Page 16 of More Than an Ex-Girlfriend

I pick up a third cookie and continue to stare at the door.

She cries out in pain, and I’m spurred into motion. Instead of walking out to the porch, I set the cookies on the table, then unlock the bolt and open my side of the adjoining door. Just like connected rooms in a hotel, there is a door on each side, and my side of her door doesn’t have a knob. Besides, it’s probably bolted.

So I knock.

After a few beats of silence, she calls out, “Coming. Just give me a sec.”

“Are you okay?”

“Mostly, but I need to put on...” She must’ve changed her mind about finishing that sentence, which leaves me with a giant question.

What is it that she doesn’t have on?

“Okay.” Leaning on the doorframe, I listen for footsteps.

“I’ll only be a minute.” She’s just on the other side of the door, then hurries away.

And for nearly a whole minute I try not to think about what she doesn’t have on.

She calls out again. “Coming.”

The bolt on her door clicks, and the door swings open. Lettie smiles, but the hesitation in her eyes tugs at my heart. It was never like this. We were friends before we dated, and talking to her was as much a part of my day as breathing.

Her brow furrows. “I’m sorry if I’m making too much noise. I was trying to move the couch and dragged it right over my toe.”

The wires between my mouth and my brain finally connect, and I say, “Ouch. Where do you want it? I can move it.”

The woman baked me cookies. I can at least be polite and gentlemanly.

She backs up. “Thanks, but I’m not sure where I want it. I’m seeing how it feels in different spots.” She leans around me and looks into my living room. “Where did you put yours? The floorplan is flipped, right?”

“Yeah. And I left the couch where the guys put it down. In front of the TV.” I’ve given zero thought to where furniture should go. Whoever put it down made that decision.

“Of course. Makes perfect sense.” The apples of her cheeks rise as she smiles. “I won’t turn down help if you’re willing.”

I nod. “Thanks for the cookies. They’re as good as I remember.”

She glances down at her bleeding toe, and it’s obvious her comment earlier wasn’t about a bandage. “I couldn’t sleep and figured that maybe cookies would make you hate me less.”

The words sting. I rub the back of my neck. “It’s working.”

I’m not ready to pick up where we left off. Dating her is out of the question, but hating people isn’t in my nature.

Besides, Lettie got me through the hardest, darkest time of my life. And for that, I’ll always be grateful. But it’s also what made the breakup so difficult to accept. She was my safe place. Until she wasn’t.

“You probably need to put something on that.” I nod to her toe.

“Yeah. I’ll do that. I just...” She spins around, looking at the stacks of boxes. “I’m not sure where the bathroom box ended up.”

I walk down the hall and poke my head into the half bath. “In here. At least I’m guessing the box labeled bathroom is the one you’re looking for.”

“Thank you.”

I rush out of the hall as she gets closer. The space is much too small, and there is zero chance she’d walk past without brushing against me. I am not mentally prepared for that. I might never be. “Take your time. I’m going to grab another cookie.”

Cookies are just my excuse to get away from her. Living here is going to be harder than I thought. Because not only is Lettie my neighbor, she’s also the person I’ve been chatting with for months, and I’m the only one who knows.

I’m not even sure what I’ll say when she messages next.

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