Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
Savvy
Like my professional composure, the lock on The Paper Crane’s bathroom had seen better days—scratched, tarnished, and barely holding it together. I pressed my forehead against the cool tile wall, counting breaths like Mom taught me when the world got too big. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Repeat until the room stops spinning.
Years of constructed walls were demolished by one pair of blue eyes.
The fluorescent light overhead hummed faintly, the only sound piercing the silence. Time dragged—thirty minutes? Sixty? Over an hour. I couldn’t tell. My phone sat untouched in my bag, notifications piling up. I didn’t dare look. What would I even say?
I leaned back against the wall, knees tucked to my chest, letting the chill of the tile seep through my clothes. Breathe, Savvy.
The door rattled .
“Open up, it’s us.” Ivy’s voice carried that edge she reserved for wedding-day meltdowns and mascara emergencies.
My hands shook as I lifted and flipped the lock. Ivy burst in first, a whirlwind of honey-blonde hair and concern, with Maddy behind her, pulling emergency tissues from her bag.
“What happened?” Maddy’s question carried the weight of five years of avoided conversations.
“Henry.” His name made my throat close. “My mark was Henry.”
“Seriously, Savvy,” Maddy said. “Henry … as in?—”
“As in, why I’m hiding in a bathroom instead of finishing a job? Yes.” I slid back down to the floor, my legs refusing to hold me up any longer. “Caroline hired me to break up with him.”
“Caroline who?” Maddy sat beside me, her shoulder pressed against mine. The familiar scent of her shampoo—the same Japanese cherry blossom she’d used since high school—wrapped around me like a security blanket.
“His girlfriend. Well, almost fiancée." I laughed, the sound closer to a sob. “He had a ring.”
“Oh, honey.” Ivy crouched in front of me, her face a mirror of that night five years ago when she’d found me crying on the bookstore floor. She’d stayed with me until sunrise. Then, we both curled up in the window seat while I waited for texts that never came.
“Tell us everything.” Maddy’s arm slid around my shoulders, pulling me closer. We’d perfected this formation years ago—me in the middle, Maddy solid and steady on one side, Ivy fierce and protective on the other. Through first heartbreaks and college finals, failed business plans and rebuilt dreams, this was our default setting. We were an unbreakable trio.
“I walked in, and he was ... there.” The words tumbled out between shaky breaths. “Sitting at my usual table, looking exactly the same but completely different.”
“Different, how?” Ivy’s hand found mine, her fingers cool against my palm.
“Sadder? Tired?” I closed my eyes, but his face was still there. “God, I actually picked up his ring from the floor. Who does that? Who picks up their ex’s engagement ring for someone else?”
“Someone who’s built a career out of giving others the closure she never got.” Maddy’s words hit hard. She’d been the one to say the hard truths we needed to hear.
“You know what the worst part is?” My voice cracked, barely above a whisper. “He looked relieved. He didn’t seem surprised when I told him his girlfriend wanted to break up. Just … relieved.”
“Like he’d been looking for a way out?” Ivy’s thumb traced circles on my hand like she’d done during thunderstorms when we were kids.
“Like someone had unlocked his cage, and he was free to fly.” I leaned my head against the wall, the pressure of it all settling over me. “It’s not that he didn’t want to marry her. It’s that he can’t seem to love anyone. Not her. Not me. I spent so much time wondering if I ever meant anything to him, and I think I have my answer. He’s not capable of loving anyone.”
“Hey.” Maddy’s voice adopted that calm she used when we started spiraling. “You don’t know what’s going on in his life. Remember what we promised after that night?”
“No more writing other people’s stories for them.” Ivy and I echoed the familiar mantra .
“Exactly.” Maddy squeezed my shoulder. “So, stop trying to write his.”
A knock on the door made us all jump. “Everything okay in there. You’ve been in there for over an hour?” the Paper Crane’s owner called out. “Do I need to call someone?”
“We’re good, Mrs. Clark!” Ivy called back. “Just a minor crisis of the heart.”
“Ah.” The understanding in her voice spoke volumes. “Take your time. I’ll put on some tea.”
“I’m fine, no time for tea.” I smoothed my blazer again, a nervous tell I thought I’d eliminated years ago. “I have two more clients today. I can do this.”
“Like hell you are.” Maddy’s voice sharpened. “You sent us a 911 text.”
“You can’t seriously be thinking about going back out there,” Ivy added. “Not after?—”
“I needed to make sure.” My voice cracked on the words. “That you’d still...”
“Hey.” Ivy’s arms wrapped around me. “We’re not going anywhere. Ever.”
“Not like him.” Maddy joined our huddle, her chin resting on my shoulder. “You’re stuck with us, Sav.”
I breathed in their familiar scents, finding reassurance in their presence. “Cork it’s so perfect and wrong. I don't want to remember how his hands shook, the way he takes his coffee, or how he smells like..." I hiccuped. "Like home."
“Okay.” Gloria started putting away wine glasses with purpose. “That’s enough public emotional processing for one evening. Maddy, Ivy—make sure she gets home okay.”
“On it,” Maddy said, slipping an arm around my waist.
Ivy flanked my other side. “We’ve got you, Sav.”
The cool night air hit my face as we stepped outside, the short walk to the bookstore stretching endlessly before me. Maddy and Ivy kept me steady, their quiet presence a lifeline as Main Street swam in and out of focus .
“Almost there,” Ivy murmured as we approached the familiar storefront, the ‘Closed’ sign glowing softly in the window.
They each grabbed an arm to help me up the stairs to my apartment above the shop, but I stopped shy of the door. “Okay, thanks, but I’ve got it from here.”
Maddy narrowed her eyes at me. “No way. We’re coming in.”
“I appreciate it, but I’m fine,” I insisted, tugging my arm free from Ivy’s grip. “I need to face plant into bed, and you two don’t need to babysit me for that.”
“You can barely walk straight,” Ivy countered, her voice sharp with worry.
“And yet, I can still walk. Trust me, I’ll text when I’m in bed. Go home.”
They exchanged glances—one of those silent best-friend arguments that don’t need words—before Maddy huffed, “Fine. But you better text.”
“I promise,” I said, fumbling for my keys.
“Goodnight, then,” Ivy said reluctantly as they backed down the stairs, still watching me like I might topple over at any second. “Call if you need anything. And I mean anything.”
I nodded, watching as they disappeared down the stairs and into the night, their voices fading as they walked back up Main Street. Leaning heavily against my door, I tried again to fit the key into the lock, the ghost of Henry’s relief-filled eyes haunting me.