With Jesse avoiding me at all costs, I throw myself into work. Focusing on my portfolio instead of how much I miss him—and how angry I am that he did this again—does wonders for my business. Marin lined up two presentations after the Buchanan party, and we manage to get both jobs.

Luckily I’m not thrown together with Jesse again. In that way, the fates are kind to me.

I think about him often. And yeah, maybe I hang onto the old t-shirt he left at my apartment when he walked out the door for the last time. There’s a comforting smell associated with it that makes me bury my face in the fabric when I have a hard time sleeping. I’m not proud.

I’d teased Hayley about sleeping in Hunter’s jacket when they were separated, but I get it now. It’s not like the two of us were together for long, but after a year of wanting him, and a week of finally thinking I had him, it’s harder to let go than it should be.

He has two strikes now, and I’m tired of waiting.

So, I work.

I get so involved in my planning that Marin and Hayley have to forcibly remove my Pantone palette from my hands and drag me out to a bar to get me out of the house.

I was annoyed at first, but we’re in a hole-in-the-wall full of cute guys who give us flirty smiles and leave us be. The bartender in particular seems interested in me, but a one-night stand just doesn’t appeal to me right now.

“Give him your number,” Marin says before taking a sip of her beer. She nudges my shoulder. “He’s cute, and you could use a distraction.”

“Got an early morning meeting,” I say as an excuse, because I just don’t want to get into it right now.

“I’m so proud of you,” Hayley says. “Both of you. Things are really taking off lately, huh?”

I’d lucked into an interview with TheBash.com, the foremost party planning site on the web (or so it claims in big bold letters across the header). I guess I can’t really argue considering my feature on small, intimate weddings tripled our website traffic and resulted in seven new appointments on the books.

Marin nods. “Totally. We got a popular girl on our hands here,” she says with pride.

“A popular business,” I correct. “I wouldn’t have gotten that interview if it weren’t for one of your friends.”

Hayley leans in and puts her hand on mine. “Alexa, I love you. Take some credit when people are trying to give it to you.”

The tips of my ears heat, and I nod. “Okay,” I say, mustering all the self-assurance I’ve got. “It’s going really well. Things took off after my interview.”

Hayley smiles. “There’s my girl. I’ll buy you a drink as a reward.”

“Mmmm, free drinks. I should accept praise more often. Thank you for this positive reinforcement.”

Hayley and Marin laugh.

“Anytime,” Hayley says.

Marin sets down her drink. “If things keep going this well, we’ll be able to lease an office space in the next quarter or two.”

“Ah, I’m so excited!” Hayley lets out this high-pitched squeal along with an excited little clap. “I’ve been namedropping you every time I show someone my wedding pictures.”

“Any little bit helps,” Marin says.

I reach the end of my drink and nudge Hayley on the shoulder. “I’m gonna tell the cute bartender to put the next one on your tab.” I stand up and catch sight of Jesse standing at the bar.

He’s with a friend, and my heart just jumps right up into my throat. Stupid thing.

I duck down, making myself as small as possible, hoping he won’t see me. I’m gingerly turning around to go the other way, as if that somehow makes me invisible.

Hayley notices, because of course she does. “What are you doing?”

I lean in and talk as calmly and quietly as I can. “Jesse is over there at the bar.”

They both turn.

“Well, don’t look!”

“Sorry,” Hayley says.

“Want me to go over there and beat his ass?” Marin asks, like she could actually take him. Bless her.

I smile, I can’t help it. “No. I want you to provide some cover for an escape route.”

Hayley makes a disagreeable noise. “You’re not leaving. Don’t you want to go over there and talk to him?”

“And say what?” I ask, annoyed. “Thanks for ditching me a second time, it was so much better than the first. How many times am I supposed to go back for more?”

Being married has made Hayley an incurable romantic. “You aren’t done with each other, I know it. Go over there and talk to him.”

Marin pipes in. “Maybe getting some closure would help?” She’s been around me the most lately, and she knows that my work is cover for my broken heart. I know she only wants to help me, but I don’t want to be helped right now.

“I got my closure when he stopped returning my calls. I got it loud and clear.”

She waves her hands in defeat. “Okay.”

As if the world is out to torture me, Jesse turns and locks eyes with me. He looks shocked for a second, but he doesn’t look away.

“Oh god,” I say, turning back to the girls. “He sees me. Can we please just go anywhere else?”

“He’s looking at you like you hung the moon,” Hayley says with a sigh.

I give her an annoyed look. “This is not the time to get all newlywed romantic,” I tell her.

He turns and says something to his friend, who looks our way. Now that Jesse’s attention is elsewhere for the moment, I’m going to get the hell out of here.

“Get the tab please,” I tell them as I slide my purse off the back of my chair. “I’ll pay you back later.”

I maneuver through a gap between two tables and down the stairwell we walked up to get in here. I practically run to the nearest corner, hoping to get a cab that will take me as far away from this bar as humanly possible.

“Alexa, wait!”

“Please,” Jesse says, jogging over to where I’m standing. “Please give me a chance to explain.”

I’m not feeling too generous right now. “I gave you, oh, ten chances to explain? You know, all those calls of mine you avoided? When you never called me back?”

He at least has the good sense to look embarrassed.

“Please?” he asks almost desperately.

I don’t say anything, but I don’t leave, either.

That’s going to have to be good enough for him right now.

“Thank you,” he says, sounding relieved. “I’m sorry for taking off the way I did, for blowing you off the way I did. It wasn’t fair, and it didn’t have anything to do with you.”

It’s not that I don’t appreciate the apology, it’s just…”You’ve pretty much told me we don’t have a future together twice now, and we’ve only technically been together for a week. I know when to take a hint, Jesse. You really don’t have to explain yourself.”

“I want us to have a future,” he says, taking a step closer to me. “You are my future.”

I let out this bitter laugh that sounds like I’m about to start crying. It’s exactly the thing I want to hear, but I don’t trust him to back up the sentiment with his actions. I expect the opposite, actually.

“You have a really strange way of showing it,” I say.

“After that night,” he begins, “all I could see was me holding you with someone else’s blood on my hands. It felt…abhorrent. I held onto that image and I convinced myself that because of what I do, I’m not good for you. But the truth is…it’s an excuse.”

My curiosity piqued, I ask, “An excuse for what?”

“I’m scared. I don’t have a history of long relationships. They’ve always made me want to run, so that’s what I did.”

If that’s supposed to make me feel better, it doesn’t. “Clearly I did, too.”

“No,” he says softly, stepping closer. He’s so close, he could lean down a couple of inches and kiss me if he wanted to. Even after everything, I want him to. “You’re the first one who’s ever made me want to stay. And I know I fucked it up.”

“Yeah, twice now,” I say, taking a step back. “I never asked you for forever, I never asked you for anything more than to spend time with me. All I wanted was for you to try, to stick around and see what this is.”

“I want to do that,” he implores. “I’ve wanted that for over a year, since I let you walk away the first time. I kicked myself for a year after, and then I made the same goddamn mistake. You didn’t ask me for forever, but I want to give it to you. That’s what I think we could be, and I think that’s worth being scared over.”

He really believes what he’s telling me, that much is clear. I want to believe him, too, so I’m left with a choice. Close up shop and not give him a shot at a third strike. Or I could guard my heart but let him prove that he’s worth it.

My head tells me one thing, but…my heart.

“If you’re serious, you have to stop running.”

He lets out a long sigh of relief. “I can do that.”

I take a deep breath, and leap. “Okay. Prove it.”