I shut it down fast.
Before I can overthink any of it, there’s a knock at the door.
“Come in!” I call, half expecting Langston to appear just to prove me wrong.
Instead, Mrs. D steps inside, the ever-dramatic Olga tucked under one arm like a furry handbag.
“Well, don’t you look like a woman with secrets,” she says, eyes scanning the unmade bed and unpacked suitcase.
I laugh. “You mean a woman with commitment issues.”
She waves a hand. “Same thing, dear. Now tell me—how’s married life treating you?”
I sigh, dropping onto the bed beside her. “Surprisingly… great.”
Her brows lift. “Great, huh? That’s a dangerous word.”
“I know,” I admit, smiling despite myself. “He took me on this date yesterday. We spent the whole day at this garden, and he found this little food truck that made the best tacos I’ve ever had. It wasn’t what I expected from him at all.”
Mrs. D’s eyes twinkle. “A man who owns half the city took you to a food truck? That’s either love or a cry for help.”
I laugh. “He was perfect. We just… talked. It felt real, you know? Like he actually saw me.”
Mrs. D hums, clearly delighted. “And how, pray tell, did you end up spending all day with this man who makes you talk like a Hallmark movie?”
“Oh God.” I press a hand over my face. “He saw me working at the Reserve the night before, and when some guy from my past showed up, he—well—went full caveman.”
Her mouth drops open in delighted horror. “He what?”
“Dragged me away from the guy, told him to stay the hell away from me, and then announced to everyone that I was his wife.”
Mrs. D fans herself with a wrinkled hand. “Oh, I love him already.”
I snort. “Of course you do.”
“Darling, if a man looked at me like that in public, I’d faint and call it romance.” She leans closer, lowering her voice. “You listen to me, Sabrina, live your life. Enjoy this ride you’re on, because life’s too short to be boring.”
Something flickers in her eyes—soft, wistful, almost sad—but it’s gone before I can ask.
She clears her throat and gestures toward the suitcase. “So. Are you packing like he asked?”
I grin. “Nope.”
She gasps, clutching Olga dramatically. “You’re defying him already?”
“I’m not defying,” I protest. “I’m… creatively delaying.”
She narrows her eyes. “You just want him to fight for you.”
The thought hits harder than it should. My grin falters for half a second before I cover it with a shrug. “Maybe I like the way his eyes burn when he’s frustrated.”
“Mm-hmm.” Mrs. D smirks. “Or maybe you like the way he looks at you, period.”
I roll my eyes and change the subject fast. “Want to help me brainstorm?”
She sits up straighter. “Brainstorm what?”
“If Langston’s going to make me quit working at the Reserve, then I’m not going to sit around and do nothing. I’ve been thinking about starting a nonprofit.”
