He hesitates, like he’s thinking about cutting me off. “So why’re you calling Mrs. Burke?”

“I was hoping she might know an address where I could reach him.”

“Why do you want it?”

I breathe out a breath, getting seriously sick of this guy’s questions. “I just do. I’m a friend and I need to get ahold of him.”

“He’s gone,” he growls.

“I know. He’s in Corsica. I just need his address.”

“If you’re a friend, why don’t you have his phone number?”

It’s taking all my restraint not to punch the intercom. “I’ve tried calling and he doesn’t answer.”

“I’d take that as I sign,” he grumbles.

“Forget it,” I say, lifting my hand to the next button.

“I’ve got his address.”

My heart lurches. “You have it?”

“Stay there,” he barks, then the intercom goes dead.

I’m just about to give up and punch the next button when the door opens and a scrawny old guy with a cane comes hobbling out. He waves a piece of paper in my face. “Why should I give this to you?”

I snatch the paper out of his hand without answering. On is it Alessandro’s messy scrawl with an address in Corsica. I spin and start up the sidewalk.

“You can’t take that, honey,” he says to my back.

I turn around.

“I’m the super. He gave me his address to send anything that shows up for him here.” He raises his bushy gray eyebrows at me. “Which I’m thinking might be you. You’re the one, aren’t you?”

I’m just pulling out my phone to type in the info, and I look up at him. “The one?”

“The one who broke the poor guy’s heart.”

That nearly stops my heart. I type in Alessandro’s information and send up a little prayer that it’s not too late to fix this. “Thank you,” I tell him, handing him the paper.

“You’re welcome.” He spins for the door and disappears through it.

When I get home to my apartment, Jess is at rehearsal. I snatch a sheet of paper from the printer tray and a pen from the kitchen junk drawer, and stand at the counter for a long time, just staring at it.

It’s not enough to tell him I need to talk to him. I need to actually say something. And not just anything, but something that matters. Something that might begin to make up for the horrible things I said to him that made him leave.

I close my eyes and try to think of words to describe the feeling of him running through my veins; how much a part of me he is and always has been; how he makes me something more than I ever could be without him. And then I write it all down.

TERRY IS AMAZING. She seems to know everyone on Broadway. She’s booked me for three auditions in the next two weeks. They’re all for secondary parts, and not a single one is in a musical. But, of all of them, this is the one I really want: Don’t Look Back. Off-Broadway, open run.

I’ve submerged myself in preparing for this role. I’ve been over my lines with Jess a bazillion times, and I spent an hour in Terry’s office yesterday while she coached me for this part. And now, I stand on the stage and look out over the theater, feeling calmer than I have any right to feel. I think Jess is rubbing off on me, because I’m trusting the universe. I’ve let go of everything that stood in my way and held me back. I’m dropping my armor and letting myself show.

Quinn would be so proud.

“Whenever you’re ready, Hilary,” the casting director calls to me from the seats below.

I take a deep breath, sink into my character, and give the performance of my life.

WHEN I GET home, Jess and Hailey are curled into the corner of the sofa, watching Safe Haven. Tears are tracking down Jess’s face and Hailey is stroking her hair. But the second Jess sees me, she pops off the couch.

“What’s the story, morning glory?” When she’s nervous, she regresses back to all her quirky Southernness, but this is worse than usual. Even her accent is stronger. Opening night for her show is tomorrow, so she’s been a big ball of nerves this week.

“It went really well. I think I’ve got a shot.”

She squeals and throws her arms around me, nearly knocking me over. “You’ll come out with us after the show tomorrow? Please?”

It’s been three weeks since our last night out and my disaster with Mike. After I told Jess what happened, she was so mad she wanted to knock out more of his teeth, but I talked her down. The worst part? I miss acting group, but there’s no way I’m going back if he’s there.

“You know I’m super excited for you, and I’ll definitely be front and center at opening night, but I don’t think I’m up for a night out just yet, ’kay?”

Her face pulls into a sympathetic squint. “Yeah, okay. We’ll celebrate, just the two of us, when you get that part.”

“Definitely.” I turn to Hailey, who’s standing near the couch. “Thank you so much for hooking me up with Terry. She’s amazing.” I’ve already told her this a thousand times, but I can’t help saying it again.

She smiles. “My pleasure. I’m sure she’ll come through for you.”

“You ready?” Jess asks her, shrugging into her coat.

Hailey grabs her coat and tugs it on.

“Last rehearsal,” Jess says, pretending to both shake in her boots and bite her nails.

“Break a leg.”

She pecks me on the cheek and pulls the door open. “Love ya!”

“Bye,” I say as she closes it behind them.

I settle onto the couch, picking up the remote to start the movie over again. I’m thumbing through the mail during the previews when someone knocks on the door. Jess probably forgot her keys again.

“Coming!” I call, dropping the mail on my coffee table. But when I haul myself up and pull it open, it’s not Jess.

“Alessandro,” I breathe, unable to find air.

“HILARY.”

As my heart shatters into a million pieces, it’s everything I can do to not break down into a weepy mess right on the spot.

“May I come in?” he asks when all I can manage to do is stand here, gaping.

“Yeah . . . sorry.” I back away from the opening and let him pass. I close the door and stand facing it for several beats of my racing heart, struggling to collect my thoughts. “You got my messages?”

“I did. And your letter. You’re a hard person to ignore.”

Finally, I find the strength to turn to face him. “So, you’re back?”

“All I can offer you are painful memories and my broken soul, but I love you, and if you’ll allow it, I promise to always love you. If that’s enough for you, then, yes, I’m back.”

Oh, God.

I work to keep my breathing even. “You know what I said about Lorenzo being Henri’s father . . . that was just because you were scaring me and I—”

He steps forward and stops me with a finger on my lips. “I don’t blame you. I was scaring myself.” His face pinches a little as he lowers his hand, but he holds my gaze. “I feel like half a man when you deserve someone whole. Letting you see what I really am scares me, but I will, if that’s what you want. And after you know the real me, I won’t hold you to any promises if you want to leave.”

“I want to earn your trust back, Alessandro. I want you to feel like you can open up to me and know you could never scare me away.”

His eyes are on fireas he cups my chin in his palm and runs a thumb along my bottom lip, liquefying my insides with his touch. I launch myself into his arms, and he holds me tight and kisses me hard. He finally breaks the kiss, his lips skimming across my cheek, his soft breath raising goose bumps all over my body as he whispers, “I trust you with my life.”

I kiss him again and put every ounce of myself into it, peeling off his jacket and letting it drop to the floor. His fingers twist into my hair as I slide my hands under the tails of his button-down onto warm skin at the waist of his jeans. “Make love to me,” I whisper against his lips.