I took a deep, shaky breath, trying to calm myself. "If it's really over," I said, my lips trembling despite my attempts to hold it together. "Then say it to my face, Jax. Say you're breaking up with me."

He looked up, squinting, his jaw working slowly. After a deep breath, he looked me right in the eyes, his mouth trembling for a moment before holding firm. "I'm breaking up with you. I'm sorry, Riley. I wish there was another way."

My stomach felt sick as tears rolled messily down my cheeks. This was really happening. After weeks of struggling to figure out what was wrong with Jax, it was over.

I knew Jax was trouble the first time I set eyes on him. What I hadn't counted on was what a sweet, sensitive, romantic man lay beneath that mask. And that I would fall in love with him. Now, the man I fell in love with sat with his shoulders slumped as if he'd been broken. Defeated.

I took a deep, tortured breath and looked at him, my vision blurry with tears. Even if it was over, I needed to make sure he knew I cherished what we'd had. "Well, I still love you," I said shakily, fighting back a sob. "More than anyone I've ever met. Whatever it is you're going through and whatever you do to recover, maybe that will help—that you'll know that I'm out there somewhere, still in love with you."

His head dropped for a moment and he ran his hands through his hair before he looked back up at me. "Riley, I—"

His voice broke, then he was mute, and his head fell lifelessly down. The thought of hugging him one last time crossed my mind, but he hadn't made any movement toward me from his seat, so I didn't. I walked back to the door and turned to say goodbye.

A sob shook me as I opened my mouth to say the word. I couldn't. Tears flowing, I put my hand up lamely to signal I was leaving and stepped out of the room. Then I stormed down the hall quickly and from there away from the performers area to the bus. The vision of him sitting there like a cracked statue haunted me as I left.

We were done. What now?

As I walked, I thought about my friends. Kristen, Jen, even my mom. They were the ones I wanted to talk to. But they were all in New York.

That was where I needed to be.

After stopping by the tour bus to grab my work bag, I called a cab and headed to the nearest main street to be picked up. When the cabbie came, I got in and told him to take me to LAX. I would figure out a flight home to New York when I got there. Then I looked out the window and cried for what Jax and I had lost. I was shattered.

Chapter Nineteen

MOVING ON

Manhattan. My island. My home.

I'd been in town for two weeks now, trying to adjust. The skyscraper canyons were a stark contrast to the spacious, palm tree lined California boulevards I'd left behind.

It'd been two weeks without Jax. At first I found myself bursting into tears at random times in the night, my heart hurt so much. But I couldn't go on that way forever. After one too many sleepless nights, I made a plan to get my shit together. I had a life I enjoyed before Jax came into it—I just needed to work on getting back there again.

The first step in getting better was to carefully avoid any websites, magazines, or radio stations where I might see or hear anything about Jax. The less I thought about him, the better.

Despite my precautions, I had a bad moment when a large cardboard box arrived from LA. With my stomach tied up in knots, I'd shoved it in my hall closet, unopened. I guessed that inside Jax had packed all my stuff that I'd left behind on the bus.

I didn't even want to open that box of hurt.

But I'd been through breakups before, and survived. I knew what to do, and that the first few weeks were always the hardest. In a month, I'd forget all about what a fool I'd been over some damn rock star. Hell, I'd probably laugh about it.

Now, though, I would pretend my best that nothing had ever happened between us. And with each day, the hurt would grow less. At least, that was the theory.

Kristen called every couple days, seemingly worried about me. Finally, she wanted me to come over for dinner, but somehow that seemed like too much effort. Just trying to make conversation over the phone had been hard, so I begged off.

I had too much work to do anyway. I'd gotten my twenty thousand dollar bonus for a job well done, but somehow, it seemed like every day I kept falling further and further behind on my assignments. The kudos for my good work as a tour accountant had been short-lived, and just that morning Palmer had chewed me out about a couple of errors on an expense analysis report. It hadn't been pretty.

I sat at my desk, staring at my computer. Numbers swam before my eyes, and I put my head in my hands. If I could just finish up this report, I would go home—and maybe go straight to bed.

The time on my computer said five thirty. I sighed. The day had been hard, but at least I'd managed to get through most of it without thinking about Jax. See? Progress.

I heard footsteps behind me, and I hunched over my keyboard, hoping Palmer hadn't caught me slacking.

"Hey, Riley."

I started, and swiveled my head around.

Jen stood there, her purse slung over one shoulder.

"A few of us are going to Mickey's Pub. Want to come?"

I exhaled slowly, trying to soothe my frayed nerves. "Nah. I'm just going to finish up here and go home."

Jen frowned. "When you took a pass on happy hour last Friday, I thought, gee, she must be tired from her trip. But two weeks in a row? That's unheard of."

I looked up at her and then glanced away, fighting down a growing uneasiness. I hadn't lied to Jen about what had happened between me and Jax—but I hadn't told her the whole truth either. The thought of hearing her say "I told you so" was absolutely the last humiliation I wanted to face, so I'd smoothed out the details some, leaving out the heartbreak and passing the whole affair off as some crazy, short-lived fling.

Jen grabbed a chair from the cubicle next to mine and sat down in it. Rolling a little closer, she leaned forward with a suspicious look on her face. "I mean, this is ironic. Here I am, begging you to go out with me. Usually it's the other way around."

I shrugged and gave her a weak smile that felt all wrong on my face. "Maybe I'm just finally getting my priorities straight. There's more to life than just the weekend."

Jen whistled. "Words I never thought I'd hear. I don't think you mean it."

My face grew hot. "Well, I do. If there's one thing I learned from being out on the road, it's that I don't want to live on the edge. Not anymore."

Her eyes widened. "Who are you, and what have you done with my friend Riley? Living on the edge is your MO."

"The longer you stay on the edge," I replied, unable to keep the bitterness out of my voice, "The more likely you are to get hurt."

"I don't know what happened to you out there," Jen said, her face solemn, "But it sounds like you got hurt already."

My heart wrenched, and I struggled to keep my face composed. From her serious face, I could tell I no longer had her fooled. But I was getting better now. I should be able to talk about it, no big deal.

I sighed deeply and shook my head. "You were right. About Jax. But it's nothing I can't handle."

Jen gave me a penetrating look. "I'm not going to stand around telling you 'I told you so.' I think you're doing a good enough job of that on your own."