“I don’t get it. What is it with airports?” Renee asks me, grabbing a handful of popcorn and taking them to her mouth. She does it without taking her eyes off the screen, almost as if she were afraid of missing something important.

“It’s part of the formula, I guess,” I tell her with a shrug. We’ve spent the whole afternoon watching old (and bad) romantic comedies and, somehow, it seems that every movie we chose has an airport scene where the man must hurry in order to stop his true love from leaving forever.

Maybe that’s what I should do - book a one-way seat to Paris and then cross my fingers and hope that Liam will race against the clock to make me stay in New York. Yeah, right. Like that would happen.

“C’mon, Cara, cheer up!” Renee tells me suddenly, turning around on the couch so that she’s facing me. Grabbing the popcorn bucket, she shoves it into my hands. “You’ve been gloomy all day. It’s not like that will help.”

“I know,” I sigh. “It’s just driving me crazy, you know? Sitting here and waiting for a miracle. I just wish there was something I could do to make things better,” I tell her, that feeling of frustration taking over me once more. If I wouldn’t look like a maniac, I’d just hurl the popcorn bucket against the TV and howl in frustration. Thankfully, I still haven’t lost my mind completely.

“He’ll come around, you’ll see,” she says, but I can tell by her tone of voice that she’s not entirely sure of what she’s saying. How could she be? It’s not like she knows what’s going in Liam’s mind.

“I don’t know, Renee… Maybe this is it. Maybe I’ve blown things.”

“Oh, stop saying that. Just like you told me… Liam is clearing his head. Sure, he might be a bit pissed, but that doesn’t mean he hates you now. I doubt it that he’ll simply brush aside everything you guys went through.”

“And what exactly did we went through? It was all a lie. None of that was real,” I say, gritting my teeth as I remember every single moment I spent with Liam. How he opened up to me, how he made me want to surrender my body to his… No, I’m wrong - it was real. More real than everything else in my life. But maybe if I pretend that it wasn’t… Maybe that will make the pain go away.

“It was real, Cara. You know that. Sure, it was all a bit unorthodox, but that doesn’t mean that your feeling wasn’t real. And you know men… They get all bitchy and pissed after a fight, but that doesn’t mean they hate your guts. Maybe he is just blowing off some steam,” she continues, doing her best to drag me out of the depressed state I’m in.

“What if blowing off some steam means he’s in some bar right now? He’s probably with another woman already. Maybe he doesn’t even remember my name anymore,” I reply, looking at the screen while my brain rushes through all these hellish scenarios. God, it hurts to just think of Liam in another woman’s arms.

“Jesus, Cara… Seriously, you gotta stop thinking about shit like that. Do I have to lock all the windows in your apartment?”

“Really funny, Renee. No, I’m not going to jump from a window. It’s just… I don’t know, this sucks.”

“Welcome to the rest of your life,” she says with a shrug, and I just give her my death-stare. “I mean it, Cara. Nobody said that love was supposed to be easy. Sometimes it sucks, sometimes it’s painful… Yeah, love is all that. But you can’t lower your arms just because it’s hard. You gotta keep fighting. And the Cara I know is a fighter, not a quitter.”

“I guess you’re right,” I sigh, running one hand through my hair. “What do you say we go out? I’m going insane just sitting here.”

“Now we’re talking!” She chirps happily, jumping up to her feet. “Tequila!” She proclaims, balling one hand into a fist and throwing it up in the air.

“No, no tequila… Just --” I start, but then I hear someone knocking at the door. We look at each other in complete silence, my heart kicking and punching against my ribcage. Could it be…?

Swallowing hard, I start walking toward the door, my mind already conjuring a smiling bright image of Liam. It’s gotta be him. Oh, please, God, let it be Liam.

Feeling a knot in my stomach, I curl my fingers around the handle of the door and turn it. I hold my breath as the door turns on its hinges and - surprise, surprise - there’s no Liam waiting for me in the hallway. Instead, there’s a gangly teenager with a knapsack, his face covered in acne.

“Are you… mm… Caralyn?” He asks me hesitantly, his cheeks turning crimson as his eyes find my cleavage. In my hurry to get to the door, I completely forgot that I was wearing pajama shorts and a skimpy top.

“That’s me,” I tell him, my heart once again lowering its pace in disappointment. I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up.

“Well, this is for you then,” the boy tells me, taking an envelope out from his knapsack.

“Okay… Thank you,” I tell him with a nod, my eyes focused on the black envelope he pushed into my hands. With a parting smile, I close the door and turn to Renee, shrugging as I show her the envelope.

“What’s that?” Renee asks me, looking at me while she kneels on the couch, her arms folded over the headrest.

“No idea, it doesn’t say anything.” I turn the envelope over, but there’s nothing written on the outside. Carefully opening it, I take a single folded sheet of paper from the inside. There’s a golden lettering on the top and it just reads Liam Donovan. My heart resumes his galloping pace once more as I read Liam’s name, and I have to take a deep breath to calm myself.

“What, Cara? Tell me!” Renee demands, getting out from the couch and hurrying to my side. “Read it!”

“Cara, I’m sorry I’ve lied to you,” I start to read, my voice fraught with tension. “As an apology, I’d like to invite you to an event I’m hosting tomorrow night. I hope to see you there. Liam.”

“That’s it?” Renee asks me, surprised.

“That’s it… The directions and time of the event are on the back, but aside from that… There’s nothing else,” I say, my brain fast at work as it tries to decode the meaning behind Liam’s note. Is he apologizing because he wants to make things right? Or is he doing it because… because he wants to end it on a positive note? “Oh, what do I do?”

“What do you mean? You go to that event, whatever it is, and you kick some ass, Cara!” Grabbing me by the shoulders, she forces me to turn toward her and then repeats her words slowly. “Kick. Some. Ass.”