Jace didn't sleep that night. Not really. Even after the call with Rebecca, after the shaky smile she'd managed to coax out of him, the ache in his chest never lifted or at least it did just for the moment. He paced his apartment like a caged animal, every plan he thought of felt stupid, small, not enough. Amy deserved everything but right now he could barely offer her an apology she hadn't already heard before.
By morning, he was on Sophie's doorstep again.
Sophie didn't yell this time. She just stared at him, arms folded, jaw tight, like she'd spent all night debating whether she even had the energy to care.
"Oh, you've got some nerve," she muttered, crossing her arms.
"I need to see her," Jace said, voice hoarse from lack of sleep and too much screaming inside his own head.
"She's not here."
"Don't lie to me."
Sophie sighed, pressing her forehead briefly against the doorframe like she was gathering patience. "I'm not lying. She was here. But she left. Told me she needed space. And honestly? I think she's right."
Jace's stomach twisted. "Where did she go?"
"Home, I guess. But don't even think about barging over there like some grand romantic hero. She's not ready for that."
"I'm not trying to be a hero," Jace muttered, voice heavy. "I just… I need her to know..."
"She knows." Sophie's voice softened just a fraction. "Jace, she knows. But knowing doesn't fix this."
He rubbed his face with both hands, dragging frustration and helplessness down his skin. "You don't get it, Sophie. I can't just… sit around waiting. I love her."
Sophie narrowed her eyes, studying him like she was trying to decide whether to feel sorry for him or slap him. "Do you think love is supposed to fix the mess you made?"
That stopped him.
Sophie stepped out now, standing between him and the doorway like a bouncer at the gates of heaven. "You know why Amy's really upset?,Amy hates lies, It's not just Gina. It's not just what she said. It's also because you didn't trust her enough to tell her before all of this exploded."
"I was afraid I'd lose her."
"Congratulations," Sophie shot back bitterly. "That worked out great for you."
Silence. His jaw tightened.
But Sophie's expression finally softened a little. She exhaled slowly, shoulders dropping. "Look... she loves you, Jace. That's the part that's breaking her the most."
His head shot up, heart pounding.
"She loves you," Sophie repeated. "But right now? Love hurts more than it helps. She doesn't need promises. She needs space. And if you actually give a damn about her, you'll give her that."
For the first time, Jace didn't argue.
Sophie leaned against the doorframe. "Go home. Figure out who you are when you're not begging for forgiveness. And maybe… maybe she'll be ready to hear you out properly."
He nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. "Thank you."
"Don't thank me yet," Sophie muttered. "You haven't earned it."
He stood there for another moment, useless, hurting, but finally nodded. "And thanks… for taking care of her."
Sophie gave a humorless smile. "Someone's got to."
She tried closing the door but stopped and turned to him. "I'm sorry for all my backlashing towards you, Amy's my best friend and if she's hurting,I feel it. I was really rooting for both of you but you just went ahead to do this".
"I'm understand .....I'm sorry too" He nodded.
And then she closed the door.
This wasn't over. Not yet.
But it wasn't going to be easy either.
...
The weight of the grocery bags was starting to dig into her wrists by the time Amy reached the steps to her apartment building. Typical. She'd convinced herself she only needed a few things like milk, eggs, bread but somehow ended up with enough to restock a small café.
And of course, the elevator was broken. Just as she huffed out a breath and shifted the bags awkwardly to get a better grip, a voice cut through the humid afternoon air.
"Need a hand?"
She glanced up and was met with an easy, crooked smile, dark curls falling just slightly over his brown eyes that managed to look both warm and amused. Her neighbor. The one she'd seen in the hallway a few times but never spoken to beyond the occasional polite nod.
Up close, he was definitely more handsome than she'd noticed before. Maybe she hadn't been looking properly. Or maybe she'd just been too tangled up in someone else to even notice.
"I don't usually accept help from strangers," Amy said cautiously, adjusting the strap of one bag over her shoulder.
The stranger lifted both hands in mock surrender, his grin widening. "Completely understandable. But we're technically neighbors, which makes me… slightly less strange."
That made her laugh....a tired, genuine thing she hadn't expected to escape her lips today. "Slightly." She said.
"Name's Ethan," he said, stepping closer and gently taking the heaviest bag from her. "Third floor. Apartment with the perpetually broken light fixing."
"Ah. So you're the one who leaves mysterious guitar sounds drifting through the vents at night."
"Guilty," he said with a small laugh. "But only because I'm still figuring out how to play without sounding like I'm torturing the thing."
Amy smiled despite herself. "I thought it was good, actually."
"You don't have to be modest" he said grinning.
They made their way up the stairs together, the silence between them oddly comfortable. Ethan didn't push, didn't flirt, didn't do anything other than walk beside her like a quiet reassurance that maybe the world wasn't entirely falling apart.
At her door, he set the bag down carefully. "There. A successful rescue mission."
"Thanks," she said softly. "I....uh...I appreciate it,you really didn't have to."
"I know" he replied easily. "But it looked like you were loosing a battle with those bags" he pointed at them and she replied with a simple smile.
For a second, his eyes lingered on her face not in that lingering way that men sometimes looked when they wanted something, but with curiosity. Like he could sense something cracked underneath her polite smile but wasn't going to ask unless she wanted to tell him.
"Hope you're okay?" He asked anyways.
"Uh...yes.... Of course..yes" She answered almost unsure of herself.
"Well, I'll leave you to it. If you ever want a live performance of bad guitar covers or someone to have some wine with, I'm three doors down the hall."
Amy chuckled. "I'll keep that in mind."
With a nod and another flash of that crooked smile, he turned and headed down the hall, whistling softly under his breath.
When she stepped inside her apartment, the smell of lavender cleaner from the night before greeted her again. It was peaceful. Almost too peaceful.
Amy put the groceries down, pressing her hands against the countertop. The warmth of Ethan's easy friendliness lingered, but beneath it was something sharper.
Jace's absence.
It wasn't that Ethan meant anything. Not yet or ever. But he represented something she hadn't expected to feel so soon: the idea that her world might still exist without Jace in it.
It scared her a little.
...
Amy carefully tucked away the last of the groceries, lining everything up neatly like it would somehow bring order to the rest of her chaotic life. Cereal. Tea. Pasta.Rice. Chocolate tucked quietly behind canned tomatoes. Her hands moved automatically, mind elsewhere.
When she was done, she stood back and admired her handiwork not because it mattered, but because it was something she could control.
The apartment was still too quiet. Even the hum of the refrigerator sounded loud in the emptiness.
With a sigh, she dropped onto the couch, picked up the remote, and flicked on the TV. Random TV shows filled the screen. Characters laughed too loudly, too forced. She couldn't even follow what they were saying.
After ten minutes of sitting there, staring blankly at the moving images, boredom hit her. The kind that came with knowing you were trying to outrun your own mind, and failing.
Her thoughts drifted to Ethan, the neighbor. His easy smile, the casual kindness in his eyes. And that bottle of wine he'd offered. Maybe… maybe she should take him up on that, say thank you properly.
Not empty-handed, though. She sprang up from the couch.
Opening the cupboard, she pulled out a small box of instant pudding mix she'd just bought. Not too fancy, but it would do.
As she stirred milk into the powder and poured it into a glass bowl, she felt absurdly domestic like someone pretending she had it together.
Within twenty minutes, the pudding was set enough to pass for dessert. She grabbed one of the better bottle of wine she'd picked up at the store earlier and glanced at herself in the mirror on the way out. Tired eyes. No makeup. Hoodie. Good enough.
She felt stupid halfway to his place. What was she doing really?
Before she could second guess herself and walk back to her apartment. She'd already pressed the doorbell.
When Ethan opened the door, wearing jeans and a grey t-shirt that fit just a little too well, he looked genuinely surprised. ....and then pleased.
" Hey, neighbour." His gaze dipped to the pudding and the bottle in her hands. "Wow, you came prepared."
She gave an awkward little smile. "Um… pudding for your troubles. And wine. Figured I should say thanks properly for rescuing me from Death By Grocery Bags earlier."
Ethan chuckled, stepping back and pushing the door open wider. "Come in. Unless you're on your way to another awkward supermarket run."
Amy hesitated. "I shouldn't.....you can...take.."
"I don't bite" he cut her. Her gut tensed for no real reason maybe just because she'd forgotten what it felt like to be in a man's apartment who wasn't him.
But she nodded and stepped inside.
Ethan's place was almost identical to hers in layout, but somehow it felt… different. More grounded. The places where shelves held books in her place were replaced with trophies and framed photos of himself running in a marathon and landscape images. A leather jacket was slung across one chair. The faint smell of some kind of perfume or soap hung in the air. It wasn't Jace's scent. And that alone made her stomach twist.
"Nice place," she murmured, shifting from foot to foot.
"Thanks. You've seen one of these apartments, you've seen 'em all," he joked. "Except mine's obviously cooler."
A laugh slipped out of her before she could stop it. It felt good. Strange, but good.
They moved toward the kitchen area, placing the pudding and wine on the counter. He opened a drawer, grabbed two mismatched spoons, and handed her one like it was some kind of ceremony.
"To awkward neighbors," he grinned, raising his spoon like a toast.
Amy raised hers smiling back. "To awkward neighbors."
They both took a bite, and to her surprise, the pudding wasn't terrible. She caught his eye, and they both smiled like kids sharing a secret.
"So you're an athlete?"" Amy started.
"Used to be " He replied sipping from the wine glass.
"Oh" Amy replied not wanting to pry
"So," Ethan said after a moment, leaning against the counter, "how long have we been neighbors again?"
Amy tilted her head thoughtfully. "Almost a year, I think" she said.
"And yet we've perfected the 'weird smile in the hallway and pretend to look at our phones' routine." Ethan said laughing softly.
"Hey, don't laugh.That's prime awkward neighbor etiquette."
For a while, they just talked nothing deep, mostly silly, about the time she'd nearly tripped over his cat outside the elevator, or the bizarre neighbor two doors down who talked loudly to his plants. It felt… normal. Light. Like stretching after being tense too long.
But eventually, his eyes flicked over her, thoughtful. "You've been away for quite some time though," he said gently. "Everything okay?"
Amy glanced down at her spoon, swirling pudding that didn't really need swirling. She could lie. Say it was work. Say it was stress. But for some reason, she didn't want to lie to him.
"It's complicated," she finally said. "Personal stuff. Relationship stuff."
Ethan nodded like he understood, not pushing. "Messy personal stuff is basically the human condition."
She smirked faintly. "You're very philosophical for a guy who used to be an athlete."
"Comes with the pudding,it's very nice" he winked. Then, after a beat, more seriously, he added, "For what it's worth, whatever or whoever made you look like you needed emotional grocery shopping, His loss."
The simplicity of it hit harder than she expected. No demands. No questions. Just… kindness.
"Thanks," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Ethan took another bite of pudding and shrugged like it wasn't a big deal. "Anytime."
For the first time that week, the ache in Amy's chest loosened. Not gone but loosened. Just enough to breathe again.
"Almost forgot the wine" he said as he walks to the cupboard and returns with two simple glasses, clean and tall. "I don't have any fancy wine glasses, I hope that's okay."
Amy gave a little shrug. "These will work. I wasn't exactly expecting anything that needed my approval."
He chuckled and uncorked the bottle, pouring slowly. "You say that, but I have a strong feeling you'd beat me at a blind tasting."
"Only if we were blindfolded," she muttered, catching herself too late. Her cheeks warmed slightly. Why did that sound suggestive?
He handed her a glass. "To awkward neighbors"
She clinked her glass to his with a faint laugh. "To... to awkward neighbours."
They took a sip, silence hanging for a beat not tense, just easy. The kind of silence that didn't demand anything from either of them.
Ethan tilted his head. "You always this generous with your neighbors?"
She glanced down at her glass. "No. Honestly? I don't really know why I came."
"Maybe you just needed a break from your own head." He leaned against the counter. "I get that."
She looked at him, curious.
"I moved here after a rough breakup," he said, as if sensing her question. "Three years ago now. Different city, different home. I told myself it was a fresh start, but really it was just an escape. Took me a while to admit that."
Amy stared into her wine, swirling it absentmindedly. "I thought I had my fresh start already."
"And now?"
She hesitated. "Now it just feels like everything I was building cracked open again."
He didn't respond right away. Instead, he took two spoonful of the pudding. "Wow. This is... honestly pretty good. Is this the heartbreak recipe?"
Amy laughed....really laughed for the first time in what felt like days. "You're impossible."
"I'm not" he laughed then his eyes settled on her again. "But seriously, do whatever that makes you happy.....do you" he added.
His smile didn't press, didn't reach too far. It just offered comfort....simple, warm, unassuming.
Amy sighed, but softer now. "Thanks....thanks for the wine. For the pudding review too" she said smiling.
"What are neighbours for?"he asked rhetorically returning her smile.
Amy traced the rim of her wine glass absentmindedly, then glanced at the time on her phone.
"I should get going," she said, standing. "Didn't mean to hijack your evening."
Ethan stood too, almost too quickly like he didn't want her to leave. "You didn't. I enjoyed the company. It's better than watching cooking shows alone and pretending I can make soufflé."
That made her laugh again.
He walked her to the door as she hugged the pudding container close like some sort of weird shield. "Thanks again. For everything."
He nodded. "Anytime. Seriously. I owe you now for the pudding, by the way".
"It's nothing" She said as she turns and starts walking away.
Ethan rubbed the back of his neck, hesitating just a moment. "Dont be a stranger. Unless that's your thing"
"I won't neighbour" She said smiling without turning back.
"Goodnight, Amy."
"Goodnight Ethan".