Novels by Esther Dolapo

Chapter 1: The CastingThe cast list went up at 4:12 PM on a Tuesday, and I was already standing in front of it.Three years of small parts had gotten me here. Two seasons of assistant stage managing, one entire year of understudying a role I never got to play, and a hundred small humiliations I'd swallowed without complaint. Everyone in that building knew what I'd paid to be standing in front of this list.My name was at the top. Lead. Finally.And underneath it, in the second line, was a name I hadn't seen in two years.Elliot Vance.I read it three times before Priya appeared at my shoulder with a clipboard and a look I didn't appreciate."Surprise," she said."What is he doing here?""The original guy dropped out on Monday and Eliot was in the building picking up a set piece for the community theater, so Marcus cornered him in the hallway before he could get to the door." She shrugged. "He read it a

CHAPTER 3: DAY THREEI woke up warm.And that was the first thing I noticed — the warmth, then the weight of his arm across my waist, heavy and totally relaxed, like he'd put it there in his sleep and forgotten to take it back.Then I noticed that I'd been sleeping with my face pressed into his shoulder for what had to have been hours.I lay very still.The fire had burned down to embers, and gray light was coming through the window. Somewhere outside, the wind had stopped — actually stopped, for the first time in two days. The silence was so complete it felt like a sound.I could have moved; I should have.But I didn't.After a while, his breathing changed. Not awake exactly — that slow surfacing before waking. His arm tightened slightly around my waist, an automatic thing, and then he went completely still.He was awake.Neither of us said anything."You're awake," he said finally.

CHAPTER 2: DAY TWOI woke up to the sound of him swearing.Not loudly. Just a low, irritated "for the love of—" from the other room, followed by a thud and then silence.I got up, pulled the blanket around my shoulders, and went out to find him standing in front of the woodstove with his hands on his hips, staring at a thin curl of smoke coming out of the vent pipe."Problem?" I asked."Flue's blocked; snow packed into the cap overnight." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I'll have to go up on the roof.""You're not going up on the roof.""I'm not asking.""You're not going up on a snow-covered roof in a storm."He turned around. "But we don't have heat."We looked at each other.The cabin had gotten cold overnight. Cold enough that I could see my breath when I'd woken up. Cold enough that the water in the kettle on the counter had a skin of ice on top."Fine," I said. "But I'm

Chapter 1: Day OneThe cabin smelled like dust and old wood, and the first thing I thought when I walked in was that I should have stayed home.The second thing I thought was that I hadn't known Silas would be there.He was standing at the kitchen counter with a mug in his hand, wearing a sweater with the sleeves pushed up, and looking at me like I was the one who'd shown up unannounced. Which, to be fair, I had."You didn't say you were coming," I said."I didn't know you were."We stood there for a beat, and the cabin ticked and settled around us, the way old buildings do when they've been empty too long."Right," I said, and dropped my bag by the door.—The plan had been simple.Drive up Friday after work, spend Saturday boxing up the last of the family things—the photo albums, the dishes, the box of my father's tools my mother still couldn't bring herself to sort through —and drive home on

CHAPTER 1: EIGHT MONTHS The spare room was supposed to be temporary.That's what I told myself when Devon showed up at my door with two duffel bags and the expression of a man who'd run out of options. Six weeks, I said. Just until he found a place, he nodded, thanked me twice, and carried his bags down the hall.That was eight months ago.I'd stopped counting somewhere around month four. It didn't seem important anymore, and what mattered was the rhythm we'd fallen into — the way the apartment had quietly rearranged itself around two people instead of one.Devon was up before me every morning. I'd wake to the smell of coffee and find a mug already poured and waiting on the counter, fixed exactly the way I liked it. Two sugars, and no cream. He'd figured that out in the first week without asking.He did the dishes, and I did the laundry. He took the trash out on Tuesdays because he knew I always forgot, while I cooked on weekend

CHAPTER 3: THE ANSWERHe kissed me like he'd been waiting for years to do it, which — knowing Elias — he probably had.It wasn't rushed. That was the first thing I noticed. He kissed me the same way he did everything else: deliberately, with his full attention, like there was nowhere else in the world he'd rather be. One hand on my jaw, the other hand flat against the counter behind me, boxing me in without actually holding me there.I could have stepped away, but I didn't.When he finally pulled back, his forehead was still against mine and neither of us had said anything."You're shaking," he said."Adrenaline.""Sure.""Shut up."He smiled and kissed me again, and this time I got a hand in his hair and pulled him in properly. He made a sound against my mouth that I'd never heard from him before — low, and surprised, like he hadn't expected me to be the one pushing."Bedroom," I said.