I woke up to sunlight streaming through the tall, arched windows of the mansion bedroom soft, golden rays spilling across the white sheets like melted honey. The silence of the place used to feel heavy, like the walls were echoing Maxwell's absence. But this morning… it felt different. Peaceful.
I stretched, letting the cool air from the half-open balcony doors brush against my skin. The scent of dew and blooming jasmine drifted in, mingling with the faint aroma of the sea breeze that always seemed to find its way up here. From the balcony, the view was breathtaking, endless gardens below, perfectly trimmed hedges, and the faint shimmer of the pool catching the morning sun.
For once, I wasn't lonely. I was content.
My phone buzzed on the bedside table. When I saw Maxwell's name flashing on the screen, I hesitated for a second before answering.
"Hey," I said, my voice soft but steady.
"Rose," his voice came through, calm and familiar. "I'm sorry I haven't called as much as I should. Things have been crazy over here."
I leaned against the balcony rail, letting the sunlight warm my face. "I figured. You've said that before."
He chuckled lightly, the sound almost guilty. "I know, but I mean it this time. I'm really sorry, sweetheart. I'll be back next week, I promise. I miss you."
There was a strange comfort in hearing that. "It's okay," I said. "I've been keeping busy."
"Oh?" His tone lifted with curiosity. "With what?"
"Pottery," I replied, smiling. "Clarissa convinced me to try it, and it's been… surprisingly healing. There's something about working with clay, it's like you can shape your emotions into something beautiful."
Maxwell laughed softly. "That sounds perfect for you, Rose. I'm glad you found something that makes you happy."
"I have," I said truthfully. "I even joined the weekend classes. You should see what I made..well, almost made. It's not perfect, but it feels good."
"Keep at it," he said warmly. "You sound lighter. Happier. I've missed that in your voice."
That caught me off guard. I didn't realize how much I'd changed until he said it. Maybe I was happier.
After we hung up, I stood there for a while, watching the morning unfold over the gardens. The mansion no longer felt like a cage,it felt like a quiet sanctuary. For the first time, I didn't need Maxwell to fill the silence.
Days passed easily after that. By Saturday, I was practically humming with excitement as I drove to the pottery studio.
The moment I stepped in, the scent of clay and paint greeted me. Clarissa waved from the corner, her smile wide. "Rose! Over here!"
I joined her quickly. The class was more crowded like he said, around ten people now. Among them was a sweet gay couple who'd joined to strengthen their bond. Watching them made me smile; there was such tenderness in the way they worked together, like they understood each other without words.
And then I saw him.
Mickey.
He was already at the front, sleeves rolled up, his hands dusted with clay as usual. That same easy smile played on his lips as he went around greeting everyone, helping fix wheels and checking water bowls. His laughter filled the room, effortless and warm.
And that's when it hit me, the other day's charm, that smile he gave me, the way his eyes seemed to hold mine a second too long… it wasn't special. That was just who he was.
He was kind to everyone.
Still, I couldn't help the tiny flicker of disappointment that settled in my chest. I tried to focus on my work, shaping the wet clay into something recognizable, but my eyes kept drifting toward him.
When class ended, Clarissa pulled me aside. "I'm so glad you're loving this," she said brightly. "You're a natural, Rose. I told you it would feel better than yoga."
I laughed softly. "You were right. I'm actually enjoying this."
We chatted for a bit, but I couldn't help noticing Mickey nearby, talking animatedly with some of the other students—his laughter genuine, his blue eyes glowing with joy. My heart squeezed, and I scolded myself silently. Stop it, Rose. You're not sixteen.
A few minutes later, Mickey walked over to us, all smiles. "Hey, Clarissa. Hey, Rose. Great work today you're really improving," he said, looking at me briefly before turning back to Clarissa.
"Thanks," I said, pretending my heart didn't just skip.
Without warning, Clarissa tilted her head and asked, "Mickey, do you have a girlfriend? My niece's in towb and I was thinking of introducing you two."
He laughed softly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Oh, no. I don't have a girlfriend. But that's sweet of you to offer. How old's your niece?"
"She's exactly your age, 21," Clarissa said with a teasing grin. "You two might get along."
Mickey smiled politely. "I don't know for sure..but I would definitely not mind meeting her."
My breath caught. Twenty-one?
I blinked, staring at him as the realization hit. He was practically a baby. I laughed at myself internally with relief.