Eleanor
I was already curled up in my bed, legs tangled beneath the light sheets, the faint glow of my phone illuminating my face in the otherwise dim room when I heard the knock; that soft, measured kind of knock that didn’t come from impatience or frustration but rather from someone who was trying to be polite, careful even, someone who knew this wasn’t their space to invade unless invited in, and for half a second, my heart gave a little ridiculous flutter, because the first person who came to mind wasn’t Ms. Rhea, it was Nathan.
Of course it was Nathan.
I didn’t even pause to check, didn’t glance at the clock or the door, just called out casually, “Come in,” with a kind of ease I didn’t even know I had around him until now; until lately, until the moments started adding up, the stol
