Chapter 4 Ema pov:

Here's a rewritten and expanded version of your scene from Ema's point of view in Chapter

"Ema!"

My mom's voice echoed from the kitchen. "Did someone move into that new house close to ours?"

"Yes, mum!" I shouted from the living room, rolling my eyes.

"And you better come help me in this kitchen before your dad gets back from church!" she added sharply.

"I'm coming," I grumbled, dragging my feet toward the kitchen like I was being forced into a warzone.

I hated cooking. I hated how my mum always said, "Learn how to cook so your husband won't chase you away." If only she knew.

If only she knew that no man could ever chase me away, because I had no intention of marrying one.

Standing at the sink, cutting onions with all the enthusiasm of a zombie, I caught myself glancing outside.

Then I saw her.

The girl from the house next door.

She was outside, standing near the gate, scrolling through her phone. Her hair was in a messy bun, and the sunlight danced over her face like it had a crush on her too. I didn't even know her name yet, and I already felt something pull in my chest.

No. Hell no.

I forced myself to look back at the onions. I didn't want this. I didn't want to feel anything again.

Not after Sofia.

Technically, Sofia and I hadn't officially broken up. But in my heart, we were done. We hadn't talked properly in days, and when we did, it felt forced. Empty. Like I was clinging to a shadow. I kept trying to convince myself we were still something, but honestly? I felt single.

Alone.

And now... here was this new girl. Cute. Way cuter than I wanted to admit. There was something about her aura, her calmness. But no-I wasn't going to go down that road.

What if she's straight?

What if I catch feelings again and end up getting hurt again?

Why is this even my concern? I don't even like her... right?

I tried to laugh it off in my head. Tried to push her image away like smoke. But the truth was-my heart wasn't listening to logic.

I turned back to the pot, stirring it absentmindedly, steam blurring my vision slightly. Or maybe that was my emotions creeping up again. The ache. The confusion. The loneliness.

My fingers tightened around the spoon.

I can't afford to fall for another girl right now.

Not when I'm still trying to unlove someone who hasn't even officially left.

Not when I'm still healing-or pretending to.

I shook my head and told myself: Just focus on the food, Ema. Just cook. Breathe. Forget her. You don't even know her name.

But even as I told myself that, I caught one last glimpse of her through the window.

And for a split second, I swear she looked up.

Right at me.