Page 26 of Death, Interrupted

Life without Joey, and without the constant second-guessing of what I said or did around him, turned out to be so much better. Less stressful and just…lighter. The days moved the way days should when I wasn’t managing someone else’s moods, and the background noise in my head quieted enough that even simple things like making coffee or answering emails felt normal again.

Even work settled back into what it should’ve always been for me: fun. As an editor, I had always loved the fact that I could work from home, or anywhere else, for that matter. I could sit on my couch with my laptop on my lap, and the TV on in the background. I had no co-workers bothering me, and my only interactions were chats with authors and other editors.

Joey had never respected any of that, and he said often that my job didn’t count because I wasn’t leaving the house to do it. Still, the truth was that while he clocked nine hours and came home finished, I usually logged six more after dinner or before sunrise, depending on deadlines and how clean the copy camein. I invoiced, tracked revisions, and delivered on dates that mattered to people who paid me for results. I didn’t argue with him about it because the argument always lasted longer than the point. Because I knew exactly what my workload looked like and didn’t need his approval to validate it, so I let his comments pass and saved my energy for the pages on my screen.

That day was the first time I worked without counting down to when I’d have to start dinner for someone who refused to cook, clean, or wash his own clothes. I wasn’t proud that I had stayed as long as I did. I should’ve stood up for myself, but I never did. Not until Sly came into my life.

Okay, to be fair, I still hadn’t stood up for myself. I basically just ran away when I got the opportunity. But after all the hurt Joey put me through, and with him not remembering me anyway, running was the only right thing to do.

It was ironic, really. I had read plenty of novels where women in bad relationships fought their way out. They empowered me, made me want to be just like them. But I never dared to.

Until now.

Chapter 10

Sly

I deserved an award. I was being a good boy and wasn’t stalking the woman who had stolen my heart the moment she stepped into my life unexpectedly.

Okay, fine. I managed not to stalk her for two full days.

That was my record. I still wanted to make sure she was okay. Even though she’d texted that she was home and doing fine, I wanted proof with my own eyes.

So I kept it low-key. The way you’re supposed to do it. Quiet and careful, no standing on sidewalkslike an idiot. Better than those five nights outside Joey’s place and the grocery store fiasco. This time, I was good at it. I was sure she hadn’t noticed me yet. She would’ve said something otherwise.

Thirteen days had passed since she moved her stuff out of Joey’s house and into her apartment. For eleven of them, I checked in from a distance, just to confirm she was living her life. She went out a few times, but mostly stayed in. It made me curious about her work. Maybe she was unemployed. That would’ve been fine. Maybe she was looking for a job, or she was just taking some time off.

Even if it didn’t seem that she had a nine-to-five, she didn’t look like she was struggling. She looked happier and in control. That counted for a lot, and it made me feel better about everything I put her through.

This morning, she left with her laptop under her arm and a bag hanging from her shoulder. It didn’t prove that she had a job, but maybe she worked from home. That would explain the quiet routine. I worked from home too. Perfect fit, if you asked me.

She drove into town, where she parked near the center, then walked to a coffee shop. She stayed there for four hours, typing on her laptop and occasionally writing down notes in her notebook. I sat across the street in another café and watched her work. She typed the whole time, laser-focused, and every so often, asmile cut through. She had three drinks, coffee or tea, hard to tell from here, a cupcake, then a sandwich. When she packed up, I stayed put. Respectful stalker, round two. I wanted proof I could stop when I chose to, and that I wasn’t being obsessive. I was just being concerned for her. There’s a difference, even if it’s thin.

I lingered another two hours in the coffee shop, played dumb games on my phone, and skimmed the comments on my latest video. By the fourth coffee and third slice of chocolate cake, I decided I should leave before my hands shook off my arms. The upside of all the caffeine and sugar intake was that I’d have enough energy for a solid livestream tonight. My followers liked me wired, and I never had to try hard to be funny. It just came naturally. (It took years of trauma to be this funny.)

“Sly?”

I froze and looked up into the grey eyes I’d been seeing every time I closed my eyes. Shit…she found me.

Sumner stood at my table with one arm across her stomach, bag hanging from her shoulder, and a soft, amused look that made my heart do a stupid little flutter.

“Sumner, hey.” I stood and stumbled over my chair’s leg because my body always forgot how to be casual in her presence.

She didn’t speak again for a moment but justwatched me carefully. “You’re not stalking me, are you?”

“No.”Liar. Don’t lie to her. How dare you? She doesn’t deserve to be lied to. “Yes.”

Her eyes narrowed, but she wasn’t upset or angry. She looked amused, which I hoped meant I wasn’t blowing it. Maybe this was the start of something new. Something more. God, I wanted to get to know her so fucking bad.

“Well, what is it? Yes or no?” she said.

“Yes,” I admitted. “But not in a creepy way. We live in the same city. You picked that coffee shop; I always come to this one. It’s hardly a coincidence. And you found me, not the other way around.”

You’re not making this any better, man. Maybe it’s best to just shut the fuck up. Justifying this won’t work.

“Right.” She pursed her lips, trying not to smile. “I was walking back to my car and saw your bike.”

“That could be anyone’s bike.”