I drop my keys on the kitchen island. Rinaldo drove me home and wanted to come in to wait until Wills returned, but I refused. Wills will need my undivided attention when he gets here and having my ex-boyfriend hovering around would not help matters.

Walking into my room, I shed all of my clothes in favor of a pair of white yoga pants and a light blue t-shirt that matches Wills’s eyes. Padding into my kitchen, I put a teakettle on the stove. I need some calming chamomile right now. Wills will need it later.

While I prepare an icepack for my throbbing cheek courtesy of Wade, my cell rings and I race to see if Wills is answering one of my voicemails or texts. Instead, Val’s face lights up my screen. While I am disappointed not to hear from Wills, Val is a welcome call.

“Hello, Val.”

“Emilie, what’s going on over in LA? I saw a breaking Twitter alert about a scuffle at a party you were at.”

News sure does travel fast. Sighing, I relay what happened with Wade while steeping a teabag in boiling water. “Wade was very drunk. He accused me of being a tease when I slapped him on the set of the shoot. Said I really wanted him.”

“Oh, my God, Emilie. I never would’ve thought he could so such a thing.”

Removing the icepack for a second to let my cheek warm up a bit, I reply, “I did not either.”

“Are you going to press charges?”

I consider her question as I press the icepack back to my cheek. “I gave my statement to the police. But, oui, I will.” He cannot do this to anyone else.

“Good. He deserves to go to jail. What an arse.”

“Agreed.” I try my tea, but it is still too hot. “So, Rinaldo drove me home. Right now I am waiting for Wills to get here.”

“You were with Rinaldo at the party?”

“Oui.” I roll my eyes remembering our last conversation. “He keeps pressing me to get back together.”

After a pause, she says, “I would take Rinaldo up on what he’s offering. Think about it. You two were great together. He’s clearly into you, and already is a part of your friend set. Most importantly, he knows how to handle the media. He got you out of the mansion without getting attention focused on you, correct?”

“Well, yes. He did escort me out of the party and shielded me from the papps. He did all the talking while we waited for his car and said all the right things.”

“Right. And where was Wills?”

I blow on my tea to cool it down. “He was with the paramedics and the police.”

“Come to think about it, where was he before that? Wasn’t he supposed to be your bodyguard? Why wasn’t he doing his job?”

My whole body tenses. Rinaldo pointed out the same thing on our way home. “Honestly, I do not know. He was there, then he disappeared. I needed to go the ladies’ room and when I came out, Wade cornered me out of nowhere.” I shudder once again at the memory of Wade grabbing me. “But it was Wills, not Rinaldo, who came to my defense and pummeled Wade into a bloody pulp.” I complete my last sentence on a sob. Tears stream down my face.

“Oh, Emilie. I wish I were there with you. I’d give you a big hug.”

Gulping air, I reply, “I would like it.”

“Sending one through the phone.”

Sniffling, I say, “At least I got in a good self-defense move on Wade.”

She giggles. “No one ever said you weren’t badass, Emilie.”

A half-smile fills out my uninjured cheek, ending on a yawn. “It has been a very long day, Val. I had better go. Thank you for reaching out to me, it means more than you know.”

“I’m always here for you. Please listen to me. You’d be well rid of Wills. I thought he was a bit of a jerk, anyway. Those brooding, silent types are hot at first, but they come with too much baggage. Go back to Rinaldo. He’s guaranteed fun and the tabloids would eat that up.”

After we hang up, my phone rings a few more times, but I do not have the energy to answer any calls. I let McKenna, Rose, even Cole all go to my voicemail. Feeling numb, I finish my tea and put the mug into the dishwasher, my ears attuned to any noise from the street. A Jeep never makes an appearance.

I walk to the salon and peek out my curtains at my empty driveway. Collapsing on the sofa, I remove the icepack. When the silence stretches for too long, I pull up Maman’s number. She is the only person I have the energy for, and who I know will give me the guidance I need right now.

She picks up on the second ring. “It’s early by you, Emsy, is everything okay?”

Maman’s concern cuts through the last of my reserves and I break down.

“Oh, honey, what’s wrong? Please talk to me.”

I recount what happened tonight, earning gasps when I tell her what Wade did to me. “Oh no. I am so sorry you’re going through all this. But you’re alright? You weren’t hurt?”

I shake my head. “I am okay.”

“Dieu merci.” I can picture her placing her palm over her heart. “You said Wills beat up Wade?”

A small smile lifts my lips, but the pain from my cheek makes them drop. “Oui. He was out cold for a while. But when the paramedics took him away, he was awake.”

“Where is Wills now?”

I swallow. “I am not sure. Rinaldo pulled me away when the police said they wanted to take him to the station. I am waiting for him to join me here.”

“Rinaldo was at the party?”

“Did I not tell you?” I proceed to fill her in about my day—hard to believe less than twenty-four hours have passed since I was filming my cameo.

“Oh. I am so happy Rinaldo was there with you. He is a good man, Emsy.”

A vision of Wills with his arm cocked, ready to strike me, resurfaces. I did not know him at that moment, he was so furious. But when he recognized it was me, he dropped his fist. He would never hurt me. Ever.

“I was happy Rinaldo was able to drive me home.”

“You should rethink breaking up with him. It was only a timing issue before. Maybe you can do something to make your timing better now?”

My mind strays to conversations with my attorney about my taking more control over my schedule. “I am working on gaining more control over my calendar. And my life.”

“I’m sure Wills is a nice boy, but he seems to be very complicated. Perhaps he’s more trouble than what he’s worth. On the other hand, Rinaldo understands your life. He lives in the same world you do.”

I cannot argue with that logic. Where is Wills right now anyway? My heart wants him, not my ex. Besides, Rinaldo cannot see past the schmoozing and media attention to focus on having a real relationship. Another yawn takes over my body.

“Listen, Emsy, I’m going to let you get some sleep. Things will look better in the morning, they always do. Call me when you find out more news. I’m so happy you’re safe.”

After disconnecting the call, I check to see if I missed any texts from Wills. No. I toss the phone onto the coffee table and lean against the pillows. I will just stay here until Wills comes home. I know he will as soon as he can. My eyes flutter shut.

Sunlight streams through my window and caresses my face. The sun does not usually come in my bedroom from this angle. I must have slept later than usual. My eyes open and I blink several times. I am in my salon, not my bedroom. Memories of last night crash around me, forcing me to sit up. I call out for the one man I need to speak with. “Wills?”

Silence.

He did not come here last night. Helplessness washes over me. How can I reach out and help him when he is so closed off from me?

I need to see him.

I pull myself off the sofa, stretch my muscles and make my way to my shower. Soon, after applying quite a lot of makeup to hide the evidence of Wade’s fury, I await the car service to pick me up and bring me to my boyfriend’s flat. Despite what Val and Maman said last night, he is the man I want. We are meant to be together. I need to fight for us.

The beep of a horn announces the arrival of my ride. After checking my purse to be sure I have the surprise I told him about yesterday—a behind-the-scenes experience at “Ninja Heroes”—I lock the front door. While I head to the street, I vow to get my remaining fifty hours of driving practice in so I can get my license as soon as the six-month requirement has passed. I do not like having to depend on someone else to take me from place to place. Even Wills.

Sliding into the back seat, I give the address to the driver and text Wills. Again. He has not responded to my last dozen texts, so I have no illusion that he will respond this time. But I have to try.

McKenna texts me, sending her good wishes and asking me to call her. My finger hovers over the send button, but I close the app instead. No. I need to speak directly with Wills and not seek out any more advice. Val and Maman filled my head up enough last night.

From where I sit, I cannot watch the driver’s movements. Instead, I watch the road signs pass. With each exit, I grow closer to being with Wills again. My stomach flips with nerves. I rub my stomach and try to concentrate on the road.

Of course, my mind refuses to shut down, instead tripling the number of butterflies fighting in my stomach. What if he does not allow me in? What if he is not home? What if he does not want to be with me anymore, realizing that I am too much hassle? I am the one who brings out crazy people and, after everything he has been through, he certainly does not need that in his life.

I sigh, wiping my frustrated tears away from my cheeks. I need to get a grip on my emotions. Wills never cries. I cannot be an emotional wreck.

We turn into his apartment complex. I try to swallow over the lump in my throat but end up coughing.

“Are you alright back there, Miss Dubois?”

I suppress my coughs long enough to answer in the affirmative. I am fine—nothing Wills cannot cure. I hope.

The car comes to a halt. “We’re here.”

The door to the apartment building looks exactly the same as the last time I saw it. Only last time, it was open and inviting me inside. This time, it is locked, sending the message that I am an outsider. What did I expect? Him to rush out and greet me? “Merci.” Out of an abundance of caution, I ask him to wait for me.

“Very good.”

The driver opens his door and, within seconds, mine opens. It is now or never. I accept his hand as I exit the car and grab my purse. Squaring my shoulders, I march over to the intercom, my professional mask firmly in place.

I raise my chin. Wills will let me in. He has to. I press 3G.

“Yes?”

My eyes close, as the sound of his voice enters my ears. All of the butterflies fly out of my body along with my sigh of relief. This will be okay. “Wills, it is me. Let me in, s’il vous plaît.”

Silence.

Then the buzzer sounds and I race through the front door. I press the call button for the elevator but have too much energy to wait for it to come, so I bound up the three flights of stairs. Just like the first time I saw his flat.

I push the door open. Wills stands with his back to the sliding door to the balcony, waiting. He wears gray workout shorts and a Complete t-shirt. His face is blank, showing no emotion at all.

“Wills?”

“Hi.” His voice is flat.

My body tenses and my bottom lip ends up between my teeth. “I texted you at least a dozen times and left you voicemails. Why did you not respond to me?”

“I had a busy evening.”

“How did it go at the police station?”

His jaw tenses. “Why are you here, Emilie?”

Emilie. Not “Ems.” Not “Angel.” I run my hand through my hair. Crossing the room to stand next to him, I start with the truth. “I was worried about you.” I hug him, but his arms remain at his sides.

I step back. “What is wrong? Are you in some sort of trouble? I told the police—”

“I’m fine.” He walks around me, toward the kitchen.

“Wills!” My voice hitches. “Why are you treating me like this? What is wrong? Talk to me.”

Turning, his blue eyes—now a dark, stormy shade—rake me up and down. “Emilie.” He rubs his cheek, his bruised knuckles in relief. “I had a long night, but it’s over now.” He pauses. “It’s all over now.”

Why does it sound as if he is no longer talking about his night, but about us? I shake my head. “I do not understand. Explain it to me.”

“Your life is very different from mine. You don’t live in the real world. You will never understand.”

My breath stops. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that you need to stay with the pretty people who live for the paparazzi. And I, clearly, don’t fit the mold.”

“But, I am not like that. You know me,” I manage to get out, holding the tears at bay. Barely. I rush to him and reach out for his hand.

He crosses his arms across his chest. “Drama follows you in your world. And you thrive on it.”

I wrap a bulletproof vest around my heart, shielding it from the hurtful things he is spewing in my direction. “No, I do not. Wills, what is this about?”

He chuckles, a hollow, mirthless sound. “Listen, this was fun while it lasted. We both got to live in a fantasy for a little while. But you know as well as I do that fantasies don’t last. Or maybe you don’t. Maybe you want to go on pretending that we never have to face reality. I can’t live a lie, though. It’s time to move on.” He points his head toward the door.

My breath stutters. “What?”

“You’re beautiful to look at, I’ll give you that much. But I need someone with a little more, you know, depth. Who looks beyond what a person is wearing.” His cheek jumps.

His words cut straight through me. Anger replaces confusion. My voice raises. “Oh really? Well, maybe I should be with someone who can sleep the whole night through and is man enough to seek professional help—because you need it.” I clamp my hand over my mouth.

“It’s good to know how you really feel. Now it’s time for you to leave.” Wills approaches me, wraps his fingers around my upper arm and marches me toward the front door.

Throwing my head in the air, I exit without looking back at the man who pulverized my heart.

I can never look back.