Chapter 7: The Bear, The Confession, The New Beginning

Feeling a bit better, I drove home. When the elevator opened, I saw movers bringing stuff into the apartment across from mine. Looks like Mrs. Franklin found a tenant. I felt a twinge of disappointment.

The hallway smelled like fresh paint and cardboard. I squeezed past a stack of boxes, juggling my keys and the pork.

But then I saw Savannah at the door, and my heart skipped a beat. She was the new neighbor?

She stood there in jeans and a faded IU sweatshirt, looking more like the girl I used to know than the executive everyone else saw. For a second, neither of us moved.

Mrs. Franklin followed her out, and the two of them had completely different reactions to seeing me. Savannah froze. Mrs. Franklin greeted me warmly. “Autumn, you don’t need to help me find a tenant—I’ve already rented to Miss Langley. Now you two can look out for each other as neighbors.”

Savannah said quietly, “We know each other.”

Her voice was so soft I almost missed it.

I had no choice but to add, “Yeah, she’s my boss.”

Mrs. Franklin exclaimed, “Wow, what a coincidence!”

She clapped her hands together, beaming. “It’s fate! You two can carpool.”

Yeah, an unbelievable coincidence.

After a bit more small talk, Mrs. Franklin left. I turned to see Savannah leaning against her door, staring at me with a half-smile. I approached slowly, searching for something to say but coming up empty.

She looked so at ease, arms folded, one eyebrow arched in amusement. I wanted to ask if she’d done this on purpose, but I bit my tongue. My mouth was dry.

Noticing the crispy pork in my hand, I offered, “My mom made this herself. Want to try it, Director Langley?”

At the mention of my mom, Savannah immediately straightened up. The movers had left, and her luggage was still on the floor. "Come eat at my place. I’ll heat it up—it’ll be quick. Your mom’s cooking is always good."

She said it so naturally that it threw me. For a moment, it felt like we were back in our dorm, sneaking snacks after lights out.

I added silently, “You know that.”

Back in college, whenever I came back from break, my parents would pack my suitcase with food. The crispy pork was always a dorm favorite. I’d borrow the dorm supervisor’s microwave to heat it up, always saving a bowl just for Savannah before sharing with the others. They’d tease me for playing favorites, and I’d retort, “Your heart’s on the left anyway, and besides, our little Savvy is too skinny—she needs to eat more.”

They’d all go “Ooooh,” while Savannah would quietly eat, ears turning red. Those moments always made me feel so satisfied.

I could almost hear the echo of those dorm room jokes, the way Savannah would roll her eyes but never refuse my food.

But now, faced with this powerful woman, I didn’t dare call her “Savvy” anymore.

I hesitated, but she looked at me expectantly, so I followed her inside. Her apartment was still a maze of boxes and half-unpacked suitcases. There was a faint smell of new paint and cardboard. She gestured for me to sit while I went to the kitchen.

In the end, she couldn’t resist the food and stayed close by. She waited on the sofa while I went to the kitchen.

It was the one she gave me in college. I’d never thrown it away.

She was squeezing it gently, her thumb brushing over the worn patch on its ear. I froze in the doorway, heart in my throat.

I tried to act calm. There are plenty of bears that look the same; she probably wouldn’t remember. But then she pressed its chest, and a recording played:

“I like you.”

The voice was a bit younger than Savannah’s now, but anyone with ears could tell—it was hers.

The sound hung in the air, soft and trembling. I swallowed hard, my chest tight. Savannah looked up at me, her cheeks tinged pink. For a moment, the years fell away, and it was just the two of us again—awkward, hopeful, and maybe, just maybe, ready to try again.

I wasn’t sure I was ready for what came next.