Across The Ice: Falling for my ex’s biggest rival
I had three pages of notes and thirty-seven photos, and none of it translated into a finished article. The cursor blinked on the blank page, waiting.
“This is your thinking face.”
Melissa leaned against the doorway with a coffee, watching me like she’d walked in on a rerun she’d seen before.
“I thought my thinking face looked smarter.”
“It does,” she said, dragging a chair over and sitting across from me. “That’s the problem.”
I slid the notebook toward her. She flipped through it slowly, humming under her breath as she skimmed, pausing here and there like she was testing the weight of something. When she closed it, she didn’t rush to fill the silence, which made me sit up straighter.