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We spent the afternoon playing old board games. For a while, I even forgot about all the mess I’d made. But now, with the quiet hum of the car and the city blurring past my windows, the silence rushes in.

And with it, one thought: Mia.

It’s maddening how much I need her. Not just want—need.

I’ve lived most of my life pretending nothing ever stuck to me. Like I could be untouchable if I worked hard enough, won enough, smiled at the right cameras. But Mia—she sees through all that. And for once, I wanted to be seen.

I want her. There’s no doubt about that.

But she won’t make this easy. She’s professional. Too professional. Always with her boundaries, her rules. But not once did she pull away when I kissed her. Not when I held her. Not even last night, when I told her things I’ve never told anyone.

There’s something there. She might not want to admit it—not to herself, not to me—but it’s there. I’ve seen it in her eyes. Felt it in the way she touched me like I was fragile and not the golden boy who always bounces back.

But none of it matters if I let her slip away.

My past? It’s always going to be there. The tabloids, the exes, the cameras. The versions of me I can’t stand to look at. But maybe Mia doesn’t need me to be perfect—maybe she just needs me to be honest.

The realization settles like cement in my chest as I drive. I grip the steering wheel tighter.

I’m going to Bardstown.

She left because she didn’t believe me—but I’ll make her believe. I’ll knock on every door, beg if I have to. I’ll show her I’m not just chasing a moment. I’m chasing her.

It won’t be easy. Heck, knowing Mia, she’ll probably slam the door in my face.

But I’m going anyway.

She’s worth the fight.

She’s everything.

Just as I’m about to switch lanes, my phone buzzes. Nova. I debate ignoring her—I’m not in the mood for another lecture—but something tells me to pick up.

“Yeah?” I answer.

She doesn’t even say hi. “Megan’s out. Fitzgerald just told me she’s pulling out of the project.”

I blink. “What?”

“You don’t have to step away anymore, I guess. They’re looking out for another actress to fill the role.”

“Okay. Let me call you back, Nova.”

I hang up and pull the car over, heart thudding. I lean back in the seat, eyes staring blankly at the skyline. She must have known it was too much for us to pretend like we were just two actors in a scene and not a mother and son with years of silence between us.

She knew.

And she backed off.

I run a hand through my hair, a thousand thoughts crashing into each other. There’s still that ache in my chest—that rage that she got to walk away from me when I was just a kid and somehow still gets to decide when she walks back in. And yet… another part of me, quieter but no less real, exhales.

I don’t know. I don’t know anything when it comes to her. All I do know is that even thinking about her still makes my throat tight and my fists clench.

Forgiveness? So soon?

I call my dad, and he picks up on the second ring. “You literally just left. You miss me that much?”

I huff out a laugh. “I’ll turn back, but I’m already forty-five minutes out. Let’s just have this conversation on the phone.”