Since I don't know when I'll get back to LOP, I thought I'd give you Terry's POV so you can make sense of that "cliffhanger" that was not a "cliffhanger" lol. And I promise it's not going to be a miscommunication trope, I don't like them, but Terry needs to keep wondering a little before they talk to MC. 🫡
Also, I'm using My MC, Ella Woods, since this is not coded. Enjoy!
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Now Playing As Terry...
Monday couldn’t come fast enough. After spending half of Sunday night listening to Xander ramble and the other half lying in that huge bed alone because Ella left with Barbara, the silence started to feel like punishment. She sent two words—I left—and nothing after that.
You step onto the 14th floor and automatically glance through the glass offices. Ella’s is dark, chair pushed in, no sign of her bag or coat. Maybe she’s in an early meeting with Barbara. Maybe. You tell yourself that twice as you walk toward the elevator, trying not to think about the more obvious interpretation: she wanted distance. From you.
The elevator doors slide shut, and your reflection stares back at you, looking far too tense for a Monday morning. Why did she leave without saying anything? Did you push too far? Did admitting how long you’ve wanted to kiss her—wanted her—send her running?
The doors open on the 17th floor, and you head straight to Drew’s office. She’s pacing with a deposition in hand, too focused to notice the door until you’re already inside.
“Any news from Ella?” The question slips out before you can catch it.
Drew stops mid-step. Her eyes lift slowly, zeroing in on you like she’s discovered a new species. “Ella?” she repeats, dragging the name out just enough to make your face burn.
You blink, swallow, try to fix it. “Sorry. I meant Woods.”
Her smirk says she doesn’t believe you for a second. “You call her Ella now?”
Your brain scrambles for an excuse—think of something, anything. “Because of you, we spent the whole weekend pretending to be married,” you say, trying to sound casual. “Calling her 'Woods' in front of the Voltaires would’ve been… weird.”
Drew taps the deposition against her leg, studying you. For a moment, you’re sure she’s going to call your bluff. But then she nods, almost reluctantly. “True.”
You exhale and drop into the chair across from her, still running on too little sleep. Drew circles the desk and sits, giving you a quick once-over.
“So, congratulations are in order, I guess?” she says.
You lift an eyebrow. “Congratulations?”
She gives you a look like she can’t believe you’re slow. “The case, Terry. The Voltaires. The divorce isn’t finalized, so the firm still has a shot at keeping one of them as a client.”
“Oh. That.” You shift in the chair, suddenly aware of how tired you are. “So you did talk to… Woods.”
“I talked to Xander this morning,” Drew says, correcting you gently. “He’s not thrilled that Ella brought up Luna, but he still wants you to represent him. Barbara is sticking with Ella.”
You blink. “Wait—so you knew about Luna?”
Drew hesitates, then nods. “It’s none of my business, but I can respect that Ella used it as leverage. It was a good tactic.”
You nod, though you’re not convinced that’s what Ella was doing. It felt less like strategy and more like she genuinely needed answers. But you won’t know until you actually talk to her—whenever that’s supposed to happen.
Drew leans back, a slow smile spreading across her face. “So? How was your phone call with 'Sara'?”
The awkward conversation you had with your “match” flashes through your mind, and you glare at Drew. “Why did you even do that?” you ask, dragging a hand over your temples.
She just laughs. “What? You said no blind dates. You never said anything about a dating profile.”
“Right,” you mutter. “Because I totally didn't expect my sister to steal a picture of me in my SpongeBob pajamas, make a profile, match with some woman, and pretend to be me for an entire conversation.”
Drew grins, not the least bit sorry. “Please. You’d never put yourself out there, so I did it for you. I made the profile the day you and Ella left for the island, matched with Sara, and kicked things off. Honestly, I nailed it. I described you perfectly.”
“You said I like jazz and romantic comedies and drinks after work.”
She nods proudly. “Exactly.”
“That’s not me.”
“Yes, it is,” she fires back. “And give me a little credit. I stopped texting once she sent her number. I forwarded you the link, didn’t I? That was me being respectful.”
You stare at her. “I had to apologize to a complete stranger because you were catfishing them as me. And just so you know, I’m deleting that profile.”
“Don’t delete it,” she protests, sitting up straighter. “Terry, come on. She seemed nice!”
“She thinks I like romantic comedies.”
Drew waves a hand. “That’s fixable.”
You groan. You don’t want to get matched with Sara, or anyone else, really. The only person you want is… You cut the thought off when Drew’s phone buzzes. She checks the screen and frowns.
“Great. Xander’s on his way to see you. Reach out to Ella, get an update on where things stand with Barbara, and since you two are still married, keep up the façade.”
Still married.
The words sound weird. Hopeful and pathetic all at once. You have no idea if Ella even wants to be “married” to you in any sense, not after the I left text. But you don’t say anything. You just stand, smoothing down your clothes, hoping Drew doesn’t notice how scrambled your thoughts are—or that all of it has to do with one lawyer who has no idea what she’s doing to you.
What text are you sending to Terry?