Unexpected Buyer Part 1
Felicia folded her arms, the crisp autumn air doing nothing to cool the irritation simmering in her chest. The open house behind her buzzed with polite laughter and clinking glasses, but out here, it was just her and the past she’d worked hard to bury.
“Desmond, you don’t get to just show up,” she said quietly, through clenched teeth. “Not here. Not now.”
He ran a hand over his face, the same nervous habit she used to soften for. “I know I messed up. I know I hurt you. But I never got to tell you why. I just need five minutes, Felicia. That’s all.”
She scoffed. “You had two years. Two years of silence. Now suddenly you’ve got explanations?”
“I wasn’t okay,” he admitted. “I was spiraling. Losing you made it worse. I didn’t know how to come back.”
Felicia’s jaw tightened. The words tugged at something fragile, something she didn’t want to acknowledge. “And you think showing up at my job, in front of my clients, is the right way?”
“I didn’t know where else to find you,” he said softly. “You blocked me everywhere.”
“Because I needed peace,” she snapped. “I built something without you. I’m finally standing on my own, and you think you can just walk back into my life like nothing happened?”
Desmond took a step closer, careful, like he was approaching a wounded animal. “I don’t think nothing happened. I think everything happened. And I’m still here, feeling it.”
For a split second, Felicia’s eyes betrayed her. Then she straightened. “You don’t get to feel it out loud anymore. I’ve got a house to sell.”
She turned back toward the door, heels clicking against the stone patio, but Desmond’s voice followed her.
“Felicia… if you walk away now, you’re walking away for good.”
Her hand hovered over the door handle.
And for the first time since he’d spoken her name, she didn’t look so sure.
The parking lot had emptied out, leaving only the hum of distant traffic and the soft glow of streetlights reflecting off the windshield. Felicia turned the key again.
Nothing.
Not even a click.
“Of course,” she muttered, pressing her forehead briefly to the steering wheel. Her phone buzzed with a missed call from her assistant, but she ignored it and tried once more. The engine stayed dead, stubborn and silent.
She leaned back in her seat, exhaling sharply. The day had already wrung her dry—Desmond, the open house, the emotional whiplash of seeing someone who once knew her so well. Now this.
Felicia opened the door and stepped out, heels crunching against loose gravel. She popped the hood even though she barely knew what she was looking at. Just staring at the dark tangle of metal made her feel small and frustrated.
A car slowed at the entrance of the lot.
Her shoulders tensed immediately.
The headlights swept across her, and her heart sank when she recognized the shape of the sedan pulling in.
Desmond.
He rolled down his window. “Your car okay?”
Felicia’s stomach twisted. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“I wasn’t following you,” he said quickly. “I was leaving too. I saw you stuck.”
“I don’t need your help,” she said, even though her voice wavered.
“You look like you do.”
She crossed her arms. “This doesn’t mean anything, Desmond. This is just bad timing.”
He parked and got out anyway. “I’ll just take a look. Then I’ll go.”
He leaned under the hood, the streetlight casting shadows across his face. For a moment, neither of them spoke. The air between them felt heavy, like everything unsaid was pressing down at once.
After a beat he straightened. “Battery’s dead.”
Felicia laughed humorlessly. “Figures.”
“I can jump it. I’ve got cables.”
She hesitated. Every instinct told her to say no, to keep her distance. But standing alone in a dark parking lot with a dead car wasn’t exactly winning either.
“Fine,” she said. “But after that, you’re gone.”
Desmond nodded. “After that, I’m gone.”
Yet the way he looked at her made it clear… neither of them believed that.
Desmond’s thumb lingered at the curve of her neck, warm and familiar, sending a shiver down her spine. Felicia’s breath caught, her body reacting before her mind could catch up.
“Desmond…” she whispered again, softer this time, not quite a warning anymore.
“I know,” he said quietly, his forehead resting against hers. “We shouldn’t be here. But we are.”
The tension between them felt electric, all the things they’d never said crackling in the small space between their faces. Felicia nodded, her eyes fluttering shut for just a second, letting herself feel what she’d been pretending didn’t exist.
Then she pulled back just enough to look at him.
“This doesn’t erase what you did,” she said, voice trembling but firm. “Wanting you doesn’t mean I forgot.”
Desmond swallowed. “I’m not asking you to forget. I’m asking you to let me prove I’m not that guy anymore.”
Her heart pounded. Part of her wanted to step away, to climb into her car and drive off once it was running. Another part—the one he’d just touched awake—was tired of pretending she didn’t still care.
The cables clicked into place behind them, the jumper car humming.
Felicia took a slow breath. “Start the car, ” she said. “Then we’ll see what happens next.”
Desmond met her eyes, something hopeful flickering there, as he reached for the hood latch.
The night wasn’t done with them yet.