The Accidental Love Note

Chapter 1: Wrong Number, Right Problem

Dear Neighbor
Im moving to Paris today. Please water my plants. Key under the mat.
P.S. Dont kill Geraldine (the spider plant). Shes dramatic.

My phone buzzed as I sprinted to my Uber.

Unknown Number: Youre leaving Geraldine with a stranger? Thats cold.

My stomach dropped. Wrong number.

Me: OH GOD SORRY! Wrong person! Please delete!
Unknown Number: Too late. Ive already named the fern Steve. Were invested.

And just like that, Ethan became the only good part of my disastrous move.

Two weeks in, Paris was a nightmare.

My boss, Margot, a razor-sharp Frenchwoman with a permanent scowl, hated me on sight.

Your presentation is... how you say... merde, Margot sneered, tossing my work in the trash. Do it again.

I texted Ethan, fingers shaking.

Me: I think my boss wants me dead.
Ethan: Give me her address. Ill forget to water her plants.

I laughed so hard I cried.

Then Ethan went silent.

No replies for three days. My messages sat unread.

My mind raced:
Was he hurt?
Did I say something wrong?
Was this all just a game?

On day four, my phone finally buzzed.

Ethan: Sorry. My ex showed up. Its... complicated.

My heart cracked. Of course he had an ex.

Ethan's ex-girlfriend, all long legs and sharper words, had conveniently reappeared after two years.

Ethan: She says shes changed. Wants to talk.
Me: And you believe her?
Ethan: I dont know.

I stared at my phone, gut churning. Why did I care?

Nina escalated.

She accidentally answered Ethan's phone when I called.

Oh, Lila, Nina purred. Ethans busy. But dont worry—Ill take care of him.

I hung up, furious.

Ethan texted an hour later.

Ethan: Nina said you called? Everything okay?

I snapped.

Me: Wow. You really are busy. Forget I existed.
Ethan: Lila, wait—

I blocked him.

Two weeks later, I returned home, exhausted.

My apartment was spotless. My plants thriving.

And on my doorstep?

I fired Nina from my life, he said, holding out Geraldine. And I sucked at taking care of your plants. I bought replacements twice.

My lips twitched. You killed Steve, didnt you?

RIP Steve. He stepped closer. But Id really like to not lose you.

I sighed. Youre lucky Geraldine likes you.

Ethan grinned. Im lucky you like me.

And just like that, wrong numbers didnt seem so wrong anymore.

THE END.

Moral: Sometimes the right person comes with the wrong ex... but love is worth the fight.

 

 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

  Title: Married by 9, Divorced by 5 Part 2: Ring Before Spring (or My Mother Will Disown Me) Fake engagement rule #1: Never tell your mother. Fake engagement rule #2: ESPECIALLY don't tell your immigrant, romantically unhinged, chai-obsessed mother who’s been manifesting your wedding since the day you learned to walk straight. Guess what Bentley did by 8 a.m.? I stormed in like a caffeinated raccoon, flinging open the glass door. “You. Called. My. Mother.” Bentley, innocent as ever, looked up from his laptop. “Oh yay! Morning, wife.” “Don’t wife me, you snitchy little corgi. Why would you call Amma ?!” He looked genuinely confused. “Because… she sent you 11 missed calls titled ‘Are You Dead?’ and I panicked?” “You could’ve texted her back ! Instead you told her we’re engaged?!” Bentley leaned back, hands behind his head, full smug mode activated. “Relax, Lila. I was charming. She likes me.” “That’s the problem !” He blinked. “Wait… is this the first time she’s lik...
Read more
His Wife by Mistake   Chapter 2 : Welcome, VIP The elevator doors slid open onto the 18th floor, and Nora blinked. “This... can’t be right.” Callum grinned beside her, arms crossed, clearly enjoying her confusion. “It’s right. The CEO said intern accommodations are up here.” They walked down a sleek, matte-black hallway. The carpet was plush beneath her heels, like walking on velvet. Spotless glass walls framed views of Manhattan, and every few feet, sleek metallic plaques shimmered with names and titles. She passed rooms labeled “Investor Relations,” “Legal Counsel,” and then— VIP RESIDENCY – Temporary Guest Office “VIP?” she said aloud, brows lifting. “Is that a sarcastic label or…” Before she could finish, a sharp pop of gum snapped behind her. Nora turned. A girl leaned against the wall, dressed like a fashion editorial nightmare—platinum-blonde waves, cropped designer blazer over a rhinestone tank, and stiletto heels too tall for workplace sanity. She looke...
Read more
  💌  HOW TO LOSE A GUY IN TEN HATE-TEXTS CHAPTER 4: MISTLETOE TRAP Part 2:  THE ALMOST-KISS Rule #3: No actually catching feelings.   (Too late.) The Valentine’s Day dance committee meeting was going exactly as expected: Badly. Asher had taped printed spreadsheets to the wall like some corporate overlord. I’d countered by replacing all his bullet points with  "I ❤ June"  doodles. "Real mature, Vega,"  he said, plucking a doodle off the wall. "Thanks, I try."  I kicked my boots up on the table.  "So what’s next? Balloons? Sparklers? A live performance of you admitting I’m right?" "Decorations,"  he said, ignoring me.  "We’re doing a winter wonderland theme." I choked on my soda.  "Excuse me? We agreed on  ‘Anti-Love Club’ —black lights, punk bands, a literal wall where people can scribble their ex’s worst traits—" "We didn’t agree on anything."  He tossed me a bag of silver tinsel.  "And you lost the ...
Read more