Maybe he hoped I’d retract my story.

When my mother and father came into the room, wearing their wrinkled khaki shorts and old T-shirts they normally gardened in, the stress was all over their tear-stained faces. They must’ve dropped everything and jumped on a flight to Chicago and slept in the waiting room. If my heart wasn’t already broken, it would be cracking into two right now.

“Don’t even pretend to be upset,” I groaned my words, trying to crack a joke. “I know how happy you are to finally have a reason to worry.”

My mother sat next to me, her brown eyes beet red from crying. “What were you thinking?” She took my hand, careful not to tangle the IV.

I wasn’t. “I wanted to get away from those reporters.” Assholes.

“Well, Max is going to make sure they pay for what they did to you. They had no right.”

I had a feeling the press wasn’t even close to being done with me yet. Nevertheless… “I don’t want his help, Mom. That man is just as responsible as they are.”

She shook her head, making her messy lopsided ponytail flop around against her shoulder. “You’ve been out for a while, so you haven’t seen the news, but you might want to give him a chance, Lily. He really, really cares about you.”

I looked away, the tears stinging my eyes.

“Honey,” my father said to my mother, “let’s not upset her. She’s been through enough and this other stuff can wait.”

She looked up at him. “You’re right.” He leaned down and kissed the top of my hand. “I’m glad you’re okay, sweetie. That’s all that matters.”

“Tell Max to leave,” I said. “I really don’t want him here.”

She sighed in that special way when something bothered her. “I’ll let him know.”

Asshole had fucked up my life, and now he snowed one over on my parents. Was there no limit to how low he would go?

~~~

Over the next several days, I received flowers from a few coworkers, including Keri (a shocker given the scandal); friends back in California; my brother, who’d also called to chew me out; and even Danny had brought some along when she came to visit. Thankfully, my parents had instructed her not to mention you-know-who, but I could tell he’d gotten to her, too. The look in her big brown eyes was pure angst and worry, but I just didn’t want to hear it. Anything she had to say would be tainted with more of his lies.

Anyway, after three days in the hospital, I was stable, with a few weeks of healing ahead for my cuts and face, and months for my arm. Regardless, I’d be going back to California just as soon as I saw Dr. Bloomfield in a few weeks for my checkup.

My father wheeled me out of the hospital with my mother at my side, and we were again mobbed by the press. Standing off in the distance behind them, I spotted Maxwell Cole, his dark sunglasses covering his eyes as he leaned against his Porsche. Just seeing him sent me into a tailspin of emotions and made my heart feel like it had been filled with cement.

I pretended not to see him.

That night, my parents flew out—my dad needed to get back to work and I begged my mother to go with him. I needed time alone, and Danny had graciously agreed to take me to my follow-up appointments, help me pack, and then get me onto a plane in a few weeks. Everything would soon be behind me. If I could just let go…

But that same night, I found myself on Danny’s laptop, mine having been totaled in the crash, surfing the news sites for…well, I didn’t know. I just wanted answers, I guess. But I wasn’t ready for what I found. Pages and pages about the crash. But the bigger story was what Maxwell Cole had done immediately following. I couldn’t stop crying.

What did I do? What did I do?

The answer: I had just fucked my life. And his.

I was possibly the ugliest person on the planet. And I’d hurt him. I’d put him in the worst position ever.

I’d destroyed his life. The man l loved.

Two Weeks Later

“Are you going to be okay?” Danny asked from her idling black Jetta standing at the curb just outside the C.C. headquarters.

With my two black eyes, very bruised face, and large bandages covering my nose, forehead, and chin, I tried not to smile. It still hurt way too much, but Drs. Bloomfield and Meyers had both said I was good to go and could do any follow-up with my family doctor back in California.

“Yeah, I’ll just be a few minutes,” I said. She’d be taking me to O’Hare right after and then going back to our apartment to pack up her own stuff. She was going to move in with her boyfriend—finally!—and give their relationship a serious go. I planned to send her a case of vitamin water as soon as I got to California. With the way those two went at it, I was sure I’d be sending diapers and formula soon, too. Honestly, though, I couldn’t be happier for her.

I got out of the car and entered the lobby, passing men hauling boxes and furniture on dollies.

There was no security at the desk, but why would there be? C.C. no longer existed.

I rode to the top floor, exiting into an office space stripped of any personal items. All evidence of the life that once breathed here was gone, and I wondered what would happen to Keri and all of the others who once worked here. With luck, they’d all find other positions, but there was no doubt this had become a major speed bump in their lives.

The guilt I felt for the part I’d played was overwhelming.

I walked into Mr. Cole’s office and found him staring out the window at the Chicago skyline. He wore his usual black suit, but his silhouette lacked that rigid posture I’d become so accustomed to. I wouldn’t call him relaxed or sad, but simply…different.

“Hi,” I said, trying not to startle him. He was expecting me after my text this morning—our first communication since the world turned upside down—but he looked deep in thought.

Hands shoved into his pockets, he slowly turned and looked at my face. I pretended not to feel anything from the gesture, but I couldn’t suppress the hope he might forgive me and still want me. Despite everything. Despite my having made an epic cluster fuck out of his life.

“So,” I said, unsure where to start.

“How are you healing?” he asked.

I shrugged. “Okay, I guess. They had to put pins in my arms, so that will take longer, but you already know that.” He’d hired Dr. Meyer to ensure I was put back together nicely.

“Glad to hear it.”

There was a long, long awkward moment of silence. “I don’t know what to say. Somehow, I’m sorry doesn’t seem to cut it.” He’d lost everything because of me.

“I’m not sure you’re entirely to blame. Nancy Little and my mother had a hand in all this, too.”

I knew that was true, but he hadn’t been counting on them to trust him. Still, I had to ask, “So at what point did your mother decide to throw me under the bus?” She’d had us followed by a photographer and then leaked the images to the press.

How’d I know?

Because I’d watched the press conference he’d held to clear the air. For me. And I believed him. Every damned word.

He replied, “I’m guessing my mother decided after you and I went to Milan. That little tabloid episode probably gave her the idea.”

“I’m so sorry I blamed you,” I said. “I should’ve known you wouldn’t do something like that.”

“Yes, you should’ve, and why didn’t you trust me?” I could see the hurt in his eyes.

The truth wasn’t an easy thing to say, but I felt he deserved it.