A few seconds later, text notifications started flooding in, each more desperate than the last.
The erratic punctuation and typos, coupled with the emotional intensity, made it clear he was drunk and struggling. He swung between jealousyand desperation, trying to convince me to come back with a mix of guilt, longing, and nostalgic reminders of our past. It felt like he was grasping at straws, trying to rekindle something that had already burned out, yet his words tugged at my heart, stirring up emotions that I had been trying to set aside.
Part of me wanted to text back. Despite everything, I still cared and worried about him. Seeing the pain and desperation in his messages made it hard to ignore. He sounded so lost and hurt, and part of me wanted to soothe him, to tell him everything would be okay. But I knew that comforting him now would only blur the lines, and keep us both stuck in the past. This wasn’t about him missing me as a person, it was about the comfort and familiarity we once shared, which wasn’t healthy for either of us.
As much as it pained me, I had to let him go. For both of our sakes.
Regretting unmuting his number, I hovered my thumb over the block button, hesitating. It was a drastic step, and one that would add a layer of finality to our breakup. My phone rang again—Sebastian. The sound of the ringtone was a harsh reminder of the chaos we were both trying to escape. I declined the call, my resolve hardening.
With a deep breath, I mustered up all my courage and blocked his number. It felt like closing a door that had been left ajar for too long. As I did, a wave of emotion hit me, tears welling up in my eyes. It was painful, like a small piece of my heart breaking all over again, and I cried quietly, mourning not just for him, but for me, and for the relationship we had lost.
But, amidst the tears, there was also a sense of rightness. Blocking him was a necessary step toward healing. A way to protect myself and start moving on. It was a hard, but needed, goodbye.
Chapter 11
YESTERDAY HAD BEEN A whirlwind of creativity. Blocking Sebastian made me feel surprisingly light, as if a weight had been lifted off my shoulders, and the inspiration I had been desperately seeking finally took root. I spent the entire day in my little makeshift studio, surrounded by canvases and splashes of paint, and the wooden floors were speckled with color, remnants of past works blending with new bursts of bright hues. I experimented with different colors and styles, blending bold strokes with delicate lines, trying something new, and even revisiting some of my old techniques. The hours flew by, with the sun setting outside the window, leaving the room bathed in the soft glow of my desk lamp. As I poured my emotions onto the canvas, the act of painting became a cathartic release, each brushstroke a step toward healing.
I only paused for brief breaks, during which I sipped on tea and exchanged texts with Ivy, confirming our plans for a shopping trip. It feltgood to have something to look forward to. A break from the emotional rollercoaster of the past few days.
Now it was Wednesday, and I stood outside a quaint little boutique called Pixie & Posh. The shopfront was whimsical, with its name painted in playful, curling script above the door. Large bay windows showcased an array of colorful dresses, vintage accessories, and quirky decorations that beckoned passersby with their charm. The window displays showcased mannequins dressed in layered, bohemian-style outfits, with chunky jewelry and stylish shoes accenting their look. Fairy lights twinkled around the edges of the windows, adding a magical touch.
The air was crisp, carrying the earthy scent of fallen leaves, and the now-familiar aroma of fresh brews from Harvest Moon Coffee. The sky above was a clear, soft blue, with golden sunlight breaking through the few clouds in the sky
I glanced in the direction of the coffee shop again. It would have been nice to stop by for a quick latte, but I didn’t want to be late, or keep Ivy waiting. She had only her lunch break to shop with me, though she’d reassured me that one of the perks of owning her own shop was the flexibility to take as long as she wanted. Katie, who helped her around the store, was perfectly capable of handling things in her absence.
Ivy approached, carrying two cups of coffee, and the distinct scent of pumpkin spice wafted towards me. She wore a soft, oversized crochet sweater, balanced with a green floral-print mini skirt that moved gracefully with her steps. Delicate lace tights covered her legs, and she added an edgy contrast to the softness of her outfit with chunky black boots. Her dark blue hair sported two playful space buns, and she had a small crocheted bag slung over her shoulder.
I couldn’t help but admire her style, wishing I could pull off something as unique and put-together. I glanced down at my outfit—a leathermini-skirt paired with a mustard jumper. It was cute and trendy, but it felt more like a safe choice than a true reflection of my personality.
Ivy beamed with excitement as she reached me, somehow managing to pull me into a quick hug while expertly balancing the two coffee cups. Her energy was contagious, and I smiled back at her as she passed over one of the cups.
“I thought you might need a little pumpkin spice pick-me-up. We’ve got a lot of shopping to do, and we’ll need all the energy we can get!” she said, with a playful wink,
I accepted the warm cup gratefully, inhaling the comforting scent. “You’re the best,” I said, touched by her thoughtful gesture.
As we stepped into Pixie & Posh, the gentle chime of the bell announced our arrival, blending seamlessly with the soft indie music playing in the background. Vintage posters adorned the walls, their faded colors contrasting with the warm glow of lights above. The air in the room carried the soothing scent of lavender and vanilla, which mingled with the earthy tones of the wooden shelves and racks.
With its bohemian dresses, flowing fabrics, vintage-inspired pieces, and quirky accessories, the boutique was a treasure trove of eclectic finds, where every item had a story waiting to be discovered.
Behind the counter stood a young woman with oversized, round glasses perched on her nose, her pixie-cut hair a vibrant shade of purple that contrasted strikingly with her soft features. She wore a lace-trimmed cami that peeked out beneath an oversized flannel, its worn softness hanging loosely off her shoulders. High-waisted cargo pants hugged her hips, the fabric heavy and utilitarian, contrasting with the delicate lace. Scuffed Converse peeked out from beneath the wide legs of her pants, while silver rings gleamed on her fingers, each one unique, catching the light as she moved.
“Hey, Amelia!” Ivy exclaimed, placing her coffee cup on the counter.
Amelia’s face lit up with a bright smile. “Ivy! It’s great to see you!” she responded, her brown eyes twinkling behind her glasses. She turned her attention to me, her expression warm and welcoming. “And Vinnie! It’s so good to finally meet you! I’m Amelia,” she said with a bright smile. “Ivy’s told me a lot about you, so I feel like I already know you.” She laughed, giving Ivy a playful nudge.
“How are you liking it here so far?” Amelia asked, her tone warm and curious. “Settling in okay?”
I smiled, easily matching Amelia’s warm energy. “It’s been great so far! And it’s nice to finally meet you, too. I hear you’re also a bigMurder Chroniclesfan.”
Amelia’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Oh my God, yes! I’mobsessed! Did you see the last episode? That cliffhanger was insane! I’mdyingto see what happens next!”
I laughed, nodding along. “Seriously, that last episode? I’m still reeling! Can you believe they just left it with Brandon standing over the body like that? I need to know what happens next!”
“Exactly!” Amelia grinned. “Anyways, feel free to browse around. We just got a new shipment in yesterday. Oh, and there’s this dress in the new arrivals that made me think of you immediately,” she said, glancing at Ivy.
“You know me too well. But today’s about Vinnie,” Ivy said, though she couldn’t hide her excitement at the prospect of new clothes.
Amelia laughed, nodding towards the back of the store. “Take your time and enjoy. If you need anything, just holler.”
