“Yep, this looks like what moving with you would look like,” Alyssa said.

I stood from the couch and turned around as my best friend maneuvered herself past the men hauling boxes.

“It’s really good to see you,” I said with a smile.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t get to you before now,” she said as she set down a present. “Work has been kicking my ass. Come here.”

I wrapped my arms around her and held her close.

The apartment was beautiful, everything I could’ve ever wanted in a living space. But it served as a harsh reminder of what had transpired over the past week. Adam had slowly come by and collected his things from my apartment. We didn’t talk or converse unless we needed to. Once, I ran across the street to the diner to get a milkshake and he was sitting there, smiling and laughing with one of his actresses while they shared a plate of fries.

It made me sick to look at, especially when he caught me staring at them.

Alyssa rubbed my back as tears crested my eyes. The apartment had carpet that reminded me of the kind at my office, comfortable and plush with just the right amount of give. To the left was one bedroom with an en-suite bathroom, and to the right was another bedroom with a bathroom across the hall. There was a kitchen complete with stainless steel appliances and a view to die for tucked away to my left behind a small floating bar. The massive sliding glass doors opened like French doors and poured onto a private balcony that had enough space for a couple chairs and a small table.

“I foresee many glasses of wine being had on that balcony,” Alyssa said.

“Care to make tonight the first one?” I asked.

“I can’t stay all day. Gunning for this damn promotion. But yes, I’m coming back tonight with some things to nibble on and we’re busting open the bottle of wine that’s in that bag.”

“So that’s what you brought me,” I said.

“That and an electric wine bottle opener. None of this screw-top shit anymore because we can’t open them. You live somewhere fancy now. We have to treat it as such.”

“It’s only fancy because it’s the smallest place in this entire building, which means I can sort of afford it.”

“It’s still fancy,” she said. “And I’m proud of you for not letting him take this from you. Because this place? It’s definitely you.”

“You think?” I asked.

“Oh yeah. The light-blue walls. The cream-colored carpets. The tinted windows from the outside that let in just enough light to illuminate this place. And I hear both of the bathrooms have garden tubs. I know you love a good bath.”

“They have decent walk-in showers too.”

“I foresee many men escorting you into them to help you get over Adam.”

“Stop it,” I said as I playfully slapped her.

“Ma’am?” one of the movers asked.

“Yes?”

“This box isn’t labeled.”

“I’m so sorry. There are two unlabeled boxes filled with my kitchen stuff.”

“I’ll make sure they get there,” he said with a kind smile.

“See?” Alyssa said as he walked into my kitchen. “They’re already gunning for you. They smell your singledom. The men of the jungle are gathering.”

“You’re insane. Now stop that and come sit down.”

I flopped down on my new couch. It was a moving-in present from the head of the finance department at Ryan’s company. All the new furniture in my apartment had come from people there—which was sort of odd since I’d only been working there for a month and a half or something like that. Still, they kept popping their heads in and congratulating me on the new place, asking me out to lunch and inviting me out to coworkers’ after-hour parties. It was nice, being accepted by them. Sometimes I sort of felt like I hung in limbo above everyone else due to working directly next to Ryan.

But over the course of the past couple weeks, they’d really made me feel like I belonged somewhere.

“Your obsession with sticky notes is serious. You really need help,” Alyssa said.

“Look, the boxes are labeled with the rooms they go in, but the bedrooms had to be differentiated. And I knew exactly where I wanted the furniture to go, so I put sticky notes on the carpet to mark where they needed to be set.”

“How are you going to get them off the floor if the furniture is sitting on them? Because I know it’ll bug the hell out of you.”

“One step at a time,” I said. “Let me get Adam out of my life first.”

“What does that mean?”

“He hasn’t come by to pick up the last box of his stuff yet. And you know how he is. I told him today was the day I was moving, and his response was, ‘I’ll come by sometime this week and get the last of my things.’ Sometime this week. Like I’m just going to sit here and wait for him to come by.”

“You should throw it out. Oh, or burn it. We could have a burning ceremony. You know, a real purge-the-ex party.”

“And where do you propose we hold this burning ceremony?” I asked.

“A park?”

I giggled and shook my head as the movers kept bringing things in. Alyssa and I sat there on the couch, staring out over the breadth of Portland. My view was perfect. There was no one across the road looking in at me because the building sat at a junction. I saw straight down the road into the endless abyss of downtown, and when the sun went down and the city came alive, rainbow colors from all the illuminated signs lit the view. All the main bars in the area lined the stretch of road I could see from the couch of my apartment, and I bet when the sun draped over the horizon it looked even more beautiful.

“I’m so jealous,” Alyssa said.

“You could always move in with me,” I said with a grin.

“Don’t tempt me. I might just take you up on that.”

“Come on! Your lease comes due in three months. Tell them you're out of there and move in. There’s an entire bedroom and bathroom ready for you if you want it.”

“Are you serious?”

“As a heart attack,” I said.

“Then if I get this promotion next month? Consider it done.”

“Ma’am?” a mover asked.

“Yes?”

“We’re finished.”

“There’s an envelope on the floating bar in the kitchen for you guys. Five paper clips of money to tip you for your work. Thank you so much for helping me.”

“Is there anything else you need? You know we can unpack for a small fee of thirty bucks,” the man said.

“Unpacking is the easy part for me,” I said. “But thank you guys so much for your diligent work.”

“One question. There’s a box marked ‘ex.’”

I saw Alyssa grin out of the corner of my eye as I nodded.

“What about it?”

“Do you want it just left out here? I feel odd having it cross the threshold of a new apartment. Not to be nosy, but I know what a breakup’s like. You want it to stay out here? Or do you want me to kick it in?”

“He could kick it off the balcony,” Alyssa said.

“Stop it,” I said with a giggle. “Just prop the door open with it. This place is still a little stuffy, so circulating some air will help.”

“Will do.”

“And don’t forget the envelope.”

I settled back into the couch as the men left my apartment. The new beginning felt nice, but I had to admit it felt like something was missing. The prospect of Alyssa moving in was nice, but it didn’t fill that hole the way I had thought offering her the room would.

So, I decided to distract myself from it.

“I know Ryan isn’t going to let me pay him back, but I really feel like I need to,” I said.

“Have you talked to him about it at all?” she asked.

“I haven’t. Adam told me not to worry about it, but I know it’s not right. Ryan paid what he did for this place as a congratulatory gift for us moving in together. And since that isn’t happening anymore, I feel weird not paying him back.”

“Well, talk to him. I know you have a couple days off to move going into the weekend, but when you get back to work, just ask him about it. If anything, that man knows how to communicate. He’ll let you know where he stands on the matter.”

“Yeah,” I said with a sigh. “I guess you’re right.”

“I hate to break this up, but I need to get back to work. But I’m coming back over for drinks later, so don’t open that bottle of wine until I get back.”

“Trust me, I won’t. I’m actually heading out in a bit myself. Since my coworkers embraced my move and got me all this furniture, the only thing I have to purchase is a small set to go on the balcony.”

“I wish I had coworkers like that.”

“Come work for Ryan and you will,” I said with a grin.

I stood and hugged my best friend tightly before I waved her off. Then I turned my back and continued looking out the glass doors. I stood there with my hands tucked behind my back, fiddling with my nail beds as I took in the expanse of the world in front of me.

“Knock, knock.”

I smiled at the sound of Ryan’s voice.

“Hope I’m not interrupting anything,” he said.

“Come on in. It’s just me.”

“Wow, the movers are done already?”

“I didn’t have much, even with the furniture.”

Ryan walk in, brandishing a beautiful bottle of champagne.

“I saw how much you enjoyed it the night we spoke, so I figured it would work nicely as a welcome home gift.”

“Thank you. So, what do you think?” I asked.

His eyes scanned my apartment, and I found myself nervous about his response.

“It’s actually pretty nice,” he said.

“You think so?” I asked, turning back to it.

“Yeah. And that view. That’s hard to beat.”

“I still can’t believe I can afford a view like this in Portland, but the price was right I guess.”

I heard a cork pop behind me and whipped my head around. Seemingly from out of nowhere, he had two champagne flutes between his fingers. He poured us each a glass as he walked toward me, kicking his shoes off before he did so.

“Where were you stashing those?” I asked as he handed me a glass.

“If I told you, I’d have to kill you,” he said with a wink.

“To new homes and new adventures. Sometimes it takes an injury to heal and move forward.”

“Wiser words have never been spoken,” he said.

We clinked our glasses and silently sipped our champagne.

“My gosh this is good,” I said. “And don’t tell me how much it cost. I might just stop drinking it.”

“My lips are sealed,” Ryan said.

“Something tells me you aren’t simply here to celebrate my move-in day.”

“I admit I wanted to check up on you. Why didn’t you tell me you and Adam had ended things?”

“I didn’t want to talk about it. I cried over it, and then I wanted to move forward. I don’t want to bring that world to work any longer. What’s done is done, and the only thing to do is press on.”

“But you know you can talk to me.”

“Of course I know that,” I said. “But I was tired of crying. And I knew if I talked, I would cry.”

“There’s nothing wrong with crying.”

“There is when you’re me.”

“Why?” he asked.

“Because it makes me feel weak.”

“Crying doesn’t make you weak, Kylie.”

“It doesn’t make someone weak, but personally? It makes me feel weak. There’s a difference.”

“Fair enough.”

I turned my head up to him and furrowed my brow.

“What? Did you expect me to keep debating it with you?”

“I guess I did,” I said.

“That’s how you feel. I’m not the determiner of how you feel. I don’t get to dictate how something makes you feel.”

It was an odd concept, especially after being with someone who had enjoyed trying to determine how something should’ve made me feel.

“Do you have any furniture for your deck?” Ryan asked.

“I’m going to head out today and find some,” I said.

“I think a nice little set of wrought-iron furniture would look great out there. Some small cushions, a glass-top table.”

“I was thinking wicker furniture.”

“You want to sit on weeds?”

I looked up at him as I wrinkled my nose. “What?” I asked.

“I hate wicker. I don’t know why anyone would want to sit on weeds. The second you sit on it, the material sounds like it’s breaking. The furniture is literally breaking as you sit on it.”

I began to laugh as Ryan’s face morphed into some sort of mock disgust.

“Well not all of us are packed with seventy pounds of muscle,” I said.

“But what if you bring someone around who is packed with seventy pounds of muscle? Are you going to make them sit on your furniture made of weeds?”

“It’s not made of dandelions, Ryan. It’s wicker.”

“Which is another way to spell ‘worthless weeds.’”

I threw my head back in laughter, filling my apartment with a happiness I hadn’t experienced in weeks. Months even. Ryan’s chuckle sloped over my body and draped me in a warmth I couldn’t deny. Or maybe it was the champagne.

The champagne seemed like a good culprit.

Not the laugh of my ex’s father.

“Is there anything I can do, Kylie? Anything you need?”

My jovial laughter came to a halt as I brought my champagne to my lips. I drew in a deep breath, contemplating the seriousness of his tone. I knew if I asked, he would give it to me. Whatever I needed, he would make sure it happened. That was another foreign concept to me. I wasn’t sure what to ask for even if I did need something. What did I need? I needed to not hurt. Could he help me not hurt? I needed for Adam to get his shit and get out of my life. Would he take his son’s stuff with him and get it out of my sight?

I flickered my gaze up to him as I cleared my throat.

“No,” I said before I took a sip of my drink. “But thank you for being so supportive. And for refusing to take sides even though you’re my ex’s father. I appreciate that.”

“I have taken a side actually. I don’t ever take a man’s side when he’s mistreating a woman, not even if that man is my son.”

I looked into his eyes as his body turned toward mine.

I moved with his body, facing him instead of the view. I gazed into his eyes, watching the entire city of Portland reflect back at me in his oceanic gaze. My heart fluttered in my chest as I held my champagne flute at my side, forgetting about the tingling carbonation that tickled my nose. My gaze danced within Ryan’s as he took a step forward, blanketing me in a heat I’d become all too comforted by.

“Kylie.”

“Yeah?” I asked breathlessly.

“I’ve tried to fight it.”

My eyes fell to his lips as his free hand came up to cup my cheek.

“I need you to know that I tried.”

His thumb stroked across my cheek, sending a blazing fire roaring in my gut.

“Stop trying,” I said in a whisper.

And before I could blink, his hand guided me to his lips.

His arm hooked underneath mine, falling to my waist and pulling me into him. I stood on my tiptoes, pressing my lips against his as his chest swelled against mine. His lips tasted of champagne and lewd desires and his tongue felt like maturity and responsibility. His tongue slid against my lips, asking for entrance rather than taking what was in his arms. I slipped my arms around his neck, pulling myself even closer to him as I stood on the very tips of my toes. He wrapped his strong arms around me, his every waking muscle pulsing as our tongues collided.

He groaned into me and pressed me into the glass doors.

I breathed him in, took in the scent of his cologne as his hand ran down my leg. He gripped my thigh, hiking it up and smoothing his hand over my skin. His touch was electric. His mouth ignited a fire in my gut I couldn't ignore. Weeks of tension that I’d ignored between us exploded against my face and shot fireworks off in my mind. I slid my tongue along his. I rolled my hips into his. He pulled back his lips and pressed his forehead against mine, panting in time with the rapid beating of my heart.

“What the actual fuck is going on?”

Ryan’s entire body tensed as Adam’s voice barreled in from the open doorway.

“You’ve got to be shitting me. Kylie? Dad?”

Of course he came now. The one moment when his untimely mannerism would’ve been a welcomed notion, he barged in exactly on time, on the exact day at the exact time I told him I would be settling into my apartment.

I wanted him to leave. I wanted him to leave me alone and leave us alone so I could explore the cannon that had exploded in my gut and left me breathless. But Ryan pulled his hands away from my body. The only thing I could think was how much I wanted them to come back.

How much I wanted him to come back.