Chapter 5
For the past couple of hours, my dad and I had been knee-deep in cardboard boxes.
Tools scattered across the floor as we pieced together furniture one screw at a time.
The sound of a drill buzzed in the background, mixing with the faint sounds of the city coming through my balcony doors.
Sweat clung to my forehead, but I didn’t care; I was finally home.
Yesterday, I moved into my condo, and I couldn’t be more excited. It wasn’t just a new place; this was a fresh start for me since my divorce. Clean walls, high ceilings, and not a single memory of Jerome lurking in the corners is what I could now come home to.
The realtor who sold me this place had also helped me put my old house on the market. Signing those papers felt like closing a chapter I should’ve ended a long time ago. Jerome could pop up all he wanted now; it wouldn’t matter. That house wasn’t mine anymore. That life wasn’t mine anymore.
I took a moment to look around, letting my eyes soak in every detail of my new sanctuary.
It was a two-bedroom, two-bath nestled in Melville Row, one of the nicest parts of town.
It wasn’t too far from where my new bakery was located, which was perfect.
I knew I’d be spending a lot of time there to get it up and running to my liking.
It was near everything for me to have a more social lifestyle too.
There were wine bars, which I loved, cafes, restaurants, and more.
I barely had to drive if I didn’t need to.
What I love most about my unit is that it has an open floor plan with floor-to-ceiling windows that let natural sunlight pour in, making the marble floors shine like liquid glass.
The kitchen gleamed with the quartzite countertops and stainless steel appliances, a chef’s dream that still felt surreal to call mine.
But it was the double oven that really sold the place to me—a small but symbolic luxury that whispered, “You made it.” My favorite spot was the balcony off the living room.
Since I was on the twelfth floor, you could see the city’s skyline stretched out like a painting.
It wasn’t just a condo, it was a statement.
A promise to myself. A reminder that I deserved more than Jerome ever gave me, and a start of something new.
Shaking off thoughts of my past, my mind curled back to that night at the lounge. He routinely invaded my thoughts like an uninvited guest. It seemed I couldn’t shake Samir no matter how hard I tried.
The nerve of him. Cocky. Rude. So full of himself, and yet here I was, still thinking about a man I swore I’d never give the time of day to.
Of course, I thought he was handsome—too handsome, if I were being honest. Those dark eyes and alluring aura, and the way his voice dipped low when he spoke to me.
Ugh! I pressed my lips together, irritated at myself for even remembering those details.
“It’s coming together nicely, Pumpkin. I’m proud of you for making this decision.” My dad wiped his hands on his jeans, giving me a satisfied nod as he tightened the last screw on the coffee table.
I smiled, leaning back against the couch, letting the weight of his words sink in. “Thanks, Dad.”
I knew he didn't just mean me moving. He meant me moving on—rebuilding and reclaiming my peace. And for the first time in a long time, I actually believed it.
My dad glanced toward the kitchen, then clapped his hands together.
“All right! Time for a break.” He walked over to the fridge, pulled out two cold bottles of sparkling cider I’d stocked, and popped the tops like it was champagne.
Handing one to me, he lifted his bottle.
“To new beginnings,” he said, his voice low and steady, carrying the weight of everything we both knew but didn’t have to say.
“And leaving the past exactly where that trash belongs… Behind you.”
I tapped my bottle against his, my throat tightening as I held back tears. “To peace, happiness, and never settling for less again.”
We both took long swigs, and for the first time in years, the sip actually tasted like freedom.
“Okay, I’m going to get out of here. All of your furniture is put together. I think you can handle the unboxing. I need a shower and some food. Your mother made some lamb chops for dinner. For dessert, I’m having her.” He gave me a knowing smile, and I almost threw up my cider.
“Eww! Dad! You could’ve kept that last part to yourself.”
He chuckled, leaned his elbows on the counter, his face turning serious as he looked me dead in the eye. “But listen to me. Don’t let Jerome sniff his way back into your life. That man already showed you who he is. Don’t you dare let him convince you he’s changed when you know better.”
I swallowed hard, fiddling with the edge of my bottle. “I know.”
“Don’t waste your time entertaining old demons. Men like Jerome don’t change; they just get smarter at hiding their bullshit. And you deserve better than having to play detective in your own damn relationship.”
I let out a shaky laugh, blinking fast so the tears wouldn’t fall. “Dang, Dad. You didn’t have to read me like that.”
He reached over and squeezed my hand, his rough palm grounding me. “I’d rather read you now than watch you break later, Pumpkin.”
I nodded, letting his words settle deep inside of me. No matter how much my heart tried to cling to the familiar, I knew he was right. Jerome was my past, and everything about this moment was proof that I was stepping into something better.
After putting away the last box of clothes, I decided to wash the day off of me. A quick shower later, steam curled around me as I stepped out, wrapping myself in a plush robe. My skin was still warm, damp from the water, when I entered my bedroom.
Vibrating against the wood, my phone caught my attention.
“Unknown number” shown on the screen as I let the phone continue to vibrate.
My stomach dipped thinking it was Jerome.
Ever since I blocked his number, he’d been trying to find new ways to reach me.
I rolled my eyes and hit the red circle, shaking my head.
I wasn’t giving him that satisfaction. Just as I turned toward my closet, the phone rang again.
Same number. Persistent.
I hesitated, chewing my bottom lip. Something in me said to ignore it, but curiosity—or maybe even irritation—got the better of me. With a huff, I snatched the phone from the nightstand and swiped to answer.
“Hello?” My tone was sharp, ready for war. What I wasn’t prepared for was the low, deep voice that sliced through the line, and me.
“Good evening, Ms. Pierce. Is that how you answer your phone?”
The sound alone made my knees lock. My breath caught in my throat as recognition hit me. Samir. For a moment, I thought I’d imagined it. My chest tightened, heat creeping up my neck as his voice coated my ear like velvet over steel. I swallowed, clutching the phone tighter.
“How did you get my number?” I snapped, snappier than I meant to, but it was the only way to steady myself.
He chuckled lowly. “If I want something, I’ll find a way to get it.”
My lips parted, then pressed into a thin line. “Well, whatever you think you want from me, you can forget it. And stop calling my phone. Good day.”
I went to hang up, but his voice stopped me cold when he stated smoothly, “You sound different today. Softer. Must be the wine.”
My heart jumped. “Excuse me?”
“You’ve got that little lilt in your voice,” he continued, casual like he wasn’t undressing me with every word.
“Relaxed. Comfortable. I can picture you right now… robe tied loosely around that sexy body, skin still warm from a shower with that XXL wine you females like to drink.” He paused. “Am I wrong?”
My fingers tightened around the phone. “You’re bold. You know that?”
“Bold? Nah. Just honest. I don’t like wasting time with lies.”
I sucked my teeth, trying to ignore the shiver working its way down my spine. “Then let’s be honest. What do you want, Samir? Because clearly, it's something.”
Silence stretched, but not the uncomfortable kind. I could practically hear him smiling through the line.
“What I want, beautiful, is exactly what I told you the other night. To know you—the woman behind the sharp tongue and the dangerous smile. The one who thinks she can blow me off like I’m not used to getting what I want.”
My chest rose and fell harder than I wanted, and I was happy he wasn’t in front of me to see the effect he was having on me.
I forced out a laugh after containing my breathing pace.
“You also said… you wanted to fuck me again. So whatever little game you’re trying to play, save it for someone else.
What happened between us was only a one-time thing. You should have savored it.”
“Are you sure about that?” he asked in a deeper tone.
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. The silence on my end told on me, and he knew it.
“I’m hanging up, Samir.”
He chuckled, and even that sounded deep. Just as I was about to hang up on his ass, my other line beeped. Moving the phone from my ear, I saw that it was the security company that I use for my bakery. With my heart speeding up, I quickly switched over, praying my shop was okay.
“Hello?”
“Good evening. Is this Ms. Zanova Pierce?” the caller asked in a steady tone.
“Yes. Yes, it is. Did someone break into my shop?” I asked, already bracing myself for the worst.
“The alarm was set off. When the police arrived, they checked, and nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary.”
My chest loosened a fraction, but that unease didn’t let go. “So… it was a false alarm?” I pressed, trying to calm the storm in my stomach.
“That’s what it appears to be. But here’s the thing…” The man hesitated, his voice dropping just slightly, as if choosing his words carefully. “The officers reported that your back door was unlocked when they arrived. No damage to the lock, but it was wide open.”