Come on,” Kumi whines from the bathroom as she curls her hair. “You can’t spend our first New Year’s Eve in the city at home alone.”

“Can, too.” With a box of vegetable lo mein, I sit on the couch watching the Twilight Zone marathon on TV.

“Come with us. You can be my midnight kiss.”

“Tempting, but I think Navid might get jealous.”

There’s no part of getting dressed and party-hopping all over Manhattan that sounds appealing to me. Freezing my ass off and rubbing my toes raw in a pair of ankle-killing heels. I’ve never been much of a social creature, and New Year’s Eve gets old fast when you’re the only sober person in the room.

“Have you heard from him?” Kumi walks into the living room wearing a tight sequined dress that’s sure to bring Navid to his knees.

A knot twists in my chest. The ever-present ache that is the empty place where Ethan isn’t.

“Not since the funeral.”

Almost two months ago. I thought we’d hang out, act like friends, but Ethan’s kept his distance. It’s what I told him to do, I know. All the same, I miss him.

“You’re sure I can’t convince you?” Kumi considers me with sad, sympathetic eyes. “Even just for a few hours?”

“I’m sure.” I’ve been looking forward to having the place to myself for a night. Sit around in my pajamas, eat junk food, and fall asleep by eleven. “Have a good time. Be careful. Call if you need bail money.”

The doorbell rings. Kumi grabs her purse from the kitchen table then blows me a kiss as she and Navid head out. A few minutes later, I get a text from Addison. Rather than another plea to join the festivities, it’s just a link and an order to read it. Tapping on the link sends me to an essay in the New York Times Modern Love section.

By Ethan Ash

I try calling him, but the number I have for Ethan has been disconnected. There’s no answer at his loft, where Vivian’s mural has been painted over with stark white primer. Then as I’m about to dial Carter, the answer occurs to me. There’s only one place Ethan would be.

It’s nearly midnight when the cab pulls up the driveway of the house in Montauk. I find him standing at the edge of the cliff, staring out at the starry sky. Chilling wind lashes at my face as I approach him. He’s illuminated by moonlight and the glow bleeding from the house. At a distance, I watch him for a moment. Statue of a man, frozen against the horizon. It’s how we first met, me staring at his back, catching him in a candid moment. Despite his scars, and also because of them, I still find him no less daunting. He can still shrink a room, the entire coastline, with only his presence. He still has a gravity that bends everything else around him. I look at Ethan, and I see a man who remakes the world just by waking up.

“You could have just called,” I shout.

Slowly, like he’s not sure it wasn’t the wind talking, he turns to see me walking through the tall grass that thins into bare dirt. A cautious smile plays across his lips. But it’s his eyes—still vivid and alive.

“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” he says.

I stand beside him, watching the waves rush up to meet the shore and retreat again.

“Where’ve you been?”

“Here, mostly.”

“Why?”

He runs his hand through his hair as I stare up at his shadowed profile. It seems like ages since we last stood here. Almost impossible to believe it wasn’t yesterday.

“Working on a new book, actually. Decided it was best to take a step away from the news business for a while.” He turns to face me, something anxious behind his eyes and in the set of his jaw. “I’ve thought a lot about what you said, and what I’ve decided is that I can’t meet your expectations.”

“I don’t—”

“Please,” he says. “Let me say this. Loving you has changed me, Avery, and I can’t go back to a place where I’m living only for myself. Every decision I make includes you. Six, seven times a day I still want a drink, but I don’t do it because the only thing more painful than the craving is the idea of disappointing you. You said you want me to stop needing you, and that’s just not possible. I’ve fucking tried, Avery. I really have. It’s exhausting. I’m tired. Aren’t you? No matter how long we’re apart or how far away I get, you don’t wear off.”

I wanted Ethan to do this on his own, find that part of himself that would motivate him to stay sober. But I haven’t done any better at letting go. So many times, I’ve tried to split myself in half and create a new person from the leftovers, pretending it was enough. This time, there aren’t enough threads without him. Loving him is an exchange—he took part of me with him, and gave me a piece in return. The truth is, that part of himself I wanted him to find…he’s decided it’s me.

“This whole time,” I tell him, hugging my chest against the cold, “I’ve been waiting for that day I wake up and I’ve almost forgotten to miss you, but it doesn’t come. No matter how hard I pretend it will.”

I chose him because he’s everything I’ve wanted and something I didn’t know I needed. He makes me whole again. Has given me back the parts of my identity that I’d hidden for so long because he saw something beautiful in them.

“Avery...” He takes my hands in his, stroking his thumbs over the backs. His brow creases, and an odd shift plays across his face. “You’ve given me my life back. I wouldn’t be standing if it weren’t for you. And no matter what you decide, I’ll always be grateful.”

“Ethan…” Shivers skitter down my spine. “You’re, uh, doing it again…”

“Every day I find a new reason to love you. You’re the thought that gets me up in the morning. You’re the dream that helps me sleep at night.”

Staring into his deep, earnest eyes, his face fading into shadow, my fingers fill with static and my knees go a little sideways.

“Ethan, I love you, too. Okay, babe? You don’t need to—”

He drops to one knee. My breath catches in my throat.

“You’ve made me a better man. You’ve had faith in me when I couldn’t find it in myself. For as long as you’ll have me, I promise to never take that faith for granted. Avery…” Ethan reaches into his pocket. Then prying open my clenched fist, he places the shell casing in my palm. “Will you be my girlfriend again?”

The tension in my chest snaps, and I suck in a breath.

“Fuck, Ethan. You scared the shit out of me.”

“Well, that’s an encouraging response.”

“No, fuck you,” I say as he gets to his feet. Smirking, he wraps me in his arms. “You’re unhinged, you know that?”

The strange thing is, I hadn’t even realized that I’d forgotten to miss the shell casing. Somewhere along the way, I stopped needing it. Perhaps because Ethan gave me a reason to look forward rather than back. I’ve found a different kind of strength that isn’t based in fear and regret. He’s replaced the broken pieces of me, fit them back together while I wasn’t even looking. And with his belief in me, I’ve come to know myself not for who I was, but for what I’m becoming. The biggest changes were in the smallest details.

“But you haven’t even seen the fireworks yet.”

Seconds later, huge bursts of color explode over the sky. Whistling, screaming up from the darkness, they scatter and shine.

“I hate you so much right now.”

“I love you, too.”