I knew it was a mistake to come into work today.

I knew that my stomach was feeling sick this morning because it was its way of telling me that leaving my bed was a bad idea.

A very bad idea.

I didn’t want to see Will.

Even though I so badly wanted to see Will.

But I wasn’t ready. I hadn’t decided anything.

I spent the whole weekend trying to make peace with my feelings, trying to figure it out and I kept coming up empty handed.

I want to be with Will.

I don’t want to lose everything else in my life, including my relationship with my parents, in order to have him.

Or do I?

The dinner on Friday showed just how fragile that relationship is, and how far we have to go before we’re a fully functioning family again. Right now it’s dysfunctional, and not even in the way that works for most families. Right now we’re a bunch of strangers who are slowly coming to know and like each other—most of the time. Even my father, who can be a cold, superficial dick sometimes is still my father, still someone I need and want a better relationship with.

I don’t want to throw that away and put me back to square one.

And I don’t want that to happen to Will.

I know it’s not my place at all to decide what is best for him, and frankly it pisses me off to no end when people do that for me. So I’m not going to end things with him because I think he’ll be better off, even if it’s true.

But it still matters. My father would probably think I’m being a hot mess again, the crazy wild-child still making bad mistakes. But when it comes to Will, he’s going to think a lot worse. A forty-one year old man with his twenty-five year old daughter? He’s going to think our relationship is based on sex when . . .

Well, maybe at first it was based on sex, from my point of view anyway, but that was never the case with Will.

Regardless, it won’t go over well. And as much as it burns up my heart to think, to know, that Will would choose me over everything else, I don’t want him to make that choice.

I’m just not worth it, not in the long run.

He wants me and Ty because we set off the protector and provider in him. His caveman instincts. Ty is the child he could never have, I’m the wife that he thinks he wants.

He knows this, deep down. He just doesn’t know it yet.

And when he does, when he realizes it, it’s going to blow up in his face and he’s going find out he sacrificed everything for a relationship that never really existed.

Those were my thoughts this morning.

Then the guilt sets in.

Then my mother sets in.

She pulls me aside around ten a.m., just before she was going to head out to her horseback lesson.

“You’re looking a bit better,” she says, eying me closely. “Maybe it’s a case of nerves.”

I nod. “I guess it’s tricky when you have to work with your father.”

“I don’t mean your father, I mean Will.”

I try to shrug and open the fridge, looking for something to distract me. One of Ty’s apple juice boxes should do. “I’m sure Will doesn’t care about a family spat.”

“He doesn’t,” she says. “But he does care about you.”

I give her a quick smile and stab the straw into the top of the juice box. It’s mildly cathartic. “That’s because he’s a good boss.”

“Jackie,” she says. “I had a good talk with Will on Friday night, before he left. You were off with Ty.”

This isn’t good.

“Oh?”

I suck back on the juice box until the sides cave in.

“He didn’t go into any specifics but . . . look, honey. You deserve the best in life, you really do. You’ve gone through so much and it hurts my heart to know you had to go through it all without us. I realize that our relationship hasn’t been that easy since you’ve come home, and I know that you’ve probably felt alone and Will has been the only person to lean on. It’s only natural what happened.”

I glance at her sharply as I throw the juice box in recycling. “What happened?”

“I know you’re together. That you’re an item. Will confirmed it.”

My nostrils flare. “He did what?!”

“To be fair, I brought it up,” she says quickly. “I made him tell me. Because I know, Jackie. It’s obvious.”

I clamp my mouth shut, scared to death, angry as hell that Will told her.

She goes on. “The dresses, the shoes, the necklace, the late nights. I’m not an idiot. And you can’t ignore the way he looks at you. Jackie that man is in love with you.”

I nod. “I know,” I whisper softly.

She tilts her head, examining me. “Are you in love with him?”

I try and swallow. I can’t. “It doesn’t matter,” I say, my words barely audible.

“What do you mean it doesn’t matter? I’m pretty sure it matters to Will.”

“No,” I tell her sharply. “It can’t matter to him. It won’t. I don’t . . .”

I really don’t want to have this conversation with my mom. I don’t want to have it with anyone.

“Jackie, do you love him or not? It’s a simple question.”

I shake my head, tears threatening my eyes. “It’s not simple at all. It’s the hardest question of all.” The tears spill over my cheeks. “I don’t want to, don’t you understand? I don’t want to love him, not even a bit. God, this is so hard.”

“Honey,” she whispers, pulling me into a hug. “It doesn’t have to be hard. That’s all up to you.”

“But I don’t think I’m ready to just . . . give myself to him. How can I when we’re always two seconds from falling apart?” I sniffle onto her shoulder, my eyes closing. I forgot how good it feels to have a hug from your mother.

“If it falls apart, you just put it back together,” she says, rubbing my back. “That’s what happens when you love someone, when you’re in it for the long haul. Things will fall apart. They will get rough. But as long as you have someone who doesn’t disappear when love gets tough, it doesn’t matter.”

“But there’s just too much against us. Dad . . . the company . . . god, does Dad already know?”

“No, sweetie. He doesn’t. But don’t let that stop you.” She pulls back, holding my shoulders. “He’ll always be your dad, no matter what you do.” She gives me a small smile. “And we both know you’ve done a lot.”

“And Will?”

She exhales loudly. “Will is more complicated. But he knows what he’s up against. He knew what he was getting into with you.”

“Is Dad going to kill him?”

“Maybe.”

“Mom.”

“Your father is touchy, and the two of them aren’t as close as they once were. So I don’t know. But I do know that it’s up to Will to make that choice, not you.”

I close my eyes. My heart feels like it’s being drained out of me.

“But you have a choice too,” she adds. “And in the end, it’s the one choice we all have to make. You can choose fear. Or you can choose love.”

“I chose love once,” I tell her, my words choked. “I thought I loved Jeff and I chose him and look what that did to me.”

“I know. I know, sweetie. But the same choice will keep coming up in life, if you’re lucky. And every time you’re going to have to pick one or the other. You can choose fear over love, but then you won’t have Will. I know that’s not what you want.”

I look away, take a step back. “I guess I should go to work.”

“Are you sure?” she asks. “If you’re only going because I’m asking the tough questions, then don’t think you’ll be able to avoid them when you’re looking at Will. That man is madly in love with you, Jackie. But he’s also not someone to be toyed with. He won’t wait forever.”

“I’m not toying with him,” I say indignantly. “I would never do that to him.”

“Whether you mean to or not, he deserves to have all of you. And if you think you’re going to end up choosing fear over love in the end, then he deserves to know as soon as possible.”

“And what if I don’t know?” I ask, picking up the dishtowel and wiping away the rest of my tears. “What if I’ll never know how I feel?”

“Jackie. You know already. If you didn’t love him, this wouldn’t be a choice at all.” She glances at the clock on the wall. “I’m already late for the lesson. Get dressed, take the SUV and get yourself to work. He’s still your boss,” she adds.

How could I forget?

So I get ready, forgo makeup, and drive my ass down to the office, even though I nearly vomit into a leftover Starbucks cup when my nerves start getting the best of me. All the fucking yoga bullshit breathing exercises in the world aren’t helping.

Luckily when I get inside the building, the first thing Tiffany says to me is: “Will went out for lunch.” Followed by: “Are you feeling better? You look a bit pale.”

“Yes,” I tell her, giving her a small smile as I walk past. “I’m fine.”

“Hey, you made it,” Alyssa says to me as I pass her office. “You could have just taken the whole day off you know.”

I shrug and keep walking, my heart rate returning to normal knowing I don’t have to face Will yet. Once I sit down at my desk and start putting things in their place—I swear the weekend cleaners like to rearrange my desk for fun—I’ve convinced myself that I might not even talk to him today at all. Maybe I can stretch it out the whole week. All work, nothing else.

I go through my emails and my pulse skyrockets when I see one from Will this morning, but he’s just asking where I am and if I’m coming in. Nothing more, nothing less.

And yet his concern makes me happy. Happy, deep, deep, deep in my heart. I can feel his worry through those few typed words, I can see the expression on his face—his lips pressed together, his furrowed brow, lined forehead—as he writes them out. That’s how tied this man is to me. Even a sentence-long email brings my heart this golden kind of joy, like the sun rising on a cold, dark morning.

How could I go on without him? How could I call it off and continue working here, knowing what he does to me?

How could I work anywhere, existing in a world without Will?

Why would I want to?

And while I’m pondering those questions, I feel the mood shift in the office. I feel it shift like a cloud covering the sun.

I hear people walking toward me, the shuffle of dress pants, the creak of leather shoes, and my father’s voice.

And then I stand up.

See Will.

Beautiful, gorgeous Will in a grey suit, skinny black tie.

Standing beside a beautiful, gorgeous Kim Novak-type woman.

That my father promptly introduces as Mona.

As if he wanted me and only me to see her.

I couldn’t feel more awkward, more on the spot, more disappointed and crushed. Not necessarily in Will. I know he probably didn’t go out for lunch with this woman on purpose, the same woman my father blatantly said he’s setting him up with, or at least trying to.

But even so, it’s a reminder of how fucked up things are. This woman represents the person that I should be in order for everything to work the way it should.

If I was Mona, there would be no issues.

But I’m not Mona, I’m not even close.

She’s a nice woman and all, but as I give her a quick, half-hearted tour of the office, all I can think of is how different this woman is to me. This is who my father thinks Will should be with. Over time, will this be who Will thinks he should be with?

I’m making this more complicated for myself.

I know this.

But I can’t help myself. I’m a slow-motion car crash.

When I’m done and Mona leaves, going off to talk to my father about something, I head back to my desk.

“Mr. McAlister wants to see you,” Patty says to me.

“Okay,” I tell her, my knees wanting to buckle. I lean against the partition for a moment.

She reaches over and puts her hand over mine, looking me dead in the eye. “Go easy on him. He means well.”

Then she takes her hand away and goes back to work, like nothing happened.

Hmmm. Maybe Patty is more astute than I thought.

I take in a deep breath, as deep as it will go, and turn around and knock on Will’s door.

“Come in,” he says.

Here it goes.

I open the door and step inside.

He’s sitting at his desk, a paperback copy of Meditations in an Emergency beside him.

But he’s not staring at the book. He’s staring right at me. He expected me.

I close the door behind me.

“Lock it,” he tells me.

“Will,” I say, shaking my head no.

Fuck. What am I doing already?

I watch as he swallows. He nods. “Okay. Look. I didn’t know I was having lunch with her. Your father never told me. When I got to the restaurant—”

I raise my hand to stop him. “It’s fine. Honestly.”

“How could it be fine?” he asks, frowning.

“Because I know you. And I know you would never do that to me.”

“Oh,” he says. “Well, good. Then . . . how come you look like you’re going to give me some really bad news?”

I rub my lips together, trying to gather strength, trying to keep it all together.

“Because I do have bad news.”

His face falls, his shoulders stiffen. “What?” he asks.

I blurt it out like it’s one long word, “I don’t think we should see each other anymore.”

He stares at me. Right at me. Right through me.

And I can see through him.

See the pain building behind his eyes.

The pain I’m causing.

“Jackie,” he says slowly.

“It’s not about Mona,” I tell him. “It’s not about anything other than me. I’m just . . .” I quickly rub my fingers between my brows, as if that’s going to bring clarity. “I can’t do it. I just can’t do it. I’m sorry.”

He eases out of his chair. “Can’t do what?”

“This. Us.”

He walks over to me, so slowly. For some reason right now he seems taller and bigger than ever before. “What about this and us?”

Why does he keep asking questions?

“It’s too hard!” I cry out. “All of this is.”

He stops, brow furrowing in tight confusion. “Which part? I’m sorry, you’re going to have to spell it out to me because I’m not a damn mind reader. I’m not letting you come in here and say this fucking bullshit to me without an explanation. Got it?”

And boss-man Will comes out. Bad fucking timing.

“I tried to tell you at the hotel.”

“You tried to tell me? When? When I told you I loved you and you didn’t say anything? You just acted like it was some nice gesture on my behalf, like it was what I was supposed to say? No. Fuck that. I didn’t have to say shit. I said it because it’s true. I love you, Jackie.”

His words don’t lose their effect. I feel them in every part of me, like an IV drip, slowly working its way through my veins, making me scared and numb and alive all at once.

He goes on. “I also told you that I would keep fighting for you, for us, until you told me not to.”

“Maybe I’m telling you not to,” I say quietly.

Fuck, I don’t even think I mean it.

“You could have told me then instead of leading me on. Instead of pulling away.”

“I wasn’t leading you on. I didn’t know.”

“And you know for sure now?!”

“Don’t yell at me,” I warn him.

“Maybe you need to be yelled at!” he fires back at me. “Maybe it’s the only way to knock some sense into your head. To get how fucking serious this is. This isn’t us fucking around anymore. It’s not a damn game. You just don’t get to quit when you feel like it. This is my heart here. Okay? My heart and yours.”

“Why are you getting so angry?”

“Why am I getting so angry?” he roars and I feel his fury all the way to my toes. My god, there’s no way everyone in the office isn’t hearing this right now. “I’m angry because after all the shit that could be thrown our way, you’re giving up now. Now, just when it’s getting really fucking good.”

“Will, I can’t be with you!” I yell back.

“Why the fuck not?”

“Because it’s too hard! Can’t you see that? This, us, the job, my father, your business, everything. It’s too much, it’s not going to stand, it’s not going to be worth it.”

“Says who?” he practically growls. “Says who? You or me? Because I can decide what’s worth it to me. You need to decide what’s worth it to you.”

He grabs the ends of his hair, tugs at it, his face growing red. “Fuck, Jackie. If you don’t love me, then you have to tell me that. Right now. Let’s hear it. Tell me you don’t love me and if that’s the case I’ll stop yelling and leave you the fuck alone.”

He’s angry. He’s so angry.

I’ve never seen him like this.

It scares me. Not in the way you’d think, not like Jeff scared me.

It scares me because I think I’m finally realizing how much he fucking cares. The damage I’m doing because I’m too afraid and damaged myself.

“Will . . .”

“Tell me,” he says, voice shaking. “Please.”

I don’t know what to say.

He runs his hands over his face, shaking his head. “Damn it, kid, you’re breaking my heart.”

I am.

And I’m breaking mine.

I’ve got both of our hearts in my hands and I don’t know what to do with them except shred them up into smaller pieces. It seems easier somehow, to do this, instead of letting them grow. The bigger our hearts get, the harder they are to control.

I close my eyes, trying to breathe. The room seems to spin.

And then Will is at my side, holding me up by my arms. He smells like cedar and fresh air and everything I want my life to be.

“Jackie,” he says, lowering his voice, though I can still hear the tremor in it. “Jackie. I know you’re scared. I know you don’t need me. I know that you don’t trust what’s in your heart because it’s let you down before. But you’re . . .” he exhales, leaning in closer to me, “you’re the only one who fills me. My heart. Makes me whole. And I get that you want to throw it all away for a million reasons, but I only need you to stay for one: because you love me.”

He reaches up, brushing my hair behind my ear, cupping my face. I open my eyes to see him staring at me with so much hope that everything I thought I knew, every resolve I had inside to choose fear over love . . . it crumbles to dust.

And we stand among the ruins.

I close my eyes and let myself feel it.

Really fucking feel it.

Him.

His heart.

Us.

This thing that’s bigger than anything.

Too big for my own heart to understand.

Until now.

I open my eyes, a tear spilling down my cheek. He’s searching me like he’s always searched, always looking past my darkest, blackest spots, searching for the me deep inside that knows she deserves love.

“Dream girl,” he whispers. “Tell me I have your heart. I won’t let it go, not for any moment, not for any reason. Tell me I have your heart and I’ll keep it next to my own.”

Damn it, Will.

The floodgates open.

The tears fall.

My heart twists and swells with the truth, growing bigger than my body can contain.

“I love you,” I whisper to him.

And the moment those words leave my lips, the world shifts back into place. The darkness and the fear inside are banished. The war against myself has been fought and been won.

Love won.

As it always should.

I chose right.

Will stares at me, tentative waves of hope coming across his brow. “You do?”

Now that I know the emotion, now that I’ve named it, owned it, it comes clawing up my throat like an untamed animal fighting to get out.

I grab the back of his neck, his shirt, holding on tight. “I love you, Will. I love you, I love you. I’m so in love with you.”

He looks like he’s melting before my eyes.

Then he’s kissing me, hard, grasping my face in desperation, pushing me back against the door.

“Am I dreaming?” he whispers against my lips. “If I am, don’t wake me up. Please don’t wake me up.”

“You’re not,” I manage to say, smiling against his mouth. I’m almost laughing with joy.

The happiness comes in waves. Big ones, a set of swells, one by one knocking me off my feet, crashing over everything I’ve ever known. It’s like I’m starting over, all my truth has been replaced by one and that’s that I love Will.

“So what does this mean?” he asks me, pulling back, his nose brushing against mine. “Are you still done with me?”

His words are a kick to the gut. “I would have never been done with you, Will. You said I’m easy to love. So are you.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Yes,” I smile softly, running my fingers down his beautiful face. “Yes, you’re easy to love, once you admit what love is. Something that’s bigger than both of us. Something you can’t control. Something you can only let loose and let fly free.”

“That sounds about right.” He places his hand at my heart. “As long as it always comes back.” He smiles, looking so at peace, more than I’d ever seen him

And so I hate to bring this up . . .

“What are we going to do now?” I ask him. “Beyond this moment? Beyond this office?”

“You know I don’t want to hide this anymore. If you’re all in, then everyone is going to know about it.”

“But my father . . .”

“Screw Ted,” he says. “I’m sorry, but after that stunt he pulled today, sometimes I think your father is more of a child than you ever were. He’s growing old and just projecting his shit on you.”

“So what are we going to do?”

“I’ll tell you what we’re going to,” he says. He straightens up and grabs my hand, pulling open the door.