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"Everything I want to say / I swallow"
- Lyric Hunter

Holland

A rainy Spring evening has me busying myself with trivial tasks around the store in the absence of customers that the weekends usually bring.

I restock some of the popular books at the front table, making mental notes of what seems to be doing well and what's lagging in sales.

Unsurprisingly, romance has been a best-seller. It's had a huge uptick recently, teenagers and full grown women alike subscribing to it-understandably so. Its nice to get lost in a made-up world where girl and boy make it work against all odds. A world where second chances work out and they live happily ever after and ride off into the sunset.

People love it because that's just not how life works.

Reality is harsh and unrelenting. At least, that's how it is for me.

I see a tall, brunette figure looming by the doorway, hand in hand with a blonde little girl. And now my reality is my ex here yet again. It's strange seeing him now-just last night my cheek was pressed to his sturdy chest and everything felt like it would be okay in a momentary lapse of judgement.

I try to make myself seem especially busy, knowing he's here. Like maybe if I ignore his presence hard enough, he'll disappear.

Unfortunately, that doesn't work because I hear Ivy's sweet voice cut through the music that's playing. "Holland!" She shouts, running up to me with a vigor that only little kids possess. Joy radiates off her small body, infecting me with it as I peer down to her body that's squeezing my leg now. The dimples I used to know so well create the most endearing indents on her cute face, honey curls pulled into a sleek ponytail.

"Hi, Ivy," I greet her, patting her her arm.

She finally eases up on the death grip she has on me leg. "Sorry about that," Harry says with a laugh, trailing behind his daughter. His slow steps intentional, like he's being extra cautious around me.

"No need to apologize, it's nice having someone besides my cat excited to see me," I joke.

"I'm always excited to see you," I hear Harry mumble, barely audible. I'm not sure if he meant for me to hear that or not, so I ignore it.

"Ah! You have a kitty?" Ivy exclaims.

Harry's unreadable eyes turn all soft, gazing at us. I catch it in my peripheral vision, like a golden warmth that radiates from his irises and begs to be noticed. I try not to linger on it too long-afraid of what happens when enveloped in his light.

I focus on Ivy, big turquoise eyes and heart-shaped lips that are spread into a wide grin. "I do have a kitty! Her name is Cherry," I explain.

"It's really fluffy and white. Looks like a little cloud," Harry tells her.

"You saw the kitty, daddy?" Ivy tugs at his arm and I just eye him, remembering that he was in my house last night and met my beloved feline friend.

He's unsure of how to proceed, probably not wanting Ivy to be aware of what transpired last night and under what circumstances he met her. It's difficult territory to navigate with a child. "I did. She's very cute." He leaves it short and sweet. Thank god. Not that I actually think Harry would divulge all of that onto a three year old. But still, I'm grateful for his willing discretion.

She wears the expression of someone who's just found out the best news of their life.

Oh to be young and so easily impressed.

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