Looking back over my shoulder, Cruise is standing by the car. Seeing things in a new perspective, it appears like he’s standing guard. Am I paranoid or has my whole world just flipped upside down?

Back in the coffee shop, where I sit, Alexander arrives with a coffee in each hand. After setting them down on the table between us, he sits across from me in a leather wingback and rests his forearms on his legs. “I want to know who killed my mother.”

Caught completely off guard, I ask, “What?”

“I can’t just let a murderer roam the streets. She was killed, and I need to know why and by whom.”

“The newspapers said why.”

“I don’t care what the papers or the media said. It’s lies. It’s a cover-up.”

My heart beats harder, pounding against my ribs, as I stare at the man who’s being eaten alive by his anger. Reaching over, I wrap my hands over his clasped ones and whisper, “Alexander, she was mugged. She tried to fight the attackers, and they shot her.”

His pain is evident when he looks down, that line between his eyebrows prominent. “It wasn’t over a fucking necklace and a wedding ring.” His eyes lift to mine quickly.

“Her jewelry was very valuable.”

“Her life was worth more than fucking jewelry.”

“You’re right. It was, but not to them.”

“Don’t say that.”

“I’m not saying it to hurt you. I’m saying it because I’ve seen you changing over the years, and I’m not sure I like what you’re becoming.”

He shakes my hands away and sits back, out of my reach. “You can leave then.”

“Don’t say things you don’t mean.”

I’ve seen Alexander happy, turned on, mischievous, angry, but the dark, brooding expression on his face isn’t one I’ve ever seen directed at me. Until this moment. When he doesn’t respond, moments from our three-year relationship start to flash through my head . . .

“Why me?” I’ve only spent a small amount of time with him. When I look at him, how handsome he is, how strong he is, I can’t see it, what he sees in me.

Touching my cheek, he presses his forehead to mine, and whispers, “I want to see you again. I want to see you every day.” Leaning back, he looks into my eyes. “Do you want to see me again, Sara Jane?”

It was such a loaded question for an innocent girl, especially one already so blinded by love. We’ve fought, we’ve made up, we’ve laughed, we’ve fucked, and we’ve made love over and over again. Our relationship has been a roller coaster. But my answer will always be the same. Yes, I want to stay. But he’s not asking me to stay here. He’s asking me to leave . . . if I want to. “Alexander?” I wait, my heart aching in ways I’ve never felt. Will he actually let me walk away?

He rests his ankle across his knee and looks eerily similar to his father sitting at the head of the table this morning. I stand, and he finally speaks, “Sit.”

Our stares are guns, ready to fire and weighted with pain and anger as we silently challenge each other. Again, he says, “Sit down, Sara Jane.” Crossing my arms over my chest, I shake my head, unable to speak with the same authority in which he speaks to me. He stands before me, reaching his full six-foot-three height, and towers over me. “Please.”

Taking in a jagged breath, I relent and sit down. I’m not sure if I’m losing a battle or winning the war by doing so, but with the years I’ve invested, I know my heart is not my own. I’ll sit another minute. I owe him that much. “That’s twice today you’ve taken a tone with me as if you own me.”

“I do own you. You can’t argue that.”

“I can argue that you’d be lost without me.”

“I was lost when I met you.”

My emotions are exposed instantly when my eyes begin to water. I feel as though I’ve been slapped. “Why are you talking to me like this, like I don’t mean anything to you?”

He leans forward again and looks around before turning back to me. “You mean everything to me. Everything, Firefly, but I have enough bullshit to deal with. If you’re not happy, I’m not going to make you stay.” Not going to make me stay. He knows he could though, yet he’s abandoning that position. A lot like how I feel right now. Abandoned.

“Why do you sound relieved from the thought of me leaving?”

“You know, deep down, it would be better for you to go. Both of us know that. Doesn’t mean I want you to, but I don’t know if I can make you happy any longer.”

Or maybe he just doesn’t want to try anymore. “You sound like your father.”

I’m met with narrowed eyes and a curious crease in his forehead. Tilting his head, he asks, “And what would you know about my father?”

“For as long as we’ve dated, it’s interesting how little I know about him.”

“Then what are you talking about?”

I pull the invitation from my backpack and drop it on the table between us.

He grabs it and without even opening it asks, “Why do you have this?”

“You know what it is?” His silence answers my question. “Why, after all these years, is your father inviting me to one of his parties?”

I see his Adam’s apple bob with a thick gulp, and he glances to Cruise just outside the dusty window. When he looks back, he asks, “What’s going on?”

“I had breakfast with your father, though I lost my appetite early enough I’m not sure I can say I actually ate anything.”

His left hand begins to shake before his other hand covers it. Any of the kindness I’m used to seeing in his eyes has disappeared. “Were you going to tell me?”

“That’s why I texted you to meet me. I just didn’t expect to find you flirting with Maya when I arrived.”

“I wasn’t flirting. She came over to me.”

“If that had been some guy talking to me, with his hand on me, you would have been furious.”

“There was a guy. Who the fuck was that?”

“Nobody that matters.”

“He knew your name so he’s obviously somebody.”

“He’s a guy from class. Like I said, nobody. So don’t turn this around on me.” I sit back tucking my legs under me, trying to physically pretend this conversation is not an argument. “I had every intention of telling you about breakfast and this invitation when I arrived on campus this morning.”

“Tell me now.” His lips are tight as he stares at me like he’s seeing me in a new light.

“I don’t want to talk to you right now.” I grab my backpack and swing it over my shoulder before snatching the invitation out of his hand.

My wrist is grabbed before I can walk away. He stands again and steps as close as he can to me, his chest pressed to my shoulder. “I’m tired. I didn’t get any sleep—”

“Then maybe you should have stayed in bed with me.”

I’m released and he turns his back. His breath is harsh, his temper hidden from view, and I walk out. When I see Cruise, he says, “See you later, SJ.”

Keeping my head down when I pass, I hide the tears in my eyes and reply, “Later.”

I don’t know how I manage to hold it together all the way back to campus. Maybe it’s the humiliation I feel inside, the same feeling I want to hide from the world. He’s never spoken to me in that way, in that tone, or looked at me as though I was duplicitous. Until now.

I’m late to my first class, and as per my professor’s rule, I’m locked out. “Damn it.” I sigh, defeat dropping my shoulders. I head outside and across the quad to sit on an open bench. I’m not sure if it’s the weather that’s turned chilly or the fight I just had lingering in my veins, but I shiver in response.

Looking around, I’m relieved he didn’t follow me. My thoughts are all over the place, and I can’t seem to pinpoint why we’re even fighting. I lie down on the bench and close my eyes. When was the last night I had enough sleep? When was the last time he stayed through the night? Walking out of that coffee shop replays in my head. Everything with him is an enigma leading to more buried secrets. I still don’t have the answers I want or need and it doesn’t seem Alexander’s ready to share.

At one time, I was okay with him having a life outside the one he had with me. He wasn’t cheating and I was busy with school, so I let a lot slide. But after this morning, I can’t pretend like I used to . . .

The tips of our fingers come together with the blue sky as a backdrop. My head rests on his lap while he leans against the base of a tree and the spring air fills my lungs. I love the simple times with Alexander the best. Being at the park today reminds me how busy our lives have become since I started college last fall. He takes my hand and brings it to his mouth, then confesses, “I miss you sometimes.”

“I miss you all the time.”

“I’m here whenever you need me.”

“I always need you, Alexander.” I sit up and face him. “But tell me where you go when you leave me?”

“I would never leave you. You will be the one to walk away. Not me.”

“I don’t think I could.”

“What keeps you here?”

“My heart.”

“You’re speaking through emotions.” He spins a silver ring in the shape of a crown around my finger. I don’t wear it all the time, but I have been lately, missing him. He gave it to me last year, telling me I would always be his queen. “What does your rational side say?”

“My emotions are rational.”

“You’re nineteen, Sara Jane. One day you’ll be too smart to give your feelings so much power.” He kisses me, soft and gently, like every time he kisses me. “When you wise up, promise you’ll leave me.”

Surprised, I ask, “Why do you want me to leave?”

“Because you deserve better than I’ll be able to give you. And one day you’ll discover that too. You’ll see me for who I am instead of who you want me to be.”

“I think your emotions weigh down the better parts of yourself.”

“You wear rose-colored glasses, Firefly.”

“I wear my love for you, right here in the open.”

“You’ll regret that one day.”

I kiss him first on his cheek then on his lips and whisper, “How could I ever regret something that feels this right?”

His fingers weave into the back of my hair and he holds me close. “I love you. Till the day I die, I’ll love you.”

“When did it get so hard?”

The warmth of his voice blankets the chill inside me. I open my eyes, slowly adjusting, and find myself buried in his shadow. “When was it ever easy, Alexander?”

I sit up and he sits down. “I’m sorry.” Vulnerability, not something I often hear, but I can now in his tone. It draws me to want to touch him, to hold him, to give him time to say what he needs to say. He runs his hands through his hair and I notice how much it’s grown when the locks fall back over his eyes. “When I stood over my mother’s casket, I vowed I would find the person who murdered her. I won’t stop until that person pays for what he’s done.”

“Pays by having justice served by the police or like a vigilante you’re going to take matters into your own hands?”

Tucking a section of my hair behind my ear, he says, “Why can’t it be both?”

“Because it’s not healthy to seek revenge, and it’s not safe for you to hunt for a killer.”

“When you put it like that—”

“You’ll stop?” I ask, hope foolishly filling my chest.

He chuckles. “No, I can’t.”

“You’re not Batman, Alexander. What you’re doing is dangerous and irresponsible.”

“How is it irresponsible to want to stop a murderer?”

“It’s irresponsible to my heart. If anything happens to you—”

“You wanted to know what I do with my nights. I’ve now told you, so I’m not going to continue this conversation.”

Frustration sets in again, and I spit out, “What are you doing with your days?”

“I go to work. I’m with you or my friends. There’s no great mystery to solve here.” He shrugs. “I’m an average kind of guy.”

Now I laugh. Average guy. Ha! “There’s nothing average about you.”

When his arm comes around me, he pulls me close and kisses my head. “That’s why you love me.”

“I love you endlessly.” Leaning on his shoulder, I add, “But sometimes I worry that I also love you regardless of what my instincts say.”

“Your instincts are always right. I want to tell you everything, Sara Jane, but I also want you to be happy. It’s a line I struggle to toe.”

I kiss his temple and take in his intoxicating scent. “I wish things were that easy.”

“But like you said, it’s never been easy for us. So maybe we just accept our fate and, like Bonnie and Clyde, live on the edge.”

“I used to dream I was Snow White and I would meet my Prince Charming.”

“You can still have that dream, but I don’t think I can give you the ending you want.”

“You mean a happy one?”

“Any that involves that easy life you want.”

Running my fingers over the veins on top of his hand, I say, “I’ll take Bonnie and Clyde if it means I get you.”

“You have me. You always did, Firefly.” Leaning forward, he says, “I don’t want to change the subject, but we need to talk about my father.”

“Okay.” I lick my lips, and then tug the lower one in when the memory of the confrontation comes back. “Why did he invite me to breakfast?”

Alexander scans the area before replying. “I don’t know, but I don’t want him near you. He’s dangerous.”

“He’s your father, Alexander.”

“I don’t want you near him. This isn’t a discussion.”

“Is it a command?”

“Yes.” Running his hand through his hair, he shakes his head, and then says, “Yes, Sara Jane. This is a command. I’ve never made another of you, but I don’t trust him. If he suddenly wants to see you, there is a motive. Don’t get caught in the crossfire.”

“I can’t just ignore him.”

“Ignore him anyway.”

“What do I say?”

“Anything that keeps you safe.”

When I move in front of him, he takes me by the hips, and I look up. “You told me you want revenge. Now tell me the rest.”

He drops his head and rests the top against my stomach. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I love you too much.”

“You’re living two lives. Don’t you see?”

When his steel blue eyes look up, he admits what I fear, “I only see the justice I want served.”

“God, Alexander, you’re impossible. We’ve been together forever, and I feel like I barely know you.”

When he stands up, he tilts his head down. “You know me, Sara Jane. You know me better than anyone.”

“Then stop lying to me.”

“You’re maddening.”

“I’m maddening? You’re the most frustrating man I’ve ever known. You have a talent for talking in circles but make everyone believe they’ve gotten answers. I’ve given you a free pass for too long. I’m not going to sit idly by anymore.”

“Think about what you’re asking me.”

“I have. For years.”

“And you’re willing to walk away, after all we’ve been through, after all the time we’ve invested?”

“You just told me I’d be better off if I left. You’ve said it before too. But now you’re turning this back on me with after all we’ve been through?” My hands hold tight to the straps on my backpack to hide my nerves as I lay down my ultimatum. “I don’t want to leave, but you’re standing there holding the door open. Close it and tell me everything or I walk out.”

Irritation prods my pride into action. I look at him one more time, praying he opens up to me. When he doesn’t, I drop my head, disappointed and disheartened. Devastated. Do I go back on my threat? Was it just a threat or was it more? “Why are you doing this?” Tears fill my eyes as I look at him, silently pleading with him to throw me a lifeline.

He doesn’t. This is it. He’s leaving me to accept what he’s willing to give, which I know deep down is not enough anymore.

“Goodbye.” Alexander has his hands tucked in his pockets and his eyes on me. I turn my back to him and head to my next class early, willing to wait there rather than stand here and fall apart publicly. I try to distract myself by going through the material I’m about to be tested on. Alexander Kingwood IV is a prime study in clinical psychology, but like he warned me, my emotions are too involved to see a clear picture.

I thought I was strong. Walking away with a chip on my shoulder, my heart throbs to go back. When I duck inside the psychology building, I run to the stairwell, my emotions consuming me the way Alexander did before them. I grab hold of the railing and break down.

Dropping to the step, I dig out a tissue from my backpack, trying to stop my makeup from running down my face. I should have known today would be awful. It started that way, waking up alone, eating with the devil incarnate. Like an omen. I hadn’t known I’d also go to sleep on my own tonight though. If I’d known I was going to break up with the love of my life, I would have gone home.