Page 51 of Writing On The Wall

She delicately lifts a miniature owl statue from the shelf, a soft chuckle escaping her lips. “She used to complain endlessly about the flood of owl-themed gifts she received. She made one offhanded comment about finding them cute, and for the next thirty years, that’s all people gave her. She ended up donating most of them when she moved out, but it seems she held onto this one,” she muses, cradling the figurine gently in her hands.

“This room feels like a time capsule,” I remark as I move closer. The door creaks behind me, and we both instinctively freeze, our eyes locked on its slow movement until it clicks shut.

“Ethan…tell me you can open that door.”

I mean, being locked in here with her wouldn’t be the worst thing. It’s not the most romantic place, but at least she can’t run away when I try to talk to her.

Okay, that sounds creepy in hindsight. Let the record show that I in no way want to keep her anywhere against her will.

I rake my fingers through my beard as I stare at the door, the one that has no handle and opens inward. I start feeling my way over the paneling again inspecting it like a caveman, tapping and knocking on different spots and pretending to know what I’m doing.

Hell, we’re really stuck.

I turn to give Ivy the bad news, and maybe to capitalize on our moment alone. Hey, I’m just maximizing the opportunities as they present themselves. “It’s not opening.” I smile but I probably look like one of those Wallace and Gromit characters with their teeth bared.

Her breath catches, and she exhales in a series of short, panicked breaths. With every second, her eyes seem to grow bigger, and she shrinks back against the wall. She is freaking the heckout.

“Ivy, look at me. It’s gonna be okay. I have my phone, see?” I pull it out, wiggling it in front of her. “I’ll text Colton to comeopen the door. Everything’s fine.”

She shakes her head, fear sparking in her eyes. “I don’t like small spaces.” She runs her hands through her hair then shakes them out in front of her. She begins to pace, so I gently grasp her hands, setting them down over my chest.

“Hey. Can you look at me?” I nod reassuringly when she finally tips her head back to meet my gaze. “Good girl. Can you feel my heartbeat?”

“Mhmm.”

“Can you take a slow breath with me?”

We manage five slow inhales and exhales together, and she finally begins to breathe more calmly.

“You’re doing so great. I’m gonna text Colton, okay?”

“Yup,” she chokes out.

I leave her hands on me while I pull out my phone, feeling a little like an ass for relishing in the fact that she’s letting me help her. I hate that she’s freaking out. But the feeling of her hands against my chest causes my stomach to do that same swoopy thing it does when we argue.

“What if he’s busy?” She drops her hands to resume her pacing. “We could be stuck here forever.”

The door isn’t up to standard, and don’t doubt I could break it open with a hard shove of my shoulder. But it’d require a costly repair or a custom replacement.

She continues treading back and forth, muttering to herself, but at least she’s stopped hyperventilating. “I’m gonna die in here. I’ve never even left Texas! But I’m going to die. Single and alone.”

I quirk my head as her rambling continues. “First of all, you’re not going to die in here?—”

“You can’t be sure of that,” she snaps without looking up, her brows knitted tightly.

“Mmm…pretty confident, actually. Secondly, ouch. Hi, person who’s literally stuck in here with you.” I wave then gesture to myself. “So—not alone. Thirdly—and possibly most interestingly—I’ll remind you that you claimnotto be single.”

“I made that up, okay! Toby’s just a friend. It was a misunderstanding, and now I’m going to shrivel up from dehydration, and Gran will find me years from now, the tiny little raisin who lied to her.”

There’s so much in there that I want to unpack, things that make me ridiculously giddy—but her breathing is quickening again, so I put a pin in her confession.

I step in closer, cupping her face.

“Ivy June. Can you look at me?”

“Why are you being so nice to me?” She continues to ramble. “I’m struggling to match this…this new side of you with the grumpy, bossy Ethan I know.” Her hand flutters, gesturing up and down my body, making me grin stupidly.

I lean a fraction closer, closing in the distance between us with a deep inhale. My brows pull together while I try and figure out a way to explain those initial reactions to her. “Think of all the times I’ve been grumpy, Ivy. What were you doing each of those times?”

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