Dinner at Matthew’s house was good—better than good. The entire family was excited to hear the news, and even more thrilled to find out how far along they were. At sixteen weeks, they were able to find out the sex of the baby, but they’d decided to keep that to themselves for a little bit longer. I didn’t blame them. With the stress and worry over the last three months, praying every day that they’d make it to the next, fearful that saying anything or having the slightest bit of hope would somehow jinx it, they deserved to keep a little something for themselves.

So many things started to make sense. Such as why Christine never got in the pool over Labor Day weekend when we were all at the park. I noticed she had put on some weight, but I would’ve never guessed it was baby weight. She didn’t even have a stomach yet. It also made sense why she was so anxious when she had to take me to the clinic. It wasn’t just bad memories, but because she knew she had a life inside her, and when I realized that, it made my heart hurt for her. Even though it all worked out, I couldn’t help but be upset with myself and Holden for having her around me when I was so sick. Had she caught it, things could’ve been made worse.

But I refused to allow myself to think negatively. It didn’t matter what could’ve happened, the important thing was that it didn’t—which Matthew and Christine made sure of. Apparently, their previous miscarriages all happened between weeks eight and eleven. This time, when they made it to week twelve, they didn’t tell anyone because they wanted to wait until after the doctor’s appointment. Once they saw their doctor and even got to see the baby, they still weren’t ready, worrying that announcing the news too soon would cause bad things to happen. And each week they made it to the next, there was one more reason to wait. Finally, after their last appointment, in which they were able to find out the gender, they decided it was time.

I only wished Holden had been here to experience this.

Matt had asked where he was, and when I told him what Holden had said to me before leaving the house, he gave me an odd look, but I ignored it.

Something was going on with Holden, and I was afraid to say too much for fear my brother would figure things out. Then again, I began to wonder how bad that would be. I’d started to think a lot more about this at night while curled up in Holden’s arms. While he slept, his soft, even breaths dancing along my chilled, bare skin, I’d lay there with my fingers playing in the short, curly hairs on the side of his head, imagining how everyone would react if they knew the truth.

Just thinking about the curly hairs on the sides of Holden’s head made me want to rush home and climb beneath the covers with him, just so he could lay his head on my chest and I could run my fingertips through them. When he let his hair grow too long, the curls went away, and they’re only noticeable just above his ears. The top of his hair had some body to it, but rather than give it a curly look, it made it seem more like he’d just crawled out of bed. Or ran his fingers through it a couple million times. Or really, it looked like I’d taken ahold of it while he buried his face between my thighs—which was a more plausible reason than anything else, considering how much he enjoyed spending time down there.

“I’m so excited for you two. I really am. As soon as you guys decide to reveal the gender, make sure I’m included. And if it’s a party, let me plan it. I have so many ideas, and I can totally do it without knowing what you’re having. I don’t have the office set up yet, but this would be a really good reason to get my butt moving.” I hugged Christine and patted my brother on his chest. “I’m really so happy for you guys.”

After saying goodbye for the hundredth time, I finally got in my car and headed home. I’d spent hours at their house, all of us staying late, and had assumed Holden would be back by the time I pulled in the driveway, but I didn’t see his car. I wondered if he’d parked in the garage, which he used to do all the time when I’d first moved in, but now he seemed to prefer to keep his car next to mine in the driveway. I never asked, and he never explained. It just was what it was.

But when I opened the front door, I realized he still wasn’t home. I tried his cell a few times, but he didn’t answer. I figured it was noisy where he was so I switched to my text messages, thinking I had more of a chance of him answering that. But when I pulled up the app, I noticed the last message from Connor, and suddenly, Holden’s absence made sense. Connor had asked if Holden had fallen for it—whatever “it” was. If that was all Holden had seen, I wouldn’t be surprised why he took off. But it didn’t show me I had an unread message, so I assumed he’d read it all. And if he did, he’d see I hadn’t responded in a while.

Figuring he only needed a few hours out with his friends, maybe a few drinks to deal with Connor’s ignorant text, I sent him a simple message: I’m home…will be waiting for you naked in bed. I added a winky face and prayed that would be enough.

As I lay in bed all alone, I realized far more than I ever did with him next to me, and I immediately hated how that happened. The line, absence makes the heart grow fonder, is rather accurate, but I loathed that it was. We shouldn’t have to lie in bed next to a cold, empty spot to realize just how much we need the person who occupies it. We should know that every night while that person is there. But for reasons I’d never comprehend, it’d taken this long for me to see everything clearly. Either that or it was the news of Matt and Christine’s baby. Whatever it was, I had a lot to think about, but at least I had plenty of time to do it in, considering it didn’t seem like Holden would be coming home anytime soon.

I’d loved Holden almost my whole life. When I was younger, it could’ve been described as puppy love. Infatuation. It was hearts on a notebook and our names sketched in script on lined paper. As I got older, it developed into a deep friendship. He was someone I could trust, someone who would never hurt me and would protect me. He truly was my hero, and staring at the ceiling now, I knew when I had given him my heart.

Yes, I had been upset and heartbroken over the whole Justin situation, but if I stopped and truly looked back at that time in my life, I’d see how quickly I had actually gotten over that breakup. Most of my excuses for coming to see him, spending time with him on his couch, wasn’t because I was upset over some kid who probably wouldn’t have lasted longer than ten seconds in bed. I’d gone to see Holden so much because I’d wanted to. I’d wanted to see Holden and be with him, share the same air as him and feel him next to me.

The five years that followed that time had been a mistake on my part. Had I known then what I knew now, I more than likely never would’ve moved away to college. And if I did move away, I would’ve made sure to stay more in contact with my family—all of them. But more than that, I would’ve made sure to keep Holden in my life. Because I needed him. I needed him then, and I needed him now.

It wasn’t like I’d spent all this time uncertain of what I wanted, whether it be Holden and a future with him, or the money from the show. I comprehended exactly what I wanted, even before Holden had discussed waiting it out to see how things would go. I was simply too scared to make a decision, because my entire future rode on whatever I chose. And no matter what Holden said about what happened after Vegas, how I’d disappeared and turned my back on him—he was the one who’d vanished. I had no recollection of that night, and he knew it, and rather than comfort me, fill me in on what I couldn’t remember, he ignored me. I understood his reasons for staying away, how he must’ve felt during that time and the guilt he carried around with him. But that was no excuse. The last five years could’ve been so different had he acted on it, and no matter what he said now, nothing would make that fear go away. The fear of him doing it again. Of me giving up fifty thousand dollars for him, only for him to vanish once more.

Much like he did tonight.

When I opened my eyes, realizing I had fallen asleep at some point, the morning sun bathed the room in its soft glow. I stretched, and then immediately sat up, realizing his side of the bed was still empty. It hadn’t been slept in. Fear choked me, worst-case scenarios flickering through my mind. I jumped out of bed, threw on the first T-shirt I came across, and flung the door open. I didn’t find him in the living room, but when I peered through the front window, I noticed his car parked in the driveway next to mine. That’s when I heard noises coming from down the hall.

I raced back there and found him in my old room, taking apart the furniture. He already had the dresser broken down, the mirror leaning against the wall, and the bed mostly dismantled by the time I walked in. He sat on the floor with a screwdriver in his hand, his tongue peeking out, and his hair in even more disarray than usual.

“Does this mean I’m officially staying in your room now?” I started to squat, to join him on the floor, but his eyes stopped me. The anger darkening the green and lining his brow kept me from sitting down. In fact, it kept me from breathing, as well. “What’s going on?”

“Your clothes are in bags. I’ve already put them in your car for you. I’m not sure how you plan on getting all this out of here, but I figured I’d save time and go ahead and break it all down for you. It should make moving it out easier. The patio table will have to come out of the gazebo, and the chairs are still in the garage. I can’t really do much with the couch in the other room, so it can stay there until you arrange for a U-Haul or whatever you plan on using to take this all with you. Just don’t take too long, because I want it out.”

“I-I don’t understand. W-what happened, Holden?” I had to fight back the tears, but that didn’t stop them from filling my voice and breaking my words. “Last time I saw you, you were fucking me in your bathroom, then you left the house and now you’re…now you’re kicking me out? Is this because of Connor’s text message?”

His eyes snapped to mine, and the heated anger I saw reflecting in them shattered my heart. “I was a fool to think you’d actually choose me. To assume you’d give this an honest shot. Silly me…here I was believing you were putting forth the effort in seeking a long-term relationship with me. But I was wrong. Because the whole time, you were talking to that asshole, ‘planning’ things behind my back. And you know what? I had an idea you were still talking to him. I guess I just trusted that you wouldn’t stab me in the back.”

“I didn’t—”

“No…you’re absolutely right, Janelle. You didn’t stab me in the back. You faced me, looked me right in the eye, and stuck your knife straight through my chest while I watched. I just want to know why. Was it the money?”

I had no clue what he was talking about, but I refused to give up without a fight. “I didn’t stab you anywhere. Not in the back or the chest. And I did give it a fair shot—I’m still giving it one. I want you, Holden. Don’t let one stupid text change anything. Clearly, you saw that I haven’t been responding to him.”

“Yeah. And I also noticed that you hadn’t told him the change of plans.”

“What is there to tell him?” I raised my voice, partly out of fear, but also from frustration. I couldn’t fathom losing him, especially over something silly like this, but I’d be lying if I didn’t say his refusal to calm down and talk about this rationally pissed me off. “You wanted to remove the six-month deadline and just let things happen and see where they’d go. So what was I supposed to tell him?”

“Exactly that.”

“Why when I could just wait until either January, when he was already expecting this to be over with, or until I had a definitive answer? That made more sense to me, and I’m sorry for not explaining that to you, but I knew how much you hated talking about him.”

“Just tell me, Janelle…was it about the money?”

I fought against rolling my eyes and decided to pause for a full inhalation instead. “Yes, Holden. It’s always been about the money. You knew that from the beginning. If you chose to ignore it and not see it for what it was, then I’m not sure what else to tell you.”

I had never kept it from him. He understood there was nothing between me and Connor, and that marrying him wouldn’t ever be a real thing, only a way to get the money. Hell, he’d been informed of that from day one, yet he still offered to move me in with him as part of his deal. Not to mention, when we talked about exploring what we had between us, and again when he surprised me with the lease on the storefront, I was very open and honest with him regarding my fear over giving up the money and still losing him. I hadn’t kept any of that a secret, yet now, he acted as if I’d never told him any of it.

“That’s what I thought,” he practically said to himself, as if his words weren’t meant for me. But I heard them all the same, and they hurt more than I’m sure he intended. “Listen, Janelle…this isn’t gonna work out. I should’ve never believed it would. I guess I got wrapped up in having someone with me. I didn’t stop and look at the bigger picture. In the end, I got what I wanted, and you got what you wanted, so I guess we’re even.”

“I got what I wanted? What did I want, Holden? Huh? And what did I get?”

He stood from the floor and grabbed an envelope off the top of the empty dresser. I hadn’t seen it in two months, but I knew exactly what it held. “Signed. Sealed. And delivered. Here’s your divorce. Just like you asked for, except four months early. Our part of the deal is done. Completed. Feel free to move on and go after what you want.”

I wanted to scream at him, slap him until he stopped listening to his own thoughts and heard the words I told him—the words proclaiming that he was what I wanted. But there was something in his eyes that prevented me from continuing. The severe coldness displayed left me unable to speak. The hope I’d held onto from the beginning started to float away and it became painfully obvious that nothing I said would change his stance.

“As far as the storefront goes…you haven’t technically started your business yet. I was thinking I could sublease it out, but if you’d like, I could sublease it to you. But don’t feel pressured to take it; I know how expensive it is and how much you never wanted it in the first place. I figured since you haven’t done anything with the space yet, I’m not causing you any irreparable damage.”

I clenched my teeth and balled my hands into fists, holding myself back from either wrapping my arms around him and pleading with him to listen and give me a chance, or physically attacking him. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to love him or hate him, and that war only made things worse.

I nodded, acknowledging him without words, because I didn’t trust myself to speak.

“There are still some clothes of yours in my room and in the laundry room. Feel free to finish getting ready—take a shower if you need to, use the bathroom, eat breakfast. I’ll be in here finishing this. And I guess just keep me in the loop of what you plan to do with all this.”

“I don’t want any of this. Throw it all away for all I care.” I swallowed down my need to cry. Although this time, my tears were made of more than anger. They were mixed with pain. Pure agony. An absolute broken heart, unlike I’d ever experienced before. If I thought flying home after Vegas alone was bad, nothing compared to walking back to his room alone.

After almost twenty minutes of sitting on the edge of his bed with my head in my hands, crying unlike I’d ever cried before, I finally managed to pull myself together enough to get ready and leave. As pathetic as it was to cry in his room by myself, it proved to be therapeutic, because it reminded me how I was the only one I could depend on to wipe away my tears.

And as I drove away with my clothes in bags in the back seat, I was reminded that superheroes don’t exist. Not even the ones who didn’t have powers from other planets. In fact, it was the first time I believed that I had a better chance of running into a man who could fly than I did finding a man who wore a mask at night to fight the bad guys. I learned I needed to start believing in the ones who’d been bitten by an insect and suddenly had superhuman powers, or the ones created in a lab.

Because real heroes didn’t exist.

No one would come rescue me.

As I drove away from Holden York, I learned just how alone I was.

“I must say, Janelle, your call surprised us all.” Samantha Verdurmen, one of the producers on the show, sat across from me at a large mahogany desk in New York City. “Last time we spoke to Connor, he said you two were planning a wedding for next summer.”

“Well, things happened unexpectedly.” Even though I sat here with a smile on my face, it didn’t mean my heart had stopped hurting. It remained shattered in my chest, but I chose to ignore it, doing what I did best—moving on and turning my back to the past. “As you’re aware, I had to get divorced, so that took some time.”

“And I see you’ve gotten the papers signed?” She picked up the envelope and pulled out the papers with Holden’s signature scratched along the bottom. I hadn’t even looked at it, unable to see his name in ink, dried, dissolving the marriage I had just barely gotten to enjoy.

After leaving Holden’s house, I didn’t know where else to go, so I stayed at a hotel for a couple of days while Connor helped me sort it all out. He’d called the show and found out the next steps we needed to take. We’d planned this meeting so they could guide us in how to proceed. They’d even set us up in a fancy two-bedroom suite.

“I won’t lie, Miss Brewer, I didn’t expect you’d get these signed. We were thinking you had changed your mind.”

I glanced at the other people in the room—none of whom I recognized. They were all suits, leaning back in their leather chairs, executives in every sense of the word, regarding me silently. Samantha was the only one who spoke, and even she remained vague most of the time.

“Well, if I’m being honest, I almost did change my mind. By the time those papers were signed, I wasn’t the one who asked for it.” I couldn’t keep the pain from my voice any longer. It may have been a week since I walked out of his house with the envelope in my hand, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. In fact, if anything, it only made it worse. Because I hadn’t heard one word from him.

I’d spoken to my family—each of them—at least once since I left, telling them I had gone to New York with friends for a girls’ trip I completely made up, and not one of them even mentioned his name. It hurt. A lot. But I had to forge on. I couldn’t dwell on his decision, because in the end, he’d made it based on my actions. On my inability to communicate to Connor regarding my feelings and desires for Holden. I was the only one to blame.

But the thing that hurt most, even though I hadn’t truly expected it, is that he hadn’t come after me. He’d dropped me just like he had after Vegas.

“So what happened? Why the change of heart on his part?” she asked, sounding more like a reporter than the producer of a lame reality show.

“It doesn’t matter.” I sat up straighter, hoping my body language conveyed that this topic was off limits. “What’s important is that I did my part, got the papers signed, and now all that’s left is to marry Connor and then collect our money.”

“Well, you still have to file for the divorce. This is only step one.” She held up the folder. “If you’d like, we have an attorney on staff who could represent you and have this taken care of on your behalf.”

I hesitated, really thought about her offer. It sounded like a dream, not having to deal with the reality of the dissolution of a marriage I’d only recently started to accept. It would mean I could move on and lick my wounds, while working toward collecting the check—the whole reason I was even in this position to begin with.

We spoke a bit more. I asked her questions about the attorney and how filing the papers worked, about how long it would all take and when I would be able to legally marry Connor. She asked me some questions about my views on marriage and if I thought Connor and I would be able to make a real go of things. I almost laughed at her when she asked me that. Our prize money wasn’t contingent on our relationship, so I didn’t have to be in love with him or even pretend we were getting married for the right reasons. Certain I had nothing to lose—and no one else to talk to—I chose to be honest with her and everyone in the room. I opened up about Holden and where things stood before I woke up that fateful morning. I explained how I’d felt before and after he chose to kick me out of his bed, his house, and his life, all within fifteen minutes.

It seemed that was enough to get Samantha to finally cut the act. Her hard exterior began to soften as we spoke, and she offered me insight and even a few unsought words of advice. I replayed them in my head over and over on the way back to the hotel. On the way back to Connor. In all honesty, I felt lost. Her words helped more than they hurt, but that still didn’t mean I had all the answers. At least I knew the game plan and what I wanted to do. I’d decided where I wanted to go after here and how I planned to get there. If only I could find out what I’d had to drink that night in Vegas that made me black out, because I’d get an IV of it this minute if it would erase all memory of this heartache.

When I opened the door to the suite, I found Connor in the living room, bending some blonde over the back of the couch. I groaned—he wasn’t supposed to hear me, but this wasn’t the first time I’d walked in on Connor fucking some random woman in our communal space, and we’d only been here two days.

“This is the reason I prefer to stay in my own room.”

“If you spent more time with me, I wouldn’t need to find company.”

I opened the door to my bedroom and slammed it behind me, unable to deal with him any longer. I was just happy this process was almost over, and then I wouldn’t have to worry about putting up with him ever again. I tossed my purse to the side and threw myself onto the bed, succumbing to the exhaustion I’d been living with since being kicked in the chest a week ago.

Even though I dreaded sleep—because I couldn’t close my eyes without seeing his face, without hearing his voice or feeling his touch—I couldn’t fight it. My body was spent, probably because I’d expended so much energy due to my broken heart.

As I gave in to the blackness, I released one final sob.