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DAVINA

“What are you doing here!?” Tish’s voice was shrill as she stood within the frame of my office door.

“I like myself better when I’m busy,” I told her with a faux grin, and she scoffed. Let’s just say she was not pleased to see me sitting in my office bright and early on a Monday morning.

“Davina, this isn’t busying yourself. This is distracting yourself.”

“Well, it’s better that than being at home with all the curtains drawn and bottles of wine in rotation,” I said, clicking through one of the folders with my computer mouse. I cut my eyes at her. She had her arms folded and a dip in her brow. “Wanna catch me up to speed?”

“I don’t like that you’re back. I was actually going to come see you tonight and bring Chinese food.”

“Well, how about you have the Chinese delivered here later, because it’s going to be a long day. We need to get the rebranding party squared away. I know the caterer we hired had a tight schedule, so let’s reach out to her about the menu, because we have a lot of vegans and she’s really good. We’ll work through the list for final touches and then get in touch with Kenji to go over the photos that’ll be on display for the slideshow.”

I purposely avoided my friend’s eyes as I clicked away on my keyboard.

After a few seconds of silence, Tish asked, “What is this really about, Davina?”

“It’s not about anything.” I forced a laugh to prove to her that I was fine, but she wasn’t buying it. Her eyes narrowed as she scanned me like paper in a Xerox machine.

“Are you really going to make me say it?”

I stopped typing with a sigh. “Say what?”

“You aren’t properly grieving, Vina. You’re just burying yourself with work to disassociate with your feelings. You’re my girl, and I love you, but I have to be honest. You need to take your ass back home and sit with your feelings. You lost your husband , Davina. Your life partner. That’s not something you just get over in months.”

I folded my arms right along with her. I wanted her to cave, to yield, but Tish was just like Octavia—stubborn as hell and always getting her way.

Or maybe I was just too damn soft.

When I realized I wouldn’t win the silent battle, I sucked my teeth and dropped my arms. “Well, since you want to be honest with me, I’m going to be completely honest with you. Everything in that house reminds me of Lew, and spending so much time there is killing me. It makes me want to sleep all day, to drink all day, and I thought I wanted the time off, but it’s not healthy for me to be there for hours staring at our pictures or sniffing his hoodies.” I paused, looking away. “And sometimes I—I get this feeling that I might—” I clamped my mouth shut, shaking my head.

“Might what?” she asked, her forehead creasing with concern.

“That I might fall into a really ugly depression that I won’t be able to pull myself out of. I feel like the walls are closing in, Tish. Like I can’t breathe sometimes.” She started to say something, but I raised a hand and said, “Yes, I’m still taking my medication. Look, if I stay there all day, no one will ever see me. I’ll never leave. I’ll turn into a shell of myself, just like I did when my daddy died.”

I dragged in a breath. Oh, God. Now I was bringing my dad into this. No, I couldn’t do that here. Not right now. Talking about Lewis was already hard enough.

Tish stared at me a beat longer before finally dropping her arms and breathing hard through her nose. She then walked into my office and spread her arms wide open. I stood up so I could step into them and hug her.

“Ugh. I love you, Vina,” she murmured over my shoulder. “I don’t agree that you should be working right now, but I get it.” She leaned back and clutched my upper arms. “But you have to promise me you’ll take breaks and that you’ll leave this office by seven this whole week.”

“Okay.” I laughed. “I will.”

“I mean it! Okay? And I’ll be checking on you every twenty minutes while you work, just to make sure you’re good. Got it?”

“All right, all right.” I fought a smile.

Tish gave me a thorough once-over before releasing my arms. She caught me up to speed, and I was grateful she let it go, but just because I promised her I’d leave work at seven, it didn’t mean I couldn’t take my work home with me.

Around seven o’clock, Tish reminded me that she was coming to my house with dinner after she changed into more comfortable clothes at home. I figured this would give me an hour or so to keep working.

As soon as I got home, I sat at the dining table and opened my laptop. I finished up an email with Kenji and confirmed photos for the slideshow that would be shown at the rebranding party, then responded to my primary investor, Chester Hughes, who was being surprisingly nice to me via email.

I figured that had something to do with Tish announcing my week off—well, more like my three days off. Normally, he was brief and dry, but in our recent emails he’d been very thorough and was signing off with words like take care and be well .

And just to make it clear, the only time he did that before was right after Lewis died. I guess I’d raked in his pity again. I hated pity, but not as much when it came from a billionaire investor who threw money at every inconvenience.

Once that was done, I decided to go over a few more of the new label designs for our rosewater face mist. As I did, my phone chimed on the table. I gave it a glance, ready to dismiss it—until I saw that familiar name again.

Deke.

Business Davina switched off, and my heart sped up a few notches, which was weird. I tried ignoring the feeling.

As if someone was watching, I played it cool by resting an elbow on top of the table, dropped my chin into my hand, and swiped my phone open to read his email.

From: Deke Bishop

To: Davina Klein-Roberts

7:34 p.m.

How you holding up?

Oh.

They were simple words, but enough to make me shift in my seat. Was he pitying me too? Was that what all the emails had been about?

I put my phone back down, then closed the lid of my laptop. After I poured myself a glass of water and took a few gulps, the doorbell rang.

“Hey, girl!” Tish sang when I swung the door open. She sauntered past me, and the savory scent of Chinese food drifted past my nose, making my stomach grumble.

I hadn’t eaten much that day, just a few nibbles of a sandwich Tish had ordered for lunch earlier. I’d mostly drunk tea to get by, but now I was starving.

“I’m glad you’re here.” I met her in the kitchen. “I’m hungry as hell.”

“Well, lucky for you I got the lo mein and the orange chicken—the owner even tossed in extra fortune cookies.”

“I’m positive that man is in love with you, Tish.” I grabbed plates and silverware. “Didn’t he give you free fried rice one time? And not the plain rice—it had shrimp in it. Name me one restaurant owner who gives away free shrimp.”

“Oh, he did do that, didn’t he?” She allowed the thought to marinate as I set the plates on the counter. “Well, anyway, a lot of people love me. Take Lorenzo, for example. He wants me to come to Virginia Beach with him. He claims it’s for work, but I think there might be something more to it.”

“ More as in?” I glanced at her as I opened one of the food containers. The steam rose from the greasy noodles and danced around my face. My stomach was practically caving in now.

“As in an engagement, girl!” she exclaimed.

“Oh, wait!” I paused, giving her my full attention. “You think so?”

“I do! It’s been two years for us now, and I swear I saw him scrolling through wedding rings on his phone a few weeks ago.”

“Aww, that’ll be nice, Tish. You should go with him to the beach, see if it’s actually more than what he says.” I plopped some noodles on my plate as Tish opened a new bottle of wine.

“I don’t know. We have so much to set up for the rebranding party, and I was supposed to work this Saturday to help out at the warehouse.”

I stopped loading my plate to penetrate her with my eyes. “Tisha Cole. I appreciate your devotion, I truly do, but life is too short. Go with Lorenzo. Spend some quality time with him. The warehouse can wait.”

I pressed my lips and fought the sudden tug in my chest. Talking about this made me miss Lewis, and to add fuel to the fire, my eyes traveled to one of the photos on the floating shelves.

We were standing hand in hand on the shore of Newport Beach. Lew wanted to learn how to surf but was so bad at it. I was surprisingly good. We were both sandy in the picture, with big white smiles and a grand turquoise ocean behind us.

“Hey.” A hand pressed to my back. Tish was standing closer. Her brown eyes searched mine as she asked, “You okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine.” I dropped my eyes to my plate and picked it up. “Just really hungry.” I carried the plate with me to the dining table and sat. Tish came my way with two empty wineglasses and the bottle of rosé, pouring both halfway.

After sliding the glass toward me, she said, “You can talk about Lewis at any time, Vina. I promise you I’m here to listen.”

“I know. I just feel like I’ve talked about him with you so much that you’re low-key sick of it.”

“Girl, shut up! I’m here for you no matter what.”

I could hardly see her, because my vision grew blurry. I blinked the tears away. “I know,” I murmured. “Thank you, Tish.”

“You know it, girl.”

As she prepared her food, I shuffled through mine with a fork, my appetite waning. I was relieved when she started talking about diamond cuts and silver or gold bands for her engagement ring. I didn’t want to talk about myself or Lew. It’d only depress me further. Plus, I was genuinely happy for Tish. She’d always wanted to get married.

When her phone rang, I was even more relieved, because it was Lorenzo calling, which created more of a distraction for her. She was worried about me, I could tell, but I didn’t want her to be. I was fine.

Tish went to the deck, and I took a few bites of food, guzzled down the rest of my wine, then went to the kitchen for my phone. I read Deke’s email again, then surfed through our previous emails.

They were bordering on flirtatious. I wasn’t sure I liked it. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to talk to Deke ... I just didn’t want to send him the wrong signal.

But I admit it was comforting getting his emails. It felt good to chat with someone so late at night who wasn’t insisting that I get some rest. That’s all my sister and Tish did.

You need your rest, Davina!

Try to sleep, Vina!

It seemed neither Deke nor I could sleep at night—like we both had a lot on our minds after the clock struck twelve.

I scrolled back down and sent him a response.

Hey! Definitely hanging in there. Went back to work today actually. Tish thinks I’ve lost my mind and you probably will too. But I need work, you know? Don’t want to spiral too much and keeping busy helps. Thoughtful of you to check in. But why do you keep checking on me?

I waited for his response as I poured another glass of wine and carried it with me to the couch. Just like before, my heart sped up a notch when my phone chimed again and another email from him popped up.

Nothing wrong with working. Everyone copes differently. Can’t say I blame you for wanting to busy yourself. And about me checking in. You want the truth?

I couldn’t help smiling at his question.

I always want the truth, I returned.

Well the truth is that unlike 99% of the people I know, I actually like talking to you. You’re mad cool, D.

Okay. I was smiling again. How was he so good at that?

Are you only saying that because you feel sorry for me right now?

No. I’m keeping it . Congrats on making it into my 1%.

I bit back a grin, then shook my head as a hopeless sigh escaped me. I had a feeling he was going to do that—make me feel special, singled out, important .

And though any woman in the world would’ve been thrilled about a famous athlete flirting with her by email, I just couldn’t be that woman right now.

Thanks for including me. I’m honored.

I stopped typing, hovering over the Send button.

No. That couldn’t be all. I did the dry-and-short thing last time.

Deke was a good guy. I needed to be honest with him now before it was too late, so I continued my email:

But I feel like I should let you know I’m a mess and am still grieving my husband. I don’t want to lead you on or anything. I’d love to keep talking to you and we can keep checking in with each other but can it be as friends? Just friends?

I bit into my bottom lip and pressed Send. Had to rip it off like a Band-Aid. If I didn’t do it now, I never would.

Two hours passed. I cleaned up with Tish before she left, and there was still no response from Deke. I changed into pajamas and mentally debated about whether it was the right thing to tell him. That email was a little rude ... but it was true, and I didn’t know how else to explain it.

Around eleven o’clock that night, there was still no response.

I sulked on the couch, stealing glances at my phone as the TV played an episode of Martin . Maybe I was too harsh. Octavia always said I was too direct with text messages. She’d say if she didn’t know me personally, she would never be able to tell if I was joking via text.

I picked up my phone and read my email again.

I cringed.

I mean, who italicized the words just friends ? That took effort and placed way too much emphasis on the matter. I groaned, knowing damn well I wasn’t going to hear from him again. I wouldn’t blame him.

Toward midnight, I crawled into bed. I sank beneath the comforter, nestled my head into the pillow, and forced my eyes shut.

Sleep wasn’t going to happen. This was a known fact. My sleep schedule was so jacked up now, but I was going to try anyway.

As I turned onto my back, my phone buzzed, and I gasped as I scrambled to pick it up. I opened the email with a smile, but that smile slowly slipped away when I read his response.

You got it, D. Just friends.

He’d italicized the words too.

Okay, good.

That’s exactly what I’d wanted him to say ... so why the hell was I so disappointed with that?