Page 120 of Cross Ice

Evan, we’ve decided to take our marketing strategy in a different direction and will be working with a different consultant moving forward. We appreciate your work on the initial phase of the project.

I closed my laptop.

Five clients in two weeks. My business wasn’t just struggling; it was actively falling apart while I sat in my apartment monitoring browser tabs and avoiding grocery stores.

I got up and made myself open the blinds. Sunlight flooded my office, too bright after two weeks of keeping everything dim.

My phone buzzed.

Nico

Practice just wrapped up. Can I come over?

Evan

Yeah. I’m here.

Nico

Be there in 30.

I scanned my apartment and tried to see it the way Nico would when he walked in. Laundry scattered across the couch, clean but wrinkled from sitting unfolded. Mail piled on the kitchen counter, unopened. Blinds I’d just opened for the first time in two weeks, letting in light that made everything look worse, not better.

The evidence of someone who wasn’t okay, no matter how many times I said I was fine.

I hid the laundry in my closet and recycled the junk mail. It didn’t help much.

Nico showed up thirty minutes later, looking better than he had in days. More energetic. The tightness around his jaw was gone, and he was smiling before I’d even fully opened the door.

“Hey.” He kissed me, quick but real, his hand warm on my jaw for just a moment. “I have an idea.”

“Okay.”

“For tomorrow.” He pulled me toward the couch. “Let’s go to Santa Cruz. Get out of the city for a few hours. Beach, wharf, lunch somewhere with a view. Just… get away from all this.”

I searched his face. The hopefulness in his eyes, the way he was already planning it in his head.

“Nico—”

“I know you’ve been stuck inside. I know it’s been hard. But maybe getting out, being somewhere different, would help. We could just… try.”

Leaving my apartment felt like exposing myself to threats I couldn’t predict or control. But Nico was trying so hard to find a way through. If I kept saying no to everything, I’d lose him.

“Okay,” I said. “Yeah. Let’s try.”

Something in him relaxed, like he’d been holding his breath and hadn’t realized it. He kissed me again, and for a moment it felt easy. Like maybe this could work. Like maybe getting away from my apartment and the constant monitoring would actually help.

Then he pulled back. “I just want a good day with you,” he said. “Away from all of it. Just us.”

The wanting in his voice was the hardest part. I nodded, said okay, and tried not to think about how much was riding on an afternoon in Santa Cruz.

We ordered sandwiches and ate at the coffee table. “Another client terminated their contract today,” I said. “Fifth one.”

His expression moved through surprise to frustration to that look he got when he was already forming a plan. “Okay. Neil knows people who need marketing consultants. We could get you new clients⁠—”

“Nico.”

“Or maybe you could pivot for a while. Smaller companies, or⁠—”