The Neighbor Favor(75)

He’d fucked it up, way worse than he thought was possible. Her rejection was exactly what he deserved. And he knew it.





Lily wasn’t sure how she managed to get back to Manhattan. She moved on autopilot, staring into space as she rode the subway. She took the elevator to her floor and let herself inside her and Violet’s apartment, fed Tomcat and sat on the couch. All done in a state of disbelief.

Nick was N.R. Strickland.

Nick was Strick.

She felt so stupid now that she knew the truth. It had been there right in front of her face the whole time. How had she not seen it before?

Strick wrote for a travel magazine. Nick said he was a journalist who moved from place to place. Strick had a best friend who was a literary agent. So did Nick. Neither liked to spend time with their family. They had a fear of cats. They loved books. They were the same person. Nick was Strick. Jesus, even their names rhymed.

No wonder he’d felt so familiar to her. No wonder she’d fallen for him so quickly, so effortlessly. She’d already fallen for him before.

She could admit that their current situation was ridiculous. What were the odds that they’d somehow ended up neighbors? She could understand how he’d be freaked out, because she was kind of freaked out too. But he’d known the truth for months and hadn’t told her, and that was unfair.

He’d apologized and pleaded with her outside of the bar. He wanted to stop being afraid. He wanted to be with Lily. It was all she had wanted before. But how could she ever agree to that now? How could they start a relationship on these grounds? He’d ghosted her and concealed the truth once they met in person. She couldn’t overlook that.

Her phone vibrated on her bed, jolting her to attention. It was an email from Francesca Ng, asking for Lily’s interview availability. Lily responded robotically. She didn’t feel like celebrating anymore.

She didn’t even feel like crying over Nick. She just felt numb.

Tomcat leaped onto the couch and curled himself into a ball in her lap. She petted his smooth fur and held him closer. Before long, she heard a soft knock at the door. Somehow, she already knew who it was. She went to the door and looked through the peephole. Nick stood in the hallway, holding a stack of paper. He was staring at the ground, his shoulders slumped. Her heart pounded, and she wished he didn’t have the ability to make her feel this way after everything.

She opened the door, even though she knew she shouldn’t have.

“I know you don’t want to talk to me and you don’t have to,” Nick said. His words came out quickly, tumbling over each other. He held up the stack of paper. “Since our last email exchange in January, I’ve kept a draft on my desktop of all the things I’ve wanted to tell you. The truths about me and my life. The things I kept from you. I printed them out because I want you to have them.”

Lily stared at the papers. She didn’t make a move to take them.

“Please,” he said hoarsely.

She looked up at his face again, taking in his clear desperation. She should tell him to leave. But the honest truth was that she was curious to know what he’d written. After a prolonged silence, she took the pages.

“Thank you,” he said.

She simply nodded and placed her hand on the doorknob, an obvious sign that she was done with the conversation. Nick backed away and she turned around and went inside, closing the door behind her. She peeked out the peephole again and Nick was still standing there, staring pointedly at the ground. Then he sighed and went down the hall to his apartment.

She was so angry with him. He’d lied to her. So then why did she still feel such a strong connection to him?

She sat on the couch again and flipped through the stack of papers. The email drafts spanned from January until just last week.

With Tomcat curled beside her, Lily read Nick’s first apology email, where he explained why he’d never shown up to their video chat, how he feared that she wouldn’t like the real him, how nervous he’d been to tell someone else that he was N.R. Strickland. Later, he wrote to her about New York City and how overwhelming yet thrilling it felt to live there. He wondered if he might run into her, and if that happened, would she somehow know who he was right away? He mentioned his writing and how he struggled with it, and the stress of suddenly experiencing so much success and being unsure if he could deliver again.

He wrote about how much he missed talking to her. Often, he mentioned how sorry he was that he’d hurt her, and he knew he’d messed things up.

He’d written his last email draft only eight days ago.

    I just left you and Tomcat. You told me you were thinking of dating one of your coworkers. I think I could hear my heart breaking when you said that. I want you to be happy. It’s all I’ve ever wanted for you. And it’s selfish that I want you to be happy with me, because I don’t know if you can be. But I want to try. I would try my fucking hardest to do right by you. And that means I’ll have to tell you the truth. I hope you won’t hate me.



She gripped the piece of paper tighter as she reread Nick’s words. She wiped her eyes. She hadn’t even realized she’d been crying.

Then the door opened, startling her. To her surprise, Violet walked inside, followed by Iris.

“Hey,” Lily said, clearing her throat. “I thought you were in the Bahamas for that photo shoot.”