Day 13

It was still early in the day, but not the morning. The sun was up. The house already awake. Jace was sitting in the kitchen, drinking some coffee. Alone. It was the first day that Ivy wasn’t up and waiting for him.

The silence was different, it was empty. The sound of Jace sipping his coffee could’ve echoed through the house, and apparently, it did.

Ivy’s footsteps came from down the hall, quieter than usual. 

Jace looked over his shoulder.

She was in loose, cozy shorts. Along with an oversized sweater that effortlessly draped over her body. No jewelry. No makeup. No laptop. Just her, bare feet on the stone, walking with a softness that he hadn’t seen before.

He hesitated to say anything, didn’t want to make it obvious he noticed. It was the first time he’d seen her in something that didn’t look pre-approved. And somehow, it made her presence feel even louder.

“Morning,” she said, not looking up.

He nodded. “You’re not in uniform.”

She shot him a glance. “Is there a dress code I missed?”

“No,” he said. “Just didn’t realize you owned anything that comfortable.” 

She gently smiled as she poured hot water into the french press, before saying, “This house has been freezing since the day you moved in.” 

“That’s because it’s mostly glass,” Jace quickly replied, having no clue if that was actually true.

Ivy just smiled, like she instantly saw through the facade. “No, that’s because someone keeps setting the A/C to 68 like he’s trying to refrigerate the entire house.”

He didn’t fight that one, mostly because she was right. Something about cold air kept him sharp.

She leaned a hip against the counter while the coffee steeped, sleeves falling past her hands, hair not done. Not undone either. Just… normal. Like she may even be tired.

She hadn’t opened her laptop or checked her phone. She didn’t mention any plans for the day, not even the call he had on his calendar for noon. She just patiently waited for her coffee.

She took a sip from her mug once it was ready, still leaning on the counter, one foot slightly lifted over the other. She looked like she was thinking about something else, or maybe somewhere else. Like she wasn’t distracted, just not present like she always was.

It made him realize how used to her presence he’d gotten. Not just her structure, her check-ins, or her reminders, but her being there. Already sharp, already prepared, always ahead.

He didn’t know what to do with her like this. It was still Ivy, but not in that mode he’d gotten used to.

He took a sip of his coffee, just to do something with his hands.

“You didn’t sleep well?” he asked, keeping it casual.

She was still staring off towards the ocean. “Didn’t sleep badly,” she said. “Just didn’t feel like racing the sun today.”

That landed heavier than he expected. Maybe because he’d never once asked himself why she was always up before him.

He nodded. Didn’t reply. She didn’t add anything either.

It was quiet for a moment, but not in the same way it was before she walked in. It wasn’t empty anymore. It was a warm silence, just two people occupying the same room without trying to manage it.

Eventually, she pushed off the counter and headed for the hallway.

“I’ll get started in a bit,” she said over her shoulder. “Didn’t want to miss the coffee window.”

Jace watched her go. Not in a way that meant anything. Just… in a way that meant he noticed.

***

Jace didn’t see her for most of the afternoon. Not in a weird way, she was simply back to work, and also back in uniform. Hair pulled back, laptop open, posted up in her office that she claimed before Jace ever got there.

They made small talk throughout the day when Ivy needed something from him. A document, thoughts on an article, prep for a business call, whatever it was.

But that was it.

Now it was late. Not the night yet, but it was close. The sun was low enough to see right through the place.

Jace stood outside leaning against the cool stone half-wall near the edge of the patio. There was a wind tonight. Soft, but persistent. Like something wanted to be heard but didn’t want to raise its voice.

He didn’t hear her coming. Only noticed when she was next to him. She held a folded hoodie in her arms. No drink. No phone.

“Did you finish what you needed to?” he asked without turning.

“I think so,” she said.

The silence after was a little heavier than usual, as if something else was there with them.

She looked out at the sky. “I forgot what sunsets looked like from here.”

Jace glanced over. “You’ve been living here longer than I have.”

She smiled, but didn’t laugh. “Yeah, but I usually miss this part.”

The sun was burning even lower now, the horizon blurring into that hazy, peach-colored stillness Malibu does better than anywhere else.

“I don’t think I’ve seen the same sunset twice since I got here,” Jace said.

“You won’t. That’s kind of the point,” she said, almost as if she was speaking to herself.

They stood there like that for a bit. Him leaning. Her just standing, arms crossed, hoodie still folded like she hadn’t decided whether she needed it.

After some time, she spoke again. “You know you’re allowed to be bored, right?”

He looked at her.

“I mean it,” she said. “It doesn’t make you ungrateful.”

He let that sit.

“I’m not bored,” he said eventually. “I’m just... still getting used to everything.”

Ivy nodded. “That makes sense.”

They both redirected their gazes towards the horizon. Neither of them said anything for a while. But finally, the sun disappeared. Just like that. No warning. No applause.

Jace cleared his throat. “Were you always like this?”

Ivy turned to him. “Like what?”

“I don’t know,” Jace said, before actually answering. “Put-together. Capable. Five steps ahead,” still not meeting her eyes.

She let out a slow, long breath. Not a sigh, but not far from it. “Not always.”

He turned towards her and simply nodded, seeing that she was still discovering her own answer.

She continued, “Earlier than I should’ve, I witnessed what reliance can do to someone. I told myself that would never be me.”

Jace didn’t say anything in response, he didn’t need to. He was there, and he heard her. That was enough.

The wind was colder now. The world at rest, like it was exhausted after a long day. He didn’t look at her, but he knew. He knew she looked tired. And soft. And human.

Ivy slowly unfolded the hoodie. She slipped it on and it swallowed her. It wasn’t white or beige, it didn’t fit in with the house.

It was crimson. Faded. “HARVARD” across the front, with big sleeves she didn’t bother rolling.

She caught him looking this time.

“What?” she asked. Not defensive, just wondering.

He shook his head. “Nothing.”

He turned away, and then, quieter, he said, “It suits you.”

“What does?” she asked.

“All this.”

She didn’t respond. But she didn’t leave either. Which, for him, was enough.