Chapter 5: Ribbons of Hope and Heartbreak

I couldn’t help but laugh. Cats, humans—we’re all the same when it comes to love.

On the sofa, the two cats snuggled together. Biscuit nuzzled Daisy, occasionally licking her soft fur.

It was so sweet, it almost gave me a toothache. I snapped a picture, already planning to send it to Ethan.

Hmm.

It’s almost too much to watch.

But honestly, Biscuit and Daisy really do look alike. If I hadn’t picked up Biscuit at my door, I’d have thought they were a couple from the start.

Maybe it’s true what they say—couples start to resemble each other, no matter the species.

Turns out, couples really do look alike, no matter the species.

I made a mental note to look for old couples on park benches, just to test the theory.

Soon, the two cats fell asleep together, cuddled up.

Watching this, I couldn’t help but look at the little angel statue placed in the prime spot on my bookshelf.

He sat there, serene and smug, as if he’d orchestrated the whole thing.

"Everyone says you’re effective. Are you sure you didn’t mishear? I asked you to tie the red thread for Harper and Ethan, not Biscuit and Daisy!"

I wagged a finger at the statue, half-joking, half-serious. “You’ve got one job, little guy! If anyone saw me talking to a statue, they’d think I was nuts.”

As soon as I finished, my phone on the coffee table chimed.

It startled me so much I almost dropped Daisy.

It was a Facebook Messenger notification.

Of course, it had to be Messenger. The one app I never delete, just in case something life-changing comes through.

I glanced at the screen listlessly, then couldn’t help but cry out.

My heart leaped into my throat. Could it be?

That pinned chat, the one I’d opened and stared at countless times before backing out, the avatar that never posted updates, was alive!

My hands shook as I picked up the phone.

I checked several times—it was really Ethan. The profile picture was a photo of Daisy.

[Working late tonight. Daisy doesn’t like canned food. Elevator and home code: 0915.]

I stared at this message for a full ten minutes, still in shock.

He trusted me with his cat. And his home code. Was this real life?

Ethan actually gave me his home code. I’m going to Ethan’s house.

My inner fangirl was screaming. I took a deep breath, trying to play it cool.

I looked at the little angel statue again and gave him a big thumbs up.

Maybe you’re not so bad after all.

Picking up the sleeping Biscuit and Daisy, I couldn’t wait to go out, get in the elevator, and head upstairs.

I felt like I was floating. Even the elevator music sounded romantic.

This was my first time up here.

The higher floors had a different vibe—quieter, more exclusive. I felt like I’d leveled up in a video game.

Looking at the bright, spotless entryway, I took a deep breath.

Mmm, it smells like Ethan.

A subtle blend of cedar, fresh laundry, and something uniquely him.

After entering the code and hearing the beep, my heart felt like a thousand horses were galloping.

I clutched the cats tighter, hoping they couldn’t hear the wild drumming in my chest.

Inside, the whole place was filled with Ethan’s scent.

It was like stepping into his world—neat, calm, and a little mysterious.

I felt like I’d entered a treasure cave, tiptoeing around, secretly peeking at everything.

I couldn’t help myself. I peeked at the books on his shelves, the photos on the walls, every little detail.

Whoa.

This decor—so Ethan.

Minimalist, but not cold. A few plants, some vintage records, a framed print from a New York gallery. Everything in its place.

Of course, I only looked at the visible areas. I didn’t dare peek into the bedroom, study, or other rooms.

Tempting as it was, I had to draw the line somewhere. I was a guest, not a stalker.

When I reached the kitchen, I realized I’d been so excited I forgot to reply to Ethan.

I scrambled to grab my phone, fingers shaking as I opened Messenger.