THE MAN I WAS NEVER SUPPOSED TO LOVE

CHAPTER 1: THE WRONG NIGHT Caroline shoved the door open with her shoulder, plastic bags cutting into her fingers. The apartment smelled like Justin’s cologne and old takeout. “Justin, I’m home!” Nothing. She dropped the bags by the wall and kicked the door shut harder than she needed to. “You won’t believe the day I’ve had.” Still quiet. She walked further in, already halfway into the rant she was going to dump on him, when she stopped. There was a guy standing in the living room. Tall. Dark hair that looked like he’d run his hands through it a few times. Same sharp jaw she used to make fun of when they were younger, only now it belonged to someone who clearly wasn’t a teenager anymore. He turned and smiled when he saw her. “Hi, Care.” Her stomach did something stupid. “Noah.” The name came out smaller than she wanted. She hadn’t seen him since he left for university abroad. Years. And somehow she still knew every line of his face. “I wasn’t sure you’d recognise me,” he said. “I almost didn’t.” She let out a short, awkward laugh. “You look… different.” “Good different or bad different?” She didn’t get to answer. Footsteps on the stairs. Justin appeared, pulling on a jacket. “Caroline. You’re back.” His eyes moved between the two of them, then settled on her the way they always did when he was checking if she was okay. “You’ve met Noah. We’re heading out. I’ll be late. Don’t wait up.” “I won’t.” Justin clapped Noah on the shoulder. “Spare key’s still under the plant. And don’t let her talk you into staying up watching trash TV.” Noah’s mouth twitched. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” They left. The door clicked shut and the quiet hit her harder than she expected. Caroline stood there for a second, then went upstairs. She needed to talk to someone before the day sat on her chest any longer. She called Ari. No answer. Typical. She opened their chat and started typing before she could stop herself. **Ari. Worst day. I need to scream. Also I think I killed a puppy with my shopping bags and now I’m a horrible person.** Send. She tossed the phone on the bed and pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes. The breakup with Elvis was still sitting under her ribs like something she kept poking. She hadn’t planned on telling anyone yet. Not even Ari. But it was leaking out anyway. Her phone buzzed. She grabbed it, expecting Ari’s usual chaos. Instead: **A puppy? Jesus. Did you at least give it a proper funeral?** Caroline blinked. Another message came in straight after. **Also I’m pretty sure I’m not Ari.** Her stomach dropped. She checked the number. One digit wrong. Of course. **Oh my god. I’m so sorry. Wrong number.** **It’s fine. Though I’m weirdly invested in the puppy now. Was it dramatic? Slow motion? Tiny last words?** A surprised laugh came out of her before she could stop it. **Instant and tragic. I nearly cried in the middle of the street.** **Respect. Soft heart. Dangerous combo.** She hesitated, then typed: **You’re not going to tell me I should watch where I’m walking?** **Nah. I’m just glad the little guy got a decent send-off. Rest in peace.** Caroline found herself smiling at the screen. She almost put the phone down. Almost. **Thanks for not making me feel like a complete idiot.** **Anytime. For what it’s worth, whoever Ari is… she’s missing some quality trauma-bonding tonight.** She bit the inside of her cheek and locked the phone. The shower helped a bit. Hot water, steam, the noise of it. But when she got out, the quiet came back. Elvis’s last words were still floating around in her head — tired, final, done. She didn’t want to sit with them. She made scrambled eggs she barely tasted, poured juice she didn’t finish, and curled up on the sofa with the TV on low. At some point her eyes closed. — The next thing she felt was movement. Arms under her. A steady heartbeat against her side. The smell of clean soap and something darker that felt familiar in a way she couldn’t place. She was too far gone to open her eyes, but some part of her registered how carefully she was carried up the stairs, how gently she was set down on her own bed, the soft click of the lamp turning off. Downstairs, Justin watched Noah come back into the living room. “You actually took her up.” Noah shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. “You told her not to stay up. She clearly listened.” Justin’s mouth twitched, then flattened. “Don’t get any ideas. She’s seeing someone. It’s getting serious.” Noah looked at him. “Care’s like a sister to me. You know that.” Justin held his gaze a second longer, then nodded. “Spare room’s ready. I’m turning in.” Alone, Noah sat on the edge of the sofa and let his head drop back. Twenty-two. She was twenty-two now. He could still picture the lanky kid who used to steal his chips and argue about everything. The woman he’d just carried upstairs was someone else completely. He let out a long breath, stood up, and went to the spare room before the thought could go any further. — Sometime after midnight Caroline woke up thirsty. She stumbled to the bathroom, drank from the tap, and only then realised she was in her own bed. Last thing she remembered was the sofa. Justin must have carried her up. She climbed back under the covers, pulled them up to her chin, and closed her eyes. She didn’t let herself think too hard about why the arms that had held her had felt so familiar. Or why the thought made something shift, quiet and uncomfortable, under her ribs.