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Tyler turns to look over his shoulder as if there’s an invisible cord between them.

“He’s whipped,” he comments as her security guard offers to take the stroller and Annie waves him off. But the second her eyes land on her husband, a smile curving her lips, Tyler’s off the couch and at her side.

Sawyer and I exchange a look. “Yeah. It’s security who’s whipped,” he comments. “Figured musicians were supposed to play the field.”

Tyler bends to check in the stroller before straightening, pulling his wife against him for a hard kiss.

“He doesn’t. They’re in love.” I refocus on my friend who’s still here, leaving Tyler to fawn over his wife.

“You envy him,” Sawyer scoffs.

“Love is an exquisite diversion from the more brutal parts of life.”

Last year, I didn’t only let myself fall—I practically held the door for both myself and Raegan. At first, I thought I could handle it. Having her at my side felt natural.

Somehow, when I wasn’t looking, it switched from natural to necessary. She claimed me, not the other way around. She brought out emotions I’d never felt before, hopes and ambitions I never expected.

After Mischa burned down my property—the future Raegan and I were building together—I vowed I wouldn’t let him get away with it. But the farther away I put that in my rearview mirror, the harder it is to remember why I left the woman I love.

I was the one who ended our relationship.

I knew I’d miss her. I didn’t expect to lie awake until morning, wishing I knew what ceiling she was staring at.

If she was alone like I was.

If she was lonely like I was.

But there’s no place for Raegan in my mission.

In the last eight months, I’ve doubled down on growing my own business, plus invested in having Mischa and his operations surveilled. There’s been some sabotage back and forth, me trying to provoke him, but I want it to be done.

What I never told her was that I hoped it would be over soon. That I could find my way back to her when it was done, that I could force my way back into her heart.

It was harsh of me to leave her.

It would have been cruel to promise to return with no guarantee I could.

I force my attention back to the man sitting opposite me. “I‘ll take three of the bartender robots.”

“They’re fucking expensive, Harry.”

“And I’m fucking rich, Sawyer.”

He grins. “Fine. But technology’s not your real problem.” He shoves his hair back.

Sawyer has a way of seeing straight to the heart of a situation. It comes from his brutal upbringing—while mine was charmed, at least until I was a teenager, his was the opposite. He scraped by.

He’d say he’s thriving, and few would argue with his track record and accomplishments. But every victory has a cost—a personal one, if not a public one.

I shake my head. “The prick who was responsible for my parents’ deaths.”

They might’ve been ruled overdoses, but it wasn’t their doing. No matter what other ills they were responsible for, they never touched drugs themselves and raised us the same way.

“The police want to nail him for drug trafficking and a raft of other evils, but their timeline feels… infinite,” I go on.

Sawyer’s eyes darken. “You trust a bunch of paper pushers, you’ll be the one bleeding out.”

He’s speaking from experience. But before I can respond, Tyler and Annie and the stroller approach.