Well, that went poorly, is all I can think as I wait on the sidewalk for my Uber. Then again, what did I really think was going to happen? If anything, it could have gone worse. He could have flipped the table. He could have thrown his drink in my face. He could have left me stranded to find my own way home.

In all of the years I’ve known Alden, I’ve never seen him that upset. I know I’m devastated over what just happened, but it’s nothing compared to how he must be feeling.

Finally, a black coupe with the company logo on the door pulls to the curb. I waste no time getting in, and the driver wastes no time pulling back into traffic. I’m guessing he can tell from my puffy, raccoon eyes that I’m in no mood to talk.

When he idles the car in front of my building, I move to get out, but he stops me. “Hey, no one hurt you, right?”

I offer him a sad smile. “No, this is of my own doing.”

He nods, and I close the door, hastily retreating to the safety of my apartment. It’s just like Alden to be mad at me and to still be concerned for my safety. What other guy would make sure a girl got home okay after dropping the kind of bomb I did? I certainly can’t think of a single one.

Then again, I guess that kind of stuff is the reason I’ve always crushed on him. He’s been the ideal I’ve measured every other relationship against, and every single man has fallen short. Jesus, if I weren’t all out of tears, I’d cry at how pathetic I sound.

I march straight back to my bathroom, where I strip out of my clothes and start the shower. I may not be able to wash off the sins of my past, but I can at least take care of my ruined makeup.

I stand under the spray of the scalding water until it runs icy and cold—much like Alden’s feelings toward me. The crushed look on his face plays on a loop behind my closed eyelids. I can’t recall a time that I’ve ever seen him so upset. Not even with his grandparents passed away. And knowing I’m the cause kills me.

Dried off and dressed for bed, I grab my phone, hoping and begging for a missed call or a text from him. But there’s nothing.

No shit there’s nothing, my brain shouts at me.

But my heart’s not having that, so without thinking too much about him, I dial his number. The line rings and rings until voicemail picks up. “Al-Alden…it’s me, Nat. Call me?”

Foolishly, I sit and wait, hoping he’ll call. I try and distract myself with some Netflix. When that doesn’t work, I pick up my Kindle and dive into my latest read—Breakaway by Heather M. Orgeron—but even still, my heart hurts. I toss my reader into my bedside drawer and decide to check out social media. But when I open Facebook, the first post I see is a check-in from Alden at Bennet’s Bar. Well, shit.

Now I’m even more worried. Logically, I get that he’s mad at me, and hell, maybe I’m even a little mad at him. I mean, it’s not like he really gave me the chance to explain much of anything…or did I just not try hard enough? Either way, the thought of something bad happening to him has me nauseated.

I do the only thing I can think of—call my big brother.

“Sup, Nat?”

“I…I need a no-questions-asked favor.”

“Whoa. Why—okay, what’s up?”

“I need you to go to Bennet’s and check on Alden.”

Nate’s heavy breath comes through the speaker. “I know you said no questions, but Nat, what—”

“Please? Please just do this for me? I’ll owe you! Anything you want!”

He leaves me hanging, but only for a minute. “Fine. But when it’s time for me to cash in, remember this shit.”

“I will,” I whisper into the phone before ending the call.