No other entries until New Year’s Day this year.

It’s a note to God.

Dear God,

Thank you for sending me Ford.

He’s perfect.

Thank you so, so much.

Ashleigh Li

Below that is another poem.

I’ve been searching for you

It’s always been you

Hearts and grace

You take me from this broken place

I’ll search for you

It will always be you

On my way home, all alone

In everything I do, I’ll search for you

I want your lips in a kiss

It’s true, I love you

I’ll always be searching for you

Because you are my saving grace

You take me from this broken place

I stare at those words for what seems like hours. I read it over and over and over. And then I go back to the computer and look for this one too. It takes me a while to find the original online because there’s two versions of this song. I listen to both several times before deciding this poem came from The Maine, Saving Grace, Take 2.

This song just rips my heart out.

And she thanked God for me. I am her saving grace?

I toss the journal down on the couch and go take a shower so I can get dressed for work. I’ll be useless today, but all they want is the appearance that I give a shit about this project right now.

I do give a shit about this project. I want this project. We’re leaving in a week for New Zealand to start filming. They’re just rehearsing right now, a part of the production I’m not required to participate in, that’s the director’s job. But they want me to show an effort? I can do that.

I dress in my best suit, then stumble over that little yellow ducky as I come out of the closet in the bedroom.

Kate. God, no more Kate. No more Ash. And the last f**king impression she’ll have of me is being a controlling ass**le, making demands of her out by the pool.

She wants the grand gesture. She wants the fairy tale.

But she’s in the middle of a nightmare right now. I only hope they took her home and not to some hospital.

I lock the door behind me and get in my Audi. I need the air conditioning today. It’s warm and I don’t want the windows open. I want to block out the world and not participate in it. The studio is not that far away and when I get there I go through the motions. I shake hands, laugh about my ridiculous luck in getting to LA in the Bronco. Explain my emotional attachment to the truck and why I needed to save it. They are all sappy artists, they totally understand my eccentricities. That’s one thing I always loved about being in the art community—they pretty much accept everyone. It does not matter how weird you are, they like weird.

And I think this show will be a hit. It’s got every popular trope going right now.

I waste hours chatting these people up, but on the inside I replay Ashleigh’s words over and over in my mind.

I want to be won, Ford. If you can win me, you can have me. I’ll be yours and you’ll have earned it.

I hold it together until the day is finally over at six-thirty, and then get back in my car and drive home. I stop at the gate, but not because I need to enter a code.

It’s open.

Did I close it before I left?

My heart races as I drive up the hill, hoping that somehow Ashleigh found a way to come back, but when I get up to the house I almost crash the car into the garage door before I snap out of my surprise.

Rook is sitting on my doorstep.

Chapter Forty-Two

She stands up and waits for me to get out of the car but I just sit for a few seconds, staring at her. Why is she here? Did she leave Ronin? I open the door and get out, then close it gently, like noise will disrupt the fabric of the universe and bring it all crashing down upon me. I walk over to her and stand there. She’s got her hands in the pockets of her jeans, her shoulder slightly hunched, and her eyes are wide with expectation.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispers.

“For what?”

“For taking advantage of our friendship. For taking you for granted. For not giving more. I’m sorry, Ford. I had no idea I was hurting you. I do love you, you have to know that. I do. It’s just…” She stops to take a deep breath. “It’s just… you’re right. It’s not the same way that I love Ronin. Not that it’s bad,” she adds hurriedly. “It’s not bad, just different. And I can’t stand the thought of you not being in my life. I’m going crazy here, Ford. I’m desperate to prove to you that I’m more than just a Taker. I’m a Giver, Ford. I want to give you whatever it is that will make you happy and bring you back into my life. I do.”

“Where’s Ronin?”

“Back home.”

“Does he know you’re here?”

“Yes. I told him I needed to sort this out.”

“How long are you staying?”

“As long as you want me to.”

“What do you want from me, Rook?”

“I want for you to love me, Ford. Like you did before this happened. I want for you to love me like that again. Because this”—she waves her arms in the air in an all-encompassing gesture—“this is not working for me. I can’t stand this, Ford. I need you. You’re my best friend.”

I unlock the door and wave her in, then follow. “Have you eaten?” She looks like she’s lost some weight.

“No, I’m not hungry.”

I throw my keys down on the counter and shake my head. “I have no idea what to say to you, Rook. A week ago I would’ve been thrilled that you came all this way to see me.” I look over at her face as she internalizes this and f**k. She’s upset.