I tap my pencil on a blank sheet of paper, only half-engaged in the conversation happening before me. My thoughts wander elsewhere, drifting away from the present.

"... And we think you should be his editor, Jane..." The words barely register. My mind is still distant, detached from the discussion. My focus lies elsewhere.

It has been a few months since David and I moved in together. We made the decision to cohabit in order to deepen our understanding before taking the next step. Initially, everything seemed perfect, and happiness radiated through our lives. Then, I landed a job as an editor at this prestigious publishing company, creating a seemingly seamless path for us.

Or so it appeared, at least for the first few months...

"Jane!" Suraya's voice snaps me back to reality. I refocus my attention on her.

"If you say so..."

"Are you sure? Have you really thought it through?" Suraya asks, her face reflecting genuine concern.

Truth be told, I have no idea what they're discussing. Remember, my mind was lost in another world just moments ago?

"Why shouldn't I? If it helps solve our problem..."

"So you agree to be Mr. Black's editor?" Suraya mentions the name, and my heart sinks. Black? Yura Black, the notoriously difficult and bestselling novelist?

Oh, how I might regret this decision...

"How much trouble could he possibly cause? Most novelists have their quirks. They work under immense pressure, constantly chasing deadlines. Who enjoys being chased 24/7?" I attempt to rationalize his behavior, trying to align my thoughts with the situation at hand.

"I hope you won't regret it later," Eric, my fellow editor, remarks. We work together, overseeing the writers, authors, and novelists, ensuring they meet deadlines and produce high-quality books.

"I'll give it my all. After all, he is a bestselling novelist. We can't simply let him slip away," I respond with determination.

"Alright, if that's what you want. I rest my case, Your Honor!" I chuckle, teasing Suraya as she exits the room.

"Be careful, Jane. You have no idea how difficult Black can be. Most of his editors quit halfway, calling him an insufferable pain in the ass," Eric pours a cup of coffee for me. I accept it gratefully and take a sip, gazing out the window.

The rain has persisted for the past two days, casting a damp and gloomy atmosphere, much like the state of my heart. Perhaps I need a distraction, something to momentarily forget the pain.

"It's fine. If he wants to run, how far can he really go?" I smile, meeting Eric's eyes.

"For the record, the farthest he's ever been is Milan," we chuckle together. I'm not sure what's so amusing about it, but we both agree that nothing should be taken too seriously.

"How's Dave?" his question hits me like a weight.

"Well, he's still Dave..."

"Of course, he's Dave. Last time I checked, he hadn't transformed into Dove or Debbie," he jokes, sensing the thoughts that weigh on my mind.

"Did you guys resolve it?" I keep my lips sealed, my smile carrying a touch of sadness.

"He continues to grow distant from me. I've tried my best to understand why. But it feels like a futile use of my time," I drop the pencil onto my desk.

A few weeks ago, David suddenly changed. He started spending a lot of time outside and returning home late. I can't bring myself to ask him why. It would only be a waste of time, for both of us.

"You can't just let him slip away like that! Talk to him. Confront him! Ask him! Don't let things spiral out of control," Eric urges, sharing his piece of mind. Being married for a while has turned him into a wise man.

"Has Joshua ever acted like this towards you?" I inquire.

"No, but we still have our fair share of fights like any normal couple. It's a daily challenge. But what matters most is that at the end of the day... we sit down and talk. He listens, I listen. I talk, he listens. Communication is vital in any relationship," he speaks the truth.

Communication and trust are the foundations that must be upheld.

"I have so much to learn from you, sensei!" he chuckled as I took a bow, expressing my respect for his wisdom.

"Remind me again, when and why did I end up becoming Black's editor?" Curiosity and nervousness begin to stir within me.

"His editor quit, once again! Black filed a report claiming that his editor was stalking him. The poor man nearly ended up in jail!"

My eyes widened in disbelief.

"Do you feel any regret now?"

"Sort of... but meh! I have Frank, so no worries. He's the best lawyer in town!" It's a relief to have a powerful backup. I know I can rely on my friends if I ever find myself in trouble.

"Speaking of Frank, I think you should ask him about Dave. Who knows, he might know something?"

It sounds like a good plan, but I don't want to burden my friends. This problem could put them in difficult and awkward situations since they are also friends with David.

"I will, when I've had enough of it," I replied.

We resumed our discussion after a short break. I need to distract myself so I won't dwell too deeply on the problem. To put my mind at ease, I choose to believe that David must have had a rough day at work.

That's it. Now, it's time to get back to work before I make any more hasty decisions, Jane!

***

I find myself unable to sleep once again. As is becoming my routine, I end up on the couch, surrounded by manuscripts, trying to distract myself. It's nearly one in the morning, and David still hasn't returned home. I let out a heavy sigh, placing the manuscript on the table and removing my glasses.

What went wrong between us? Where did we make a misstep? Are we truly in love with each other? Am I failing as a girlfriend? Why is he behaving like this? Countless questions swirl in my mind, causing a wave of regret for moving in together. It seems like our decision has only created an uncomfortable distance between us.

I reach for my phone, contemplating calling him. But then I hesitate and put it back down. It's not my style to demand his whereabouts. I am not in a position to control him just because we're in a relationship. That's not who I am. I've placed a great deal of trust in him, and I will never betray it.

But sometimes, we need to show that we care. Because I do love him. So much.

With that in mind, I decide to text him, asking where he is and reminding him to drive safely. A few minutes later, I hear the sound of an engine.

He's finally home.

I try to act nonchalant, hoping he won't notice my anxiety. I pick up the manuscript and place it on my lap, pretending to read.

"Oh, you're home!" I say as he looks at me with weary eyes. He walks past me toward the kitchen. Quickly, I rise from my seat and join him.

"Are you hungry? I can make you something..."

"I already ate, thanks," he replies, excusing himself to our bedroom. I follow him, but he ignores me. When I reach our shared bedroom, he disappears into the shower. I wait on the bed for a moment. He emerges ten minutes later, going through his nightly routine.

"Are you tired?" I ask, slowly embracing him from behind. I attempt to kiss him, but he brushes me away.

"Dave, what's wrong? What happened to you?" My voice trembles, and tears well up in my eyes. But he continues to ignore me, lying down and pulling the duvet up to his chest.

"Baby..."

"I'm tired. Please close the door if you go outside," he mutters, his words cutting deep. Only God knows the pain I feel at this moment. He closes his eyes, leaving me hanging there like a fool.

Slowly, I retreat from the room, my heart shattered. Descending the stairs, I grab my manuscript and enter my home office. I toss the papers onto the table and sink into the chair. Tears stream down my face as I cry silently, alone in the darkness.

Why are you doing this to me, Dave? Where did we go wrong?