I shouldn’t encourage this. I should laugh it off, change the subject, pretend it isn’t making my stomach do backflips.
Instead, I sigh dramatically, resting my chin on my hand. “The first of September.”
Theo nods, keying something into his phone. “Alright. Three weeks from today.”
I lean in slightly, squinting. “What exactly are you putting in there?”
He angles his screen so I can see, and he’s typed:
"Level up! Quest to call Ivy."
I stare at it, something oddly warm curling through my chest.
He meets my gaze, his smirk softening just slightly. “Satisfied?”
I roll my eyes, but my smile betrays me. “You’re such a dork.”
“Yep,” he agrees easily, locking his phone and slipping it back into his pocket. “But now it’s official.”
I shake my head, settling back against the sofa. “What if I change my mind?”
Theo shrugs, completely unbothered. “Then I’ll pretend I set the reminder for something else. Like… reminding you to top up your Oyster card or submit your meter reading.”
I snort. “Oh, romantic.”
He grins. “I try.”
There’s a pause, the easy teasing settling into something more intimate.
His arm is still stretched along the back of the sofa, close enough that I can feel his warmth, and I know if I leaned just a little, I’d be right up against him.
Three weeks.
That’s not long. That’s not long at all.
But right now it feels like forever.
I exhale sharply, forcing a light tone. “Alright, Casanova. Press play before I start reconsidering.”
Theo chuckles, but there’s something in his expression—something knowing—as he reaches for the laptop and does exactly that.
And as the episode starts, I find myself trying to work out how many minutes there are in three weeks.
32
Overthinking Drama Queen
Ivy
Isit across fromPee-Pee, the familiar calm of her office doing little to settle the nerves buzzing in my chest. The end of the dating ban is just days away, and I can’t help but feel like I’m about to be shoved out of a safe little bubble.
“So, Ivy,” Phyllis says, her voice soft but steady, “the dating ban is almost over. How are you feeling about that?”
I let out a long sigh, folding my arms across my chest. “Honestly? It all went wrong. Every part of it.”
Pee-Pee raises an eyebrow, not buying it for a second. “Really? All of it? Sounds a bit dramatic to me. I wouldn’t be so quick to call it a disaster.”
I’m about to protest, but she holds up a hand, clearly ready to continue. “You’ve told me about the yoga and the clay. Those didn’t go perfectly, but they also didn’t go as badly as you’re making them sound. You’ve made progress.”
