She had taken control of a bad situation. He had been trying to force her hand, and she hadn’t allowed it. So there was that.
“Dinner should be here soon,” Nora said, popping in from the kitchen. They had decided to get delivery and christen the new apartment. Sam and Zach had helped move everything in, and then Nora had shooed them along, telling both of them not to worry, because they would find a way to get home.
“I’ll just take an Uber,” Nora had said.
Which was how they were getting food too.
Sorayaneverordered delivery. Ever. She always did the cooking. It was part of her job, part of David’s expectations. She couldn’t retrofit it now and say that she hadn’t wanted to do it, or that she’d found it unfair; she hadn’t. She’d enjoyed her life as his wife, and she’d enjoyed keeping their house and cooking their meals. It was only she’d never realized that with the way their life was arranged, he was essentially her boss.
He could let her go and rescind every benefit she’d had from her job. Leave her with nothing, which was what he’d done.
She’d kept everything clean, and she’d done it forhimin a way she hadn’t fully realized. Because the house had always been his, when she’d thought it had been theirs.
This place would be hers. At least for a while. She could put what she wanted in it; she could leave it untidy if she felt like it.
She could order takeout.
It certainly wouldn’t be anyone else’s decision. That sent a thrill through her. She hadn’t expected to get a thrill out of this.
She’d gone straight from her dad’s house to her husband’s house. No place had ever been hers. She had always lived according to the standards of the people around her.
This was about her.
The little space looked cute too. The couch and love seat fit, even if just barely, around the coffee table that had been there when she’d arrived. The mantel had the candles with all their wedding rings on it, and she had brought a hand-tatted rug that her grandmother had made, which made the space look cozy.
The kitchen was full to the brim with all her baking paraphernalia, and it was just hers.
Hers.
“Oh, the delivery’s here,” Nora said, looking at her phone.
“I’ll get it,” Soraya said.
Because this was her new place. It felt good to get delivery that she’d ordered just for herself. It was such a small, silly thing.
But she had been denied a whole lot of small, silly things in her life. She had jumped into adulthood with both feet and had never really done the young-adult thing. She wouldn’t have chosen this. But here she was. She felt like the carefree early-twenties woman she had never been. Just for a moment. Just for a moment, totally unencumbered by anything.
She swept out the door and walked down the narrow hall, going down the staircase and opening the door. There was a person getting out of their car, who held up a bag of food. “Nora?”
“Yep,” she said.
She didn’t even feel the need to explain. It wasn’t a lie, it was Nora’s order. But in the past, she might’ve felt like she had to add a big, long description so it could all be strictly honest. But not now. Just not right now.
She took the bag of food and started back up the stairs, when she heard the door open a few feet away and stopped. It was the apartment across from hers. Probably the footsteps she had heard last night. A man stepped out, taller than she was by quite a bit, his dark hair pushed back off his forehead. His eyes were a startling blue, his jaw square, shoulders broad. He was maybe five years older than she was and ... beautiful.
Stunning.
Yes, she had been around Zach Woods all day, who was Hollywood beautiful if ever that archetype existed. This guy was real-world glorious. That made him feel slightly more dangerous. Because Zach felt like he was on the other side of the silver screen even when he was standing right in front of you. This guy was like ... there. There and gorgeous and ...
“You must be the person who just moved in today?”
She blinked. He was talking to her.
“Yes.” She was suddenly very aware of the fact that her left hand was bare. “Yes, I am. My name is ... Soraya. Soraya Nichols. I work at Lady’s Mantle.”
“Nice,” he said. “I’m Declan. I own Dice and Dragons, just downstairs.”
“Oh. I’ve never ... I’ve never been in there.” That was a weird thing to say. Tell the guy she had never been to his business. “What kind of things do you have in the store?” She tightened her hold on the brown paper bag. She was practicing talking to him. Practicing talking to a new person. That was all. Was she flirting? No. She didn’t even know how to flirt. She couldn’t muster up any guilt over finding him hot even though she was still married. Not given all the issues with David.
