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Nate and Vera break apart, Nate’s hair a wild mess and Vera’s no better, her braids, which she’d had clipped back from her face, now falling loosely around her shoulders. They’re both wide eyed and swollen mouthed, and even in the dimness of the room, it’s obvious that I just caught the tail end of the tipping point of their will-they-won’t-they.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I groan. “You chose to cave to thisnow?”

Vera gapes at me. “I—”

Nate looks much the same. “We—”

“Fucking hell.” I close my eyes, breathing deeply just to let it out. Of course they’re finally realizing they’re perfect for each other on the same night my love life is falling apart. “Congratulations. Don’t stop on my account. God knows you waited long enough.”

“It isn’t—” Vera clears her throat. “It’s not what you—”

“Oh, shut up,” I sigh. “If my life wasn’t a fucking mess right now, I’d be planning your wedding.”

Nate immediately looks concerned. “Wait, what?”

“Nothing.” I shake my head. “Not something I want to get into at this moment. I just came to tell you guys I called an Uber. I’m heading out.”

Vera frowns. “Do we need to talk about something?”

“No,” I tell her wearily. “I honestly can’t right now.” I gesture between them. “I expect a full report onthistomorrow when I’m more sober.”

“I mean,” Nate says with a grin. “We all knew she couldn’t resist me.”

He yelps when Vera pinches his side. “If you ever want to kiss me again, you’ll shut up right now.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he laughs.

My heart aches watching them. It’s strange, being happy for someone when you’re so miserable yourself. My phone pings, signaling my Uber has arrived.

“My ride’s here,” I manage tightly. “I’ll talk to you guys tomorrow.”

I close the door behind me, taking another deep, steadying breath as I will myself to look normal so that my parents won’t realize anything is amiss when I leave. I don’t text Ezra again, not even when the urge to do so becomes unbearable. He doesn’t text me either.

And what’s worse…I have a feeling that he might never do so again.

Twenty-Eight

Ezra

Four days afterwalking away from Dani, and mostly, I’m just numb. There isn’t a moment that passes that I don’t want to go to her, to beg her to see reason, toshakesome sense into her if I have to—but I know it won’t do any good. I know that someone like Dani can’t be forced into making a decision. She has to come to the conclusion on her own.

I just hope that conclusion involves me, somehow.

I meant it when I said that she was worth staying for, but I never anticipated that she would actively push me away. In hindsight, maybe I should have seen it coming. She’s so convinced that anyone she gets close to will hurt her, will lie to her or leave her behind, that she runs from any opportunity that might give them the chance.

But I don’t have time to dwell on that right now.

Lorenzo’s office is the last place I want to be, but given that he’s apparently “too busy” today to stop by mine and sign the documents I need from him, he left me with no other choice. I ride thesleek elevator up to his floor in doleful silence, trying to ignore the heavy weight of my silent phone in my pocket. There is so much more I wanted to say to her last night, but it was the truth when I said I can’t chase her if she doesn’t want to be chased. That bullshit platitude about setting something free if you love it flits through my mind, and I snort out a laugh.

Dani’s more likely to run for the hills without looking back.

The elevator doors open to spill out onto Lorenzo’s floor, and I steel myself for what will surely be an unpleasant visit as I traipse through the hall toward his office. It rests at the corner of the building, and I take a deep breath when I reach it, knocking on his door and readying myself to play nice.

When he doesn’t answer, I knock again, pressing my ear to the door and catching two raised male voices on the other side.

“—said that no one would find out,” one of them says.

Lorenzo, I recognize. Not surprising. The other one, however, is.