Chapter 13 February 21, 2025
-Sadie-
The study door creaked, breaking the silence and making Sadie grimace as she pushed it open.
Riley had gone ahead, disappearing through the gap that had been just wide enough for him to come and go as he pleased.
By the time Sadie had crossed the threshold, the dog had already flopped onto the carpet by the fireplace.
Corbyn was at his desk, and she noticed that he had stopped writing, his pen hovering just above the page. Neither of them spoke for a moment, and she could feel the tension lingering even after yesterday’s conversation.
“Morning,” Sadie said, her voice neutral as she crossed to her usual chair across from him.
“Morning,” Corbyn replied, not quite meeting her eyes.
Sadie set her bag down, unpacked it slowly to buy herself a beat to gauge the atmosphere.
Silence stretched between them, and she could feel Corbyn’s penetrating gaze without even looking up.
They were no longer quite enemies, but they also weren’t friends.
It seemed neither was entirely sure how to proceed with this tentative truce.
Corbyn broke the quiet with a rough throat-clearing.
“I changed a few things,” he said abruptly as he slid a stack of papers her way. “The warehouse scene, mostly.”
Looking at the pages, surprise flickered through her as she noted the neat annotations in the margins.
Throughout the manuscript, Corbyn had highlighted sections with small notes: Expanded this as you suggested and Reworked dialogue here—see if it addresses your concern, and even one that said, You were right about this transition.
“Oh,” she said, thumbing through the pages. “That’s… thorough.”
“Don’t sound so shocked,” he said, a hint of his usual dryness returning without the former edge. “I do occasionally listen.”
A small smile tugged at Sadie’s lips, and she teased, “I’ve seen little evidence of that so far.”
“Then consider this Exhibit A,” Corbyn replied, the corner of his mouth quirking upward slightly.
The tension had eased a fraction, and Sadie leaned back in the chair to review the changes. Corbyn incorporated many of her suggestions, sometimes with his own twist, and her slight smile only grew the more she read.
“Don’t look so smug, Reed,” he said, drawing a soft chuckle from her.
“I’m not smug, just… pleasantly surprised.”
“Pleasantly surprised that I can be a reasonable human being, or pleasantly surprised that you were right?” he shot back, a playful glint in his eye.
Sadie glanced up briefly, her smile widening, and teased, “Can it be both?”
He chuckled softly, shaking his head.
“I suppose that’s fair.”
When she looked up again and met his eyes, her breath caught.
Instead of his usual scowl, there was a real smile.
It was small and tentative, but the way his eyes seemed to light up told her it was honest. She had to force herself to look away, the faint amusement flickering in his eyes, making it difficult to focus.
Giving herself a little mental shake, she went back to her reading.
Corbyn resumed his writing, and the sound of his pen scratching against the paper filled the study.
They continued to work that way for the next several minutes until Sadie came to a scene that caused a crease to form between her brows.
Looking up, she watched him write for a moment, trying to work up the courage to test this newly minted peace treaty. She knew he was proud of the work he had done, and she didn’t want to cause a setback. She felt her shoulders tense in anticipation of his reaction as she took a breath.
“I think spacing out this reveal sequence might make it hit harder,” Sadie said, her voice steady but careful.
Corbyn’s frame went rigid for a split second. It dawned on her then that this was a scene he had spent weeks crafting before her arrival, and she may very well have stumbled on to a hornet’s nest.
“What’s the issue now?” Corbyn asked, his tone taking on an all too familiar edge.
“There’s no issue,” Sadie told him, keeping her tone as light as possible. “The writing’s tight and really strong, but I think readers need a breather to digest one jolt before we hit them with the next.”
Corbyn’s brow furrowed. “This scene’s the backbone of the whole second act. I’ve torn it apart and rebuilt it three times, and it’s finally right.”
“The scene’s got real weight,” she said, nodding to his effort. She needed to get him back on her side, to try to see things from another perspective. “I’m just saying it might be good to reconsider its timing.”
“It stays.”
The words were clipped, and he immediately returned to his writing. The dismissal hit harder than an outright argument. This was his way of shutting down the conversation entirely rather than engaging, and Sadie felt herself coming close to snapping.
“Corbyn, you’re not even listening…”
“I’ve already thought it over, Reed. There’s nothing to listen to.”
The words felt like a slap to the face, and Sadie felt her cheeks burn.
It wasn’t shame or embarrassment, but anger.
She couldn’t deny that this pattern felt all too familiar.
With Nate, there had always been a brief period of harmony before the inevitable crash.
She had spent years walking on eggshells in her personal life, and she refused to let it happen in her professional life as well.
“This is exactly what we talked about yesterday,” she said, standing and placing the stack of papers she had been reading on the desk. “You’re shutting down instead of engaging. You promised things would be different.”
He looked up at her, and she saw his eyes narrow slightly, spine straightening as he prepared for the argument.
“Just because we agreed to be more civil doesn’t mean I must agree with every suggestion you make,” he replied. She noted instantly the coolness of his tone. “I am allowed to disagree with you, as this is still, in fact, my book.”
“But you didn’t just disagree, did you?” she fired back, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “You simply dismissed what I had to say. We are supposed to be partners, or did you already forget that?”
He stood then, and she could see the shift in his demeanor. She wasn’t the only one losing her temper. She watched him stand, his eyes locked on hers as he leaned forward and braced his hands on the desk.
“I meant every word I said yesterday,” he warned, his voice taking on a darker tone she hadn’t heard before. “But it does not give you carte blanche to…”
“To what? Do my job?” Sadie cut in, mirroring his position as she leaned forward as well. “If we’re going to make this work, we can’t fall back into this dynamic every time we disagree. You need to trust me enough to hear me out.”
“Trust works both ways. You could try trusting that I know what I’m doing with my own story!”
They stood there with their eyes locked, neither willing to back down. Sadie could feel a mixture of frustration and something else coursing through her. Something that had more to do with his proximity and the intensity in those blue eyes than with their disagreement about plot structure.
Before she could formulate a response that wouldn’t escalate things further, Riley rose from his spot by the fire with a dramatic groan.
The Irish Wolfhound padded over, tail swishing, and shoved his massive head underneath Sadie’s arm and onto the pages they were arguing over.
It caused several to flutter to the floor, and he looked up at them with a soft whine that seemed to say, Enough, already!
The absurdity of the giant dog’s timing broke the tension, and Sadie couldn’t suppress the laugh that escaped her lips.
“Impeccable timing, as always,” Corbyn muttered, though his lips twitched with reluctant amusement as he tried to extricate the pages from beneath Riley’s chin. “Some guard dog you are. You’re supposed to take my side.”
“Clearly, he’s Team Compromise.” Sadie reached out to scratch behind Riley’s ears. “Wise beyond his years.”
“Traitor,” Corbyn told the dog, shaking his head. To Sadie, he added with a hint of resignation, “Go on, then. Make your case before he drools on the entire manuscript.”
Sadie straightened, giving Riley one more scratch before meeting Corbyn’s eyes once more.
“Actually, I have an idea that might solve both our concerns. May I?” she asked, gesturing toward the blank paper on his desk.
Corbyn pushed a sheet toward her, eyebrows raised in silent question.
“What if,” Sadie began, sketching out a quick diagram, “instead of moving the reveal, you recontextualize it? What if he has this epiphany during the course of a conversation? With his sister, perhaps?”
Corbyn leaned forward again, and Sadie knew she had his full attention.
“Go on.”
“Shaw’s realization that he’s been betrayed by someone he trusted is the heart of the scene,” Sadie explained, glancing up to gauge his reaction.
His brow was still furrowed, but his expression was thoughtful instead of angry.
“What if, instead of being alone in his apartment and looking at evidence, he’s talking to his sister about something seemingly unrelated, and she inadvertently gives him the piece he needs? ”
“What about a gallery opening?” Corbyn countered, straightening and crossing his arms over his chest. “His sister’s an art curator.
Evening setting, public but intimate. White wine, pretentious conversations.
She’d be distracted with managing the event, and might mention something about an acquaintance without thinking. ”
“Yes,” Sadie nodded eagerly, her anger subsiding.
She could picture it taking shape in her head: stark white walls covered with paintings, lights angled just so, a low hum of fancy voices tossing around words like brushwork and symbolism.
“And, because it’s such a public setting, Shaw’s stuck holding it together.
He’s hit with this gut-punch of a realization, but he can’t crack, not with so much on the line for her. ”
“What if,” Corbyn grinned, and his eyes came alive as he looked at her, “she catches it anyway? His twitch or whatever, even though he’s trying to play it cool. She could drag him off to some cramped back office, away from the suits, and push for an explanation.”
The unguarded grin on his face caught her completely off guard, and it took a minute for her to realize she was staring.
He was full of life and completely engaged, which caused an unfamiliar fluttering in her chest. Clearing her throat, she looked down at the pages on the desk, trying to recover her composure.
“Yeah, I think that’s it,” she murmured, her voice breathier than she would have liked.
Corbyn sat back in his chair, and she could feel him watching her.
Slowly, she returned to her own seat, forcing herself to meet his eyes once more.
The grin was gone, but it had been replaced by something softer, almost searching.
He had been indifferent to her opinion, but she had also let her own insecurities get the better of her.
“I’m sorry if I came on a bit strong,” she confessed, petting Riley, who had placed his head in her lap. “Having my thoughts dismissed… it’s part of my baggage, but you shouldn’t have to be held accountable for that.”
“It’s no secret I can be a stubborn arse, Reed,” he admitted after a moment. “But we did agree to be partners, and I shouldn’t have treated you like an adversary.”
A comfortable silence settled between them, markedly different from the tense quiet after their previous arguments. Corbyn gathered the papers they had been working on, looking over their notes once more. She watched him lean back in his chair, lips pursing as he took everything into consideration.
“I’ll draft this tonight,” he offered after a moment. “I’ll have something for you to review tomorrow.”
“I look forward to it,” Sadie replied, standing to head to the sofa where the pages she had been working on yesterday waited for her on the coffee table. Riley, now lacking her attention, wandered over to Corbyn and nudged his arm with his nose.
“He needs a walk,” Corbyn chuckled, rising from his chair and flexing his left hand. She had noticed he tended to clench that hand when under stress, likely adding to any discomfort. “We’ve been at this longer than I realized.”
“Time flies when you’re locked in a creative disagreement,” Sadie said with a small smile, looking up at him from the sofa.
Corbyn’s mouth quirked in that almost smile, and he conceded, “Indeed.” She watched as uncertainty suddenly crossed his features before he added, “Would you… like to join us? There’s a path through the orchard that’s pleasant this time of day.”
The invitation surprised Sadie. Usually, he left for walks without even looking her way.
It was a small thing, this social overture, but significant coming from a man who had initially resented her presence in his home.
That flutter in her chest was back, and a slightly shy smile formed on her lips.
“I’d like that,” she said simply, standing to follow him out of the study.
Later, as they walked the orchard path with Riley, their conversation flowed more easily than before. They discussed the book, but also the grounds, Riley’s ridiculous squirrel obsession, and various other topics.
It was small talk, but for two people who had spent so much time trying to find common ground, it felt like a bridge being built… one unremarkable exchange at a time.