to her desk and Zane went home shortly after we finished eating, leaving me alone to do my favorite part of my job. The books and their nearly finished states. Pages and pages of almost complete manuscripts, just waiting for their turn to be printed, bound and placed on a shelf ready for the world's consumption.

And I get to be a small part of that process. The first to witness characters' flaws, their problems, and their journeys. I get to help their creators create something complete. I help them come alive to become someone's favorite character. Someone's favorite book. Someone's safe place. Someone's best friend.

Pain and misery fill my soul in his absence. I've tried to move on from him. To act like I haven't been living in a constant cycle of wondering when he'll be back. I want to forget he ever existed. That he ever had a place in my heart, but I can't.

My life has been about him, and only him, for so long that when he left, nothing else mattered. Nothing else will matter because I'm addicted. No matter how bad he is for me. I can't kick the habit of wanting him.

I want him.

The good, the bad, and the ugly.

I want it all.

I'm addicted to the sound of his voice. I'm addicted to waiting for him to come back to me. He's all I can hope for. That one day, he'll realize what a mistake it was to leave and he'll come back. And I'm afraid I won't ever be able to let go of that hope.

That I'll wait for him forever. I'll wait with my arms wide open, hoping he'll come back to me and everything else won't matter. It won't have mattered that he colored outside the lines, because he'll be in my arms again.

A small knock on the door breaks me from my trance, and Maggie opens it a second later. "Hey Em," she says, smiling weakly as she holds the doorknob with a loose grip. "You almost ready to go?"

"You go ahead," I say, resting my chin in the palm of my hand as I look at her. "I'm going to stay for a little while longer," I explain and see her lips part, ready to argue with me. "And before you say anything, I'm not overworking myself. I was out of it all morning and didn't get to finish this."

"You sure?"

I nod. "Yes."

"You're avoiding Luke, aren't you?" she asks, stepping into my office as she walks over.

"No, I'm working," I tell her, leaning back in my chair. "Luke's... another problem that I'll deal with when I see him."

She sighs and I know she wants to say something, but whatever it is, she holds her tongue and wraps her arms around me from behind. "Okay, I love you," she says. "Text me when you get home so I know you're safe."

"I love you, too," I say and squeeze her hand. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

"10:00am sharp." She nods in agreement, giving me one last squeeze before she leaves.

My eyes move back to the pages in front of me, ready to engross myself in the world of a forbidden love and try my hardest not to let Luke creep back into my thoughts. I want what I told Maggie to be true, for work to be the reason I'm staying, but I can't hide the truth from myself. I'm hoping the longer I stay here, the less likely I'll be to see him when I finally get home.

And I know how stupid my logic is, because even if I don't see him, I'll hear him or he'll hear me when I get home. Our apartments are basically shoeboxes, and the small amount of space between our doors doesn't leave much room for discretion. Even if I could get in and out of my apartment without him hearing me, I'm kidding myself if I think I won't ever run into him in the hall ever again. We're neighbors and that's not going to change.

Reaching over, I grab my pink highlighter out of the holder on the desk and pull open my top drawer. The leather-bound journal I've had since I was sixteen sits on the top, full of all the lines that have made my heart skip its beat. The chain of words that made my world spin a little faster. The lines that made the fairytale worth being envious over.

All the words I've fallen in love with over the years.

Dragging my highlighter over the last line in the passage, I grab my pen and dot down some notes of appraisal for the author before copying the words into my journal. I cap my highlighter, pressing my thumb into the top as I curl it into my fist and dive back into another world far away from here.

It's easy to get lost in problems that aren't mine where the consequences of indecisiveness have no real gravity. I can judge without being judged back. I can call them out for being childish, knowing full well I'm a hypocrite in my own life. In between these pages, I'm a shadow, getting to watch and I wish more than anything that I never had to leave.

I could just jump story to story instead of having to go back to my own life where things are less than ideal, but unfortunately, I can only run for so long before I have to face my problems. And when I hear the last junior editor leave, I'm left with the knot that I can't hide out in my office forever. Eventually I have to face the music.

Tucking the fully finished manuscript into my desk, I shut down my computer and put everything back into its place before standing up. I grab my coat off the chair, pulling it on before grabbing my bag from its cabinet. The lights have already dimmed as I step out of my office and into the bullpen, taking my time as I head for the elevators.

The white floor has hints of black marbling, complimenting the overall modern look of the lobby and office. Everything is clean and crisp, with white and black tones, complimented by shades of blue matching our logo and brand. My lips curl up as I take in the place that's become home to me, the only place I felt safe after everything with Charlie and what I never wanted to admit, the only place I felt at home when I was with Charlie.

The elevator door slides open with a ding behind me and I step inside, pressing the button for the ground floor before sinking into the back wall as the weight of the day falls onto my shoulder. I close my eyes with a soft sigh as I rest my head back against the wall, tucking my hands under my arms as I cross them over my chest.

"Hold the door!"

At the plea, I step forward and rest my hand in front of the door as it starts to slide shut to hold it open. My lips curling up in a greeting smile as Clark steps onto the elevator with me, readjusting the long leather strap of his briefcase on his shoulder.

"Wheeler, why am I not surprised you're the last one here?" he asks as we lean into the elevator door. "You're young! Nothing better to do on a Friday night?"

I shrug and hug my coat tighter around my waist. "In all honesty, I was trying to avoid going home," I admit to him and feel a small weight lift off my chest.

He gives me a somber look before saying, "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, everything's fine," I assure him. "Just boy drama."

"Ah! I remember the days of boy drama." He sighs, as if I've replayed a fond memory before playing with the gold band around his fingers. "Anything I can do to help? I've had a few years of practice."

I shake my head. "I don't want to bore you with my problems."

"Impossible," he assures me. "But I understand not wanting to share with your old boss."

"It's not that," I say, shaking my head at him. "I'm just still trying to figure it out for myself."

He nods as the elevator doors open, and we step out. "Okay, but Emery, for what it's worth, you're an incredible young woman," he says. "Any man would be lucky to have even an ounce of your attention."

"Thank you," I say. "That means a lot coming from you, Clark."

His lips curl up as we approach the doors. "You're welcome and if you change your mind about wanting to talk, my door's always open, okay?"

I nod. "Have a good night."

"You too."

Clark gives me a wave before heading in the opposite direction, and I find myself standing outside the building, waiting to catch my breath. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath of the cool New York air and remind myself that even if I don't have it figured out right now, I will. I always figure it out and Luke is no different. He's just one more obstacle to overcome and I've had to overcome worse.

With one more deep breath, I stand a little taller and head toward the subway.