Chapter 118. From Heartbreak To Headline: pt. 2

The doorbell jiggles—three short, impatient rings that yank me out of my spiral. I freeze on the couch, tissues balled in my fist, mascara tracks dried on my cheeks. Who the hell is that? My stomach drops. Landlady, probably. Rent was due four days ago, and I haven’t answered her texts. I haven’t answered anyone. I stopped going to work last week, called in “sick” until my voice cracked, and now I’m pretty sure I’m fired. Money’s gone, pride’s gone, everything’s gone.

I sigh, heavy and defeated, drag myself up, and shuffle to the door. My oversized T-shirt—Noah’s old one, because apparently I’m still punishing myself—hangs off one shoulder, and my shorts are wrinkled from days of wear. I don’t care. I crack the door open, ready to beg for an extension.

It’s not the landlady.

It’s Derick.

My breath catches. He’s standing there in a charcoal suit, tie loosened, top buttons undone, looking like he walked straight out of the wedding reception. Dark hair tousled,