Page 91

I say the same—because it’s expected—and lean in to kiss her cheek. She lingers for a second before getting in the car, and I wave as she pulls away.

The second her taillights disappear, I feel like I can breathe again.

I text Mia and Nova:Date’s over. Went well.

Short. Professional. Nothing more.

Then I get in my car, not heading home—no. I drive straight to my second apartment. The one no one really knows exists except Harry and my father. It’s where I go when I want to disappear.

I lock the door behind me and drop my keys on the counter.

And then I just… sit.

The silence feels deafening, but I don’t put on music. I don’t turn on the TV. I just sit there, staring at the blank wall, trying not to feel like I’m coming apart at the seams.

My phone won’t stop buzzing. Calls, texts—probably Nova checking in. Maybe Mia, too. Or maybe Harry. I flip the phone over and ignore it all.

I need quiet.

I need to not feel like I’m about to lose my mind.

I try to rehearse what I’ll say. I picture her face. I think of the last time I saw her in person—I was very young, so the image is hazy. Beautiful. Floral dress. A soft touch on my face. I didn’t know she would disappear from my life forever after that.

I want to be angry. I want to be strong. But the truth is, I just feel like that kid again—alone, small, and confused.

When the clock hits 6:30, I finally stand. My legs feel heavy as I make my way to the car. My fingers tremble slightly as I grip the wheel.

The drive is short, but every turn makes my heart thud louder.

By the time I pull up to the address Vera sent me, I’m sweating under my collar, and my hands are cold.

This is it.

Dinner with Megan Hart.

And for the first time in a long, long time—I’m not sure I can fake my way through it. When I arrive at the diner, it’s quiet. Too quiet.

It’s one of those upscale, hidden-away places with dim lighting and walls that mute the world outside. No music, no chatter. Just silence. A woman in a sleek black blazer approaches me as soon as I step in. She introduces herself as Vera Samuels. She’s small, graceful, with a polite smile that’s meant to help me relax. It doesn’t.

“Mr. Calloway,” she says softly. “She’ll be with you shortly. Please, come this way.”

I follow her to a table in the far corner of the room. There’s only one chair pulled out. My throat tightens as I sit, my heart thudding loud in my ears.

I try to calm my breathing. Try not to feel like a kid again. A few minutes later, I feel it—that shift in the air, the change in atmosphere. A presence.

I look up.

And there she is.

Megan Hart.

I stand before I even realize I’m doing it. My legs move like they belong to someone else. For a moment, I’m frozen. All the imagined confrontations I’ve played out in my head vanish.

She’s still beautiful—more so in person. Her skin glows under the light, and her hair’s tied back like it always was in those old films she used to make. But it’s her eyes that catch me.

They’re glassy. And full of tears.

“Jack,” she breathes, voice cracking. She steps forward, arms lifting to hug me. I take a step back. Her arms falter. Drop. The pain on her face nearly undoes me.