Elizabeth's POV
I was proud of him.
Joe Taylor had become a different person after he left the apartment building he holed himself up in for almost ten years of his life.
When that ignorant bastard had shattered Joe's heart, I thought it was all over. He came crying back to my house, begging me to get him a new apartment. I had been all too willing to agree; I'd been willing to get my gun out of the night stand and go shoot the dick, too, but Joe hadn't let me do that.
Such a shame.
For the first three months, Joe was worse than ever. He didn't come out of the apartment, didn't let me come in longer than it took to pick up a manuscript or deliver the groceries. Joe did a very good impression of a skeleton by the end: expressionless, listless, silent.
And then, the impossible happened.