Chapter 1

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ELENORA

I did it, I survived.

I proudly step out of the elevator into the main lobby. We don't need to talk about the mini breakdown that took place minutes after I walked into my apartment; if no one saw it, it didn't happen, right? I finally understand that old philosophical question: if a tree falls down and no one is there to hear it, does it make a sound?

Listen to you, Nora, you're becoming a freaking philosopher. Ha!

"Bye, Elenora!" Ruben the day-doorman calls out to me as I rush past him. I'm fully taking advantage of the fact that he's currently trying to mediate between two squabbling tenants fighting over stolen mail.

I love Ruben, I do. But knowing his nosey ass, he'll ask questions. Questions I don't want to answer. Questions that will lead to me becoming a puffy-eyed, sniveling, cliché. Nope. Not today Satan!

Sure, keep telling yourself that. Fake it till you make it—has worked so well for you.

I really hate my subconscious. When I need to figure shit out I get the silent treatment, and on days like today, there's no off-switch.

"See ya, Ruben!" I gather up my weeks worth of mail I left on the lobby desk earlier after checking my mailbox. Ruben happened to be on the phone then, but as soon as I heard him address Mrs. Jones, my elderly—gives unsolicited advice any chance she gets—neighbor across the hall, I knew I was saved from another interrogation.

I step out onto the sidewalk, taking a huge breath. A smile spreads on my face, soaking the last bit of warmth for the day as the sun is setting, painting the sky in orange and pink hues. My recent hermit-like lifestyle has kept me from getting any natural vitamin D. I shift the stack of mail in my arms as pedestrians bump into me rushing to their destinations.

"I was about to come get you, your pops called asking if we were heading back yet." Carlo, my parents' main driver, snubs out his cigarette against the building and throws the stub in the ash receptacle. "Damn girl, I thought you had your mail forwarded while you were staying with your parents?" He observes the obscene amount of mail in my hands.

"I forgot," I shrug. "I have most of my bills set up to pay online; so a lot of this is junk." He opens the back passenger door to the large, black SUV with tinted windows for me to get in.

"Nora, wait!" Ruben runs towards us with a large envelope in his hands. He doubles over, holding his knees, wheezing. You'd think he ran a few blocks instead of only thirty feet from the lobby. He straightens holding his side, panting. "This came for you while you were in your apartment. I nearly forgot because of the squawking old hens I had to keep from throwin' hands at each other."

I take the envelope and immediately notice the missing return address. "Did this come from the post office?"

Ruben wipes at his forehead. "Courier service. The idiot thought I had to tip him, but I was like 'oh, no honey, that's not how this works; you're giving it to me to deliver for you.'" His heavy New York accent coming in thick.

I chuckle. "Thanks."

"No, problem. It's been a long three months without seeing your smiling face, chica." He smiles.

"Well, you'll see more of me after this weekend. I'm moving back."

I drop the mail in my hands to cover my ears at the over the top scream he lets out. Passerby's side-eye him, but being in New York, most people keep walking, like it didn't happen. "I can't wait, girl! See you later, guapo!" Ruben winks at Carlo, who grunts in response as he bends down to pick up some of the mail on the curb and hands it to me before he shuts the car door. (handsome)

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