Page 58 of The Man in the Cottage

The thing is, some of it rings true. Travis does run. He ran from his career, from his family, from his whole life. He's been hiding here for six months, just like Savannah said. And he does have a way of making you feel special, of looking at you like you're the only person in the room.

But is that manipulation? Or is it just how he is?

I think about everything he's told me. The grandmother. The photographer. The family that saw him as a paycheck. He was honest about all of it, eventually. He didn't lie—he just took his time revealing the truth.

Maybe Savannah is doing the same thing. Maybe there's truth in her email, buried under layers of family resentment and hurt feelings.

Or maybe she's just like her mother, looking for an angle, trying to get between us for reasons I don't understand.

My phone buzzes. Nicole.

How's the writing going?

I type back: It's not. Got a weird email from Travis's sister.

The one who was on her phone the whole time?

That's the one.

What did she say?

I hesitate. Typing it out feels like giving it weight, making it real. But Nicole is my person—the one I call when I can't figure things out on my own.

She said Travis has a pattern. Gets attached, makes people feel special, then disappears. Said he did it to girlfriends before. Said he did it to his grandmother when she was sick.

Nicole's response is immediate: That's bullshit.

You think?

Kelly. You told me what his mom was like. Apple doesn't fall far from the tree.

But what if she's right? What if there's stuff he hasn't told me?

Then ask him. Don't take his sister's word for it.

She said he did it to his grandmother. That he ran when she was sick. But he told me he visited every day.

So either he's lying or she is. My money's on her.

Why?

Because she's the one who reached out unprompted. She's the one trying to plant doubt. That's manipulator behavior, babe. Classic.

I want to believe her. Nicole knows me better than almost anyone, and she has good instincts about people. But she's also protective—maybe too protective. She'd tell me what I want to hear just to keep me from spiraling.

What if I'm being naive? I type. What if I'm so caught up in this that I can't see what's right in front of me?

Then you'd be human. But Kelly—think about what you actually know. Not what his sister is telling you. What have you seen with your own eyes?

I think about it. What have I seen?

I've seen Travis show up every morning to fix things that didn't need fixing, just for an excuse to be near me. I've seen him help me with my book, offering insights that unlocked problems I'd been stuck on for months. I've seen him sit with me at the kitchen table for hours, talking about nothing, laughing at my bad jokes, looking at me like I was the only thing that mattered.

I've seen him break down when he talked about his grandmother. The way his voice cracked. The guilt he still carries for not being there when she died.

Does that sound like someone who runs? Does that sound like someone who shuts people out?

I've seen someone who's trying, I type to Nicole. Someone who's been hurt and is scared of being hurt again. But he keeps showing up anyway.