chapter 29 Nostalgia img
Chapter 30 Heart-to-heart img
Chapter 31 Intoxicated img
Chapter 32 It all comes crashing down img
Chapter 33 Guilt with teeth img
Chapter 34 The coalition img
Chapter 35 Same book different cover img
Chapter 36 Peace offering img
Chapter 37 Unclouded perception img
Chapter 38 Discarded uncertainties img
Chapter 39 Soft lunch img
Chapter 40 Rhythm and routines img
Chapter 41 Unplanned girls night img
Chapter 42 The move img
Chapter 43 Sharing lives and spaces img
Chapter 44 Candied morning on a platter img
Chapter 45 Tickled pink img
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Chapter 7 Guards down

He didn't call the next day, or the day after that. At first, I told myself it was fine, I needed some space and maybe he did too. But by the fourth day, the silence was heavy. Every notification from my phone had me grabbing the device with ferocity. The disappointment when it was just a meme from Cherry or a client confirming a booking was heart shattering. I was slowly losing my damn mind.

I kept busy, cooking, cleaning, working myself to exhausting and pretending everything was peachy. But the quiet moments stretched too long. By the end of week, Cherry came over to my house to learn one of my recipes. She brought a bottle of wine which I was grateful for. After several hours passed, the recipe taught and completed, I couldn't hold my tongue any longer, I confessed all of it to Cherry. From the night I met Crest, to the anonymous private booking, to date and everything in between. I felt guilty for keeping her in the dark all these while.

Cherry was wide eyed by the time I was done. After the shock wore of, she finally sighed and said.

"First of all, why was I not kept in the loop this whole time?"

She playfully held her chest. "Maybe it's karma for keeping juicy secrets to yourself and sneaking around."

I rolled my eyes at how dramatic she was being. "I'm sorry, well now I've told you, pacify me, tell me what to do."

"Okay why exactly did you bite his head off for being a gentleman and offering you drop you home?"

I sighed, twirling a piece of my hair and said. "It's not that simple."

"Umm, it exactly is that simple Sasha."

I looked at one of the chairs that was missing a leg. "You don't understand, I didn't want him to see where I live, I panicked and didn't want him to think less of me when he saw."

Cherry was quiet for a long time. Then she said softly. "You think he cares? Look he's made an effort to get to know you, he's not going to take off running because you don't live in a castle."

That was the problem, not knowing what his expectations of me are, what he'd care about.

"I'd rather not find out what he thinks, while he's standing in my hallway, pretending not to notice the cracks."

Cherry just studied me, not with judgement, something gentler, a contemplative look.

"You've got this wall girl, thick as hell. But one day, someone's gonna want to climb it, and you're gonna have to let them."

I laughed. "Yeah? And what if they just use it as a view before they jump back down?"

She just reached over the counter and poured two glasses from the bottle of wine she brought, we drank in silence. Somewhere between the second and third glass, I admitted to myself that I missed him and decided I was going to be open with him. Damn the consequences. It scared me more than anything else.

It took me three nights to dial his number. What if he was done with me. I must have stared at the screen for an hour before pressing call. My hands were shaking slightly as I sat on the edge of my small bed, not from fear, exactly, but from the weight of what I was about to do. He answered on the second ring. For a moment, neither of us spoke. Then, quietly he spoke.

"Hey."

"Hey," I said. My voice sounded smaller than I wanted. "If you're home and not busy, and comfortable with me being in your house, is it okay if I come over?"

I was blabbing. I cursed at myself.

There was a pause, surprise, then softness. "Sure."

"Okay," I said. "Send me an address."

            
            

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