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“I’m finally at peace. Not every story needs closure.”

I turn, done.

“Jack, please—” Her voice cracks open, a sob already pulling her under.

I don’t turn around, but I don’t stop. All I want is to comfort her, and that’s how I know she’ll always be a part of me.

“I was stupid,” she cries behind me. “I was greedy and self-absorbed. But I was young. I was barely twenty when I had you, and I had dreams. Ambitions. I wanted more than what our small life offered. And when I turned twenty-six, someone reached out to me with a movie role. A real shot.”

She’s shaking now. I hear it in her voice, like she’s unraveling.

“Your father said I shouldn’t go. That it would break us. And he was right. But I didn’t know how to stay. I thought… I thought if I left, maybe I’d make something of myself and come back stronger. But I was wrong. Everything happened all at once; it was too much, and I got swayed. I got lost.”

I turn to look at her.

“Jack, all these years, I’ve watched you, I’ve loved you from afar. I watch all your movies, your award shows, wondering how to reach out. How to turn back time and do the right thing. It was a mistake I regret. It’s the only thing about my life I wish I could change. Apologizing is not enough, I know, I wish I could do something. Anything. You can punish me all you want. In any way that’ll make you feel better, but please, give me a chance.”

Tears streak her cheeks. She’s not the poised screen goddess people worship. She’s just… a woman. Crying. Crumbling.

I shake my head. “That’s not good enough.”

Her breath hitches.

“You made one mistake when you left,” I say, my voice low and hard. “But the bigger mistake was staying gone. All those years. Watching me on TV. Knowing who I was. And staying silent.”

She takes a step forward, but I lift a hand and she stops.

“You knew who I was.” The pain is raw. “You could have sent a text the moment you found out about me. A call. A social media shout-out, for crying out loud. Anything is better than this, at this point. I can never forgive you for this.”

Her shoulders slump, like the words knock the wind out of her.

“And as much as I want this role…” I look away, jaw clenched. “I can’t do it. I can’t stand you. Stay away from me.”

And with that, I walk out the door.

Not looking back. Not even once.

Even though my chest feels like it’s about to split open.

MIA

I’ve always lived by the rules. I have never done anything questionable in my life, so this is a new low for me. Trailing a man. Not just any man. My client. Jack Calloway.

When he walked out of his room looking like a dream this morning, suit pressed, hair slicked back, a hint of cologne trailing behind him like a sin—something in me snapped. And like a fool, I followed.

I wish I could say it was curiosity. That I’m just invested in this PR stunt and want to make sure he doesn’t mess it up. But it’s not that. It’s not even close.

I wanted to know where he was going. Who he was seeing. What made this day important enough to pull him out of Bardstown. I told myself I just needed answers. But that was a lie. What I needed was control. I felt like I was losing it, going crazy not knowing who Jack wanted to see after his date with Hayley.

He goes to meet Hayley at this sleek, overpriced restaurant uptown. One of those places where the water costs more than aflight. I know this because I go in. I slip into a booth at the far end and order food I don’t eat. My eyes never leave him.

He plays the part well. Smiles. Laughs. Charms.

But I know Jack. And this isn’t him. His eyes are glazed. He touches Hayley’s arm like it’s part of a script. Not once does he look like he’s truly there.

And yet, I feel something in me burn as I watch. It’s not Hayley. It’s not even the date. It’s the fact that I care. That I’m sitting here like a deranged ex-girlfriend, stalking a man who isn’t even mine.

God, what am I doing?