Chapter 2

The year-end project had me slammed, running back to back every day, practically living at the office.

The renovation of the new place I handed over entirely to Ivan.

Every day he'd send me a few close-up shots of the work on my messages and report in.

"Plumbing and wiring are done."

"Tiling today. The guy's got good hands."

Looking at the photos, the weight in my chest finally settled.

Then came the day they laid the wood flooring. I zoomed in on the photo of the second bedroom he'd sent, and my brow tightened.

"Ivan, why aren't the baseboards fully installed in the second bedroom? There's this big gap left open."

If the plan was a floor-to-ceiling bookcase along the whole wall, there was no way the baseboard at the bottom would be left with a strange gap like that.

He fired back a voice message right away, sounding completely at ease:

"Oh, that. The guy said there was a little measurement error in the build, so he hasn't finished up yet. He'll patch it in a couple of days. Just focus on your work, leave it to me."

I was exhausted. Looking at his sure, steady reply, I didn't think about it any further.

I closed my eyes, and my head filled with that study that was about to be mine.

No one knew how deep my obsession with having a space of my own ran.

The year I turned twelve, I saved a whole year of allowance and bought myself a little desk.

But not a week later, my mother moved it into my sister's room.

"You can do your homework anywhere. Give the desk to your sister, she needs it to practice her handwriting."

At twenty-two, the year I was studying for grad-school entrance exams, I crammed in a corner of the living room.

My sister sat on the couch with the TV turned up as loud as it would go.

I begged her to turn it down. She said I was being annoying and ripped up the study materials I'd stayed up all night organizing.

Staring at the shredded paper all over the floor, I confronted her, my eyes red.

But my mother yanked me away, her face full of irritation:

"What's the big deal! You're the older sister, you should give in to your sister. A harmonious home makes everything work."

From that day on I swore I'd buy my own place.

I wanted a room that belonged only to me, even if it was just one square meter, and no one would ever touch it.

This place, bought outright in cash, was the territory I'd nearly killed myself to earn.

Friday, the project wrapped early.

For once I got off work at five.

I couldn't hold down the excitement. I didn't call Ivan, I just grabbed a cab straight to the new place.

I wanted to see the study I'd been longing for with my own eyes.

The moment I reached the base of the building, I ran right into Ivan out front, smoking.

When he saw me, he froze hard, the cigarette in his hand giving a little jump.

"Millie? What are you doing here?"

"I got off early. Came up to check on the progress."

I smiled and started toward the entrance.

But he grabbed my arm and held on tight.

"Don't go up!"

There was an edge of urgency in his voice.

I stopped short:

"What is it?"

His eyes darted away. He gave a dry little laugh and pulled hard to drag me back out:

"They just painted today, the fumes in there are way too strong, and the floor's covered in dust. Your airways are sensitive as it is. What if you get a reaction?"

"Be good. Once it's all done, I'll give you an absolute surprise. Come on, I'll take you to that sushi place you love."

He bundled me into a cab without another word.

Looking at his thoughtful profile, that last thread of doubt in me was gone for good.