His voice is low and my heart is so full of pain that I don’t say a word in response. I just let him talk. “The day I saw her I drove around LA trying to decide if I should stay. Trying to determine if I could stay with her in the same town. Then I saw you walking out of the office and I had no doubt—I wasn’t going to leave California because of her. I didn’t have to. I felt nothing for her. But I knew I was going to stay because of you.”

“Jagger, I can’t do this. I don’t want to be the rebound girl,” I say in a low, squeaky voice.

“You are not a rebound. I love you,” he says stressing every word.

“But, Jagger, by definition, I am. Don’t you see? Jump out of one serious relationship into another—that’s the definition.”

“Jules and I had a different kind of relationship. It’s not in the least bit comparable to what you and I have.”

“Jagger, come on. We haven’t known each other long enough for you to know that.”

He scrubs his eyes. “You’re wrong. It’s not about the length of time, it’s about the way we feel when we’re together.”

“That makes no sense. You wanted to marry her. You obviously felt something profound for her.”

“Aerie, yes, I loved her, but all I’m trying to say is it was different. I did buy a ring, but I never asked her to marry me. I just couldn’t do it. Something about it didn’t feel right.” He takes a deep breath. “All she ever cared about was herself. It just took me a while to see it. She was going on more and more auditions. She’d become preoccupied with getting the next big role, but I never knew at what cost. She was up for a lead that she really wanted. She flew out here for a few days and when she came back she was a wreck. She didn’t get the part. I had to work late but got to her as soon as I could. When I did, she was a drunken mess. And, fuck, you want to know what she was upset about?”

I shake my head. His gray eyes are stormy and the pain on his face is excruciating. “That she’d let the director fuck her and didn’t get the part.

“I was done the minute she told me, but she wouldn’t let it end that easy. She pleaded forgiveness for what she called a momentary indiscretion. When I looked into her eyes that night all I saw was how selfish she really was. She had betrayed me and there was no taking that back.”

My heart aches for him but despite that I now know for sure what I am—I’m the rebound girl, and I have to get out. “Jagger, we’re over. I can’t do this.”

He rises to his feet. His jaw, his entire body, even his stance tightens. “Are you sure that’s what you want, Aerie?”

I nod, unable to talk.

“I haven’t been seeing her. Fuck, I told you I didn’t know she would even be there.”

I stand up and put my hands on his chest. I can feel his heart beating. Willing the tears to stay tucked away, I take a deep breath and know I have to let him go. “I’ll never be sure about us anymore, I don’t even think you can be sure, and I can’t live with that.”

His body tenses even more beneath my fingertips. His eyes start to swirl—stormy gray again as he stares at me maybe waiting for me to take it back, but I can’t. It’s true. It’s how I feel.

There’s a deep sadness flowing in waves between the two of us. Then, he turns and walks up the steps without another word leaving me feeling numb and alone. I finally let the tears I’ve been holding back fall like rain. And as the flickering of his orange shoelaces slapping against the floor begins to fade away, I’m left standing there staring at his disappearing image through the glass.

“You know what they say about staring through the glass.” I keep hearing his voice, deep and sexy. I fluff my pillow and drop my head to it for the hundredth time. Inhaling deeply, I try to catch a whiff of him on my sheets. Even as exhaustion overtook me, sleep wouldn’t come, and daylight arrived way too soon.

As the sun rises, I lie beneath my silk coverlet and close my eyes. Not wanting to start another day, I make myself sit up . . . I have to make myself do this. I have to continue my life as it was before I met him. But everywhere I look, he’s there. I hear his voice, smell the lavender scent of his skin, taste the lime he always added to his drinks. I can see him coming out of the shower—his dark hair wet, his body damp, his arms strong enough to lift me onto the counter in one swoop.

The picture of my grandmother sits in a crystal frame beside my bed with one of my uncle next to it. I pick it up. He has deep tan lines and burnished blonde hair. He wears a look of optimism that doesn’t appear in all my memories of him. I considered how he fought depression his whole life, and wondered if it had to do with Madeline. I hadn’t seen his manic side, but I’d heard my parents talk about it and then I read about it in the movie script. He worked in fits and bursts—writing and recording non-stop for days without sleep. His band members were attuned to his personality and accommodated his needs.

Setting the photo down, I glance at the two twin frames—two people plagued by depression, but who led completely different lives. My grandmother lived in the shadows of her depression, letting it control her. My uncle fought it, only giving in when he could no longer fend it off. But they both died young. Would I end up like them? All alone?

I’d told Jagger about Levi, but not the whole story. The only person who knows everything is Dahlia and maybe that’s why she’s always so accepting of my quirks. It’s not a time in my life I ever want to relive. The summer after I returned from Laguna, the summer after I lost my virginity to Levi, I spent a lot of time dwelling on the events of that summer. I had withdrawn even further into my own shell and my parents were concerned. My mood swings got worse, my anger spilled over into our conversations, and all I wanted was to be left alone. I pretended to be sick as often as I could. My grades were dropping because I just couldn’t focus. I had lost control of my life. This went on for about six months until my parents became so worried they took me to a therapist. With medication and many hours of therapy, I found myself. After six months of sitting in my psychiatrist’s office twice a week, I rebuilt a life I could control. Routines that I didn’t deviate from—ever.

I knew I needed structure and stability. That was who I was—until Jagger. I let him in, I let him alter my behavior—change how I approached life, and I found I liked who I had become. I liked living in the moment, having fun, departing from the predictable and mundane. But I shouldn’t have let it happen. I knew what worked for me. So as I set my feet on the rug beneath me, I am determined that today Alice is gone and Aerie is back—not because she wants to be, but because she has to be.

The traffic is ridiculous this morning. When I’m finally a few blocks away from the office, I glance at my watch and wonder if it’s too early to call Dahlia. I reach across to the passenger seat and pull my BlackBerry from its case. The screen doesn’t light up. I never even used it yesterday and it must have died. It’s so unlike me to let that happen. Dahlia is the one either with a dead phone or without one. Plugging my phone into the power cord connected through my console, it flashes and finally lights up. Two missed calls and a text from Jagger.

I listen to the first call and the sound of his voice affects me immediately. “Hey, Alice, guess what? Brett just called and he’s doing a round table casting at two. I guess one of the potential leads dropped out and he wants me to come in. Wish me luck. Oh, and it looks like I’ll be wearing a turtleneck because I’m not sure how well that hickey you gave me will go over.”

I touch my neck where he sucked on it. Then I scroll down to the second call as the tears I promised myself I wouldn’t cry prickle my eyes.