Chapter 4

Silas was about to say something else when his phone rang and cut him off. I caught a glimpse of the screen. It was Natalie.

I could hear her crying on the other end, saying something I couldn't make out while Silas scrambled to comfort her. I stood there and watched him.

When he hung up, his face carried a trace of apology. "Natalie needs me right now. You—"

I nodded and finished the sentence for him, "I'll get home on my own. You don't have to see me off. Go be with her."

Silas looked taken aback, like he couldn't figure out why I was being so agreeable. But he didn't have time to think about it. He told me I was being good, and then he was gone.

I watched his back as he rushed off to be with another woman. Then, I lowered my head and started the slow walk home alone. In a love story with no future, maybe it was time to walk away.

Back at the apartment, I pulled out a suitcase that had been collecting dust for ages. This was supposed to be my home, but the things that actually belonged to me were pitiful. The upside was that packing didn't take long.

But Mom's manuscript was gone.

They were her old perfume formulas, the only thing she ever left me. I tore through the suitcase, the closet, and under the bed, but they were nowhere.

I always kept it at the bottom of the cabinet, but Silas had found it and pulled it out the week before.

I called him. The line rang for a long time before he picked up.

"Yeah?" His voice was lazy, and a woman was laughing somewhere behind him.

"Where's the manuscript?"

"I've got it. Come pick it up. I'm at Conroy's."

I rushed over to the restaurant. Silas and Natalie were sitting across from each other, dishes spread between them, and Mom's manuscript lay open on the table next to them.

Natalie was photographing it page by page on her phone. She didn't flinch when she saw me walk in. She just smiled.

"Oh, there you are. This thing is fascinating. I've been studying it."

My head buzzed, and I lunged for the table. "Give it back!"

Natalie flinched as if my sudden movement had scared her, and she shrank into Silas' arms. He wrapped an arm around her and frowned at me.

"Natalie's a perfumer too. She thought your mother's notes were inspiring and wanted to reference them."

"My mother left that to me. Taking it without asking is stealing."

I reached for the manuscript. But Natalie snatched it away first, holding it behind her back, and tilted her head at me.

"Willa, how about this?" she said with a smile. "Get on your knees and bark like a dog, and if I'm in a good enough mood, I'll give it back."

I froze, then looked helplessly at Silas. He sat beside Natalie with his arm loosely around her, eyes lowered, refusing to look at me.

Natalie flipped through the manuscript. "I never go back on my word."

It was the only thing Mom ever left me. The room went quiet for a few seconds.

My knees bent, and I lowered myself to the floor. Then, barely audible, I let out a single, small bark.

"Oh, my God, you actually did it!" Natalie burst out laughing.

I stared at the manuscript in her hands, desperate. When she finally stopped laughing, she lifted the manuscript in front of her face and tore it to shreds.

"I meant it when I said I didn't lie. But then again, you're a dog, so why would I keep a promise to you?"

Whatever was left of my self-control snapped.

I threw myself at her, grabbed what was left of the pages, and slapped her across the face. Her head whipped to the side, and a red handprint bloomed instantly on her cheek.

Natalie clutched her face for half a second, stunned. Then, she let out a yelp and collapsed back into the chair, both hands pressing against her stomach, her face twisting as tears appeared on command.

"My stomach… It hurts so bad… Silas, help me."

Silas shot to his feet and grabbed my wrist, squeezing so hard I thought my wrist would snap.

"Did you just hit her?"

Natalie was still curled up in the chair, clutching her belly and whimpering, tears sliding down her cheeks. "Silas, I was only joking with her. How could she do this to our baby?"

He turned and rubbed her back, murmuring a few words of comfort. When he looked at me again, the darkness in his eyes was almost spilling over.

"Apologize."

I stared at his face, and for the first time, I felt like I was looking at a complete stranger. I tried to wrench my wrist free, but his grip was too strong, and I couldn't budge.

So, I stopped trying. Instead, I swung my leg and drove my foot into the side of his knee.

He buckled from the pain, and his hand loosened just enough. I pulled free and whipped my palm across his face.

The slap echoed through the room. Silas' head snapped to the side.

I shook out my stinging hand and looked at him. "I didn't just hit her. I hit you too."

Silas ran his tongue along the corner of his mouth, and a flicker of amusement crossed his eyes. "That temper of yours really is something."

Right on cue, Natalie let out another whimper, clutching her stomach. Silas immediately scooped her into his arms and headed for the door to take her to the hospital.

On his way out, he looked back at me. "I'll come find you tonight."

At 8:00 pm, I was on my way to the airport, dragging my suitcase behind me.

Meanwhile, Silas sat in the hospital room, checking his watch every few minutes until he couldn't take it anymore and reached for his jacket.

"Silas." Before he could take a step, Natalie caught his arm and looked up at him with wide, pleading eyes.

"Where are you going? Please don't leave me."

He used his free hand to pry her fingers loose. "I'm going to check on Willa."

When she still wouldn't let go, the restlessness in his chest sharpened into something closer to unease. He looked at her red-rimmed eyes, and his resolve softened. "Fine. I'll stay."

But even as he watched Natalie brighten, his thoughts drifted to me. Almost without thinking, he dialed my number.

It went straight to voicemail, and when he tried again, he got the same thing.

He pulled up our text thread and typed out a message, but it bounced back undelivered. He tried calling one more time, and this time, a recording told him the number was no longer in service.

He stared at the screen for two seconds, and it hit him. I had blocked him.