Page 48 of Cold Mercy

So no, I don’t need new contacts, favors, or someone hovering over my shoulder pretending they’re helping. I handled this on my own for two years just fine. At least, I did until recently.

Because for the past few days, I haven’t been functioning the way I raised myself to. I haven’t trained, I haven’t opened the notes. This time, I haven’t chased leads or rewritten timelines. The systems I built to survive have been sitting untouched, like muscle memory suddenly refusing to kick in.

And I want to punch myself for that. I feel like a fucking idiot.

I don’t know what Reed meant when he said all those things. I don’t know what he thinks he sees when he looks at me. I think he’s confusing me with someone else entirely. Someone capable of something real. Something sustainable.

We could never be anything, and that much is obvious. One serious decision, one badly timed sentence, and I shut him out while he throws my dead fiancé in my face. That’s not a misunderstanding, it’s a preview of a future we both don't want. Reality has a funny way of correcting me, just like everything else does.

And still… I can’t shut off one thing. With him, there is something unspoken. A kind of understanding that didn’t require explanation. He didn’t ask questions, but he noticed. He sensed things in me I’ve spent years making invisible. And somehow, in the middle of all this chaos, his presence made functioning easier.

Fuck. I don't understand why I’m still thinking about him. I’m the one who told him to go to hell. I made it clear. And he listened. He stepped back, he let go.

So why the fuck am I still here, replaying it all like I didn’t already end it?

✽✽✽

Today, Elizabeth insisted we try wedding cake flavors. Her wedding is approaching painfully fast, and I asked whether she shouldn’t be doing this with her fiancé, considering it’s also his wedding. But she told me he’ll just say all of them taste exquisite, plus he went somewhere with Thomas, so she wants today just with me. She’s already prepared everything and claims it’ll be fun. Of course.

I can practically see her glowing as she eats mountains of frosting. Might I actually need that? Just a soft afternoon with my best friend, ice cream, and complaining about men. I text her to confirm.

It’s just the two of us?

Yes, you weirdo, I'm waiting for you.

I may be weird, but I don't need another afternoon with him.

I get to their house, and my mood is pretty garbage. It has been since the last conversation with Reed, but I put on my cheerful mask, knock, and Elizabeth opens the door with enough excitement to power every house nearby.

I step inside, take off my shoes, and walk toward the massive dining table in their open kitchen-living room. And there they are, twenty slices of cake. James, who I won’t blame yet because it’s his home. And next to him, arms crossed like he owns the place, is Reed.

I stare at them, then at Elizabeth, then back at them.

“Elizabeth, I just remembered I have something critical to take care of, so I’ll just—” I turn on my heel, but Elizabeth immediately steps in front of the door, blocking it like a guard dog.

“You’re not going anywhere, you promised me.”

I exhale sharply. Fine. No scene for today. I walk in, pasting the fakest smile on my face.

“James, soon-to-be husband of my best friend, hello. Weren’t you not supposed to be here?”

He eats a bite of cake, talking with his mouth full.

“Thanks, Soph, always so sweet and polite.”

I don’t even look in Reed’s direction, but of course he ruins it.

“What happened to ‘hi’, princess?”

Oh. So that’s what we’re doing now. Back to the mocking games.

Interesting choice, Reed. I grip the tiny fork so tightly I might snap it in half. Even James chokes back a laugh. So I inhale, keeping my eyes fixed on the cakes.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Reed,” I say in the politest voice I can muster.

He doesn’t miss a beat.

“Oh, come on. If I’d known you’d be here, I wouldn’t have come either.” He grins like this is some flirtatious game.