“Denver, call me when you get this message,” I say, hanging up and watching Gage shake his head in disapproval. “What?”

As I move over to my makeup table, I can see him approach me in the mirror. He sighs dramatically, putting both hands on my shoulders. Our eyes meet.

“That’s the umpteenth time you’ve called him, and he has yet to answer. He’s a sucky boyfriend, Eden.”

“He will.” I watch Gage roll his eyes as I sit in front of the mirror, his reflection behind me. Eventually he sits down and shares the bench with me.

“Fat chance,” he snorts as he reaches to pick up my lipstick, opening it and turning it till the entire color is exposed.

“What are you planning to do with that? I didn’t think pink was your color.” I smile at my so-called best friend.

“Oh, hell no, sweetheart. It’s not my color, just questioning your relationship choices here. Carry on.” He watches as I finish getting ready for work. Our eyes meet again, and I feel the lecture coming.

“Listen, I don’t like this new job, Eden. It’s not safe.”

The battle over my plan begins. Again.

“I have my reasons, Gage.”

It felt liberating to finally tell someone about my strategy. It wasn’t a surprise that he thought I was making the wrong decision. I understand his concern, and I agree it’s crazy. Gage has always been there, watching over me. We were practically inseparable all the way through high school and college. His not-so-subtle dislike of any guy eye-fucking me causes him to flake out. Then there’s his intense dislike of Denver—or the dreamy asshole, as Gage likes to call him. This is just one example of his over-the-top need to protect me.

“Go ahead, drink the purple Kool-Aid. Just remember that I’ll be the one forced to stick my finger down your throat.”

“Coming from the guy who thinks puking is an art form.” He can’t hide the curve of a smile, even if it’s laced with apprehension.

“Can we do this another time?” I ask. “I heard from my dad’s lawyer today.”

“Fuck, are you nervous?”

Yes.

“No.” But my gut is constantly twisting and turning.

“Liar. Would you just stop, Eden? It’s normal to feel nervous and sad. It’s healthy to let yourself feel the sorrow.”

Draping his arm over my shoulder, I notice his usual calm demeanor is slightly rattled. I gaze into his eyes. They’re filled with distress, his beautiful face sad, because of me. How can I explain how I’m feeling when I don’t know myself?

“I scheduled a session with that doctor.” I rest my one hand on his.

“The handsome suit from the funeral?” His brows reach his hairline.

“Oh, you noticed, huh?” I give him a cocky smile.

“Hard not to, Eden. Sex just oozed off of him. Pure male. Think he’s straight?” Gage leans over, resting his chin on my shoulder as our eyes meet in the mirror.

“How should I know?” I ask, but I did know. I can’t forget how he affected me with just one look. It’s as if he sorted through all the muck and grief, and somehow saw deep into my soul. My feelings were raw and exposed, but I wanted more. As crazy as that sounds, I want to be healed—but only by him.

“He’s old enough to be our father.”

“Hardly. My father was years older, but it doesn’t matter, anyway. He’s my therapist.”

“You’re right, whatever.” Gage schusses me over, forcing me to share more of my bench.

I watch in the mirror as he takes the hair band that sits low on his neck out, exposing his shoulder-length, sun-kissed hair. He runs his fingers through it and replaces it. The guy is cocky, but then again, he has every right to be.

“I have to go to work now. The goal is a paycheck, unlike your high-dollar trust fund.”

He laughs and turns to face me.

“You do realize that you’re now a trust fund baby, too, Eden.”

“Not yet.” I’ll find out tomorrow, when the will is read. I’ve never had to worry about money, but then again, having access to my parent’s lifetime of investments is extremely daunting—and depressing.

“Do you want me to go with you to the lawyer’s office?” His support is endless.

“As comforting as that sounds, I think it’s best to go on my own.” I watch as he picks up my phone, looking for any indication that Denver has responded.

“He’s probably getting an anal bleaching.”

I hold my side with laughter.

“You should know,” I spit out.

He kisses the top of my head. “I’m here when you need me, little dove.” And then he leaves.

I don’t climb into bed until two am. Work and the progress I made after my shift kept me there longer than expected. Still, the dragging guilt tugs at my soul each time I leave that place. It’s a necessary evil I’ve accepted in order to find the truth, but I put that aside to focus on the day to come, swallowing yet another set of emotions I wish to ignore. I shower quickly and let my curls do their own thing, hair tie around my wrist as a backup. I dress professionally and I’m out the door in record time.

“Eden Barnett,” I say to the receptionist, while turning my phone off at the same time.

“Take a seat, Miss Barnett. He will be right with you.”

But before I can get comfortable, the door opens, and a man appears. He has gray hair, kind eyes, and what appears to be a very expensive suit.

“Miss Barnett,” he says, gesturing for me to enter. “Come in.”

“Mr. Conrad.” I shake his hand, and his grip is reassuringly secure. He waves his hand to the seat opposite his desk. I watch as he takes his seat, and once our eyes meet, I see the look I see from everyone: sympathy, pity, and sadness. All the things I’ve been attempting to bury deep inside.

“Miss Barnet,” he says again as he opens the files. His focus changes from me to the paperwork. “There is a trust set up for you, since you’re the sole beneficiary.”

I let myself feel it only briefly. They’re gone. My parents are both really gone.

“In which case, they’ve left everything to you.” He pauses, silently questioning whether I’ve comprehended the magnitude of his last statement.

“Eden, are you with me?” He takes off his glasses and rests his elbows on his desk, focusing on my reaction, or lack thereof.

“I’m fine.”

Bottom line is what I had already anticipated, that they would protect me and my future.

“It’s in the millions.” He says it as if testing whether I truly understand. But no amount of money will fill the hole in my chest.

“I understand, Mr. Conrad.” But the point is I don’t care. Money won’t bring them back or find the answers I’ve waited a lifetime to know.

to assist you in performing your duties properly. is no longer valid, I would like to stay on to assist you in any manner you wish.”

“Of course, Mr. Conrad. I do have one question, though. Is there any mention of my Uncle Vince?”

“No, Eden. He was not mentioned.”

“Don’t you find that odd?”

“Not really. It was your parents’ choice. It’s very common to leave the bulk of an estate to the children. Siblings may not outlive one another; children are the wisest choice.”

I can’t help but wonder how Uncle Vince will feel about being excluded, though. He’s the only family I have left.

I sign all the documents and find no comfort in the fact that I’ll never have to worry about money again. I’ll finish school soon, then decide whether to give up my apartment and move into their house—the home where I grew up—or sell it. That’s not a decision I have to make today, however. I thank Mr. Conrad and confirm we will meet again in the near future. I make my way home conflicted, never filling the empty spaces.

“That’s rich coming from you, Denver.”

The bastard, I scream inside my head as my hands rest on my hips, the universal code for any woman pissed off.

“What I meant was it didn’t mean anything.” He attempts to reach for me, but I instinctually jerk away.

“It always means something. Whether it does to you is of little consequence. It means something to me.” My stomach is doing summersaults. It’s not the break-up that has me in knots, it’s the betrayal.

“Eden, I’m sorry. You’ve been…” He pauses, searching for the word that won’t make it worse, as if that’s even possible.

“Absent.”

“I don’t want to hear it, Denver. My parents died. They fucking died! No, you weren’t my first priority. How can you blame me? Don’t dump your selfish behavior at my doorstep. That’s all on you.”

I start to pace as his eyes follow me, but if I am being completely honest with myself, letting go of Denver doesn’t hurt like I thought it would. Relief trumps all my other emotions.

“Just go.” His ego is taking a hit more than his heart as his eyes meet mine in utter surprise. “Go Denver, just leave.” My voice is louder, followed by a wide sweep of my arm, gesturing toward the door. Finally, I see him turn to leave. His slumped shoulders show his defeat. The sad part is knowing that his feelings were never real or genuine.

As his hand reaches for the door handle, he looks over his shoulder. “Please understand that I care for you deeply, even if my actions don’t show it. I’m sorry, Eden.”

I watch him walk out the door, and out of my life. I’m surprisingly not that affected by the loss—well, not as much as I thought I would be. Cheating is a deal breaker for me, I thought it was for everyone.

“Little dove.” Gage answers on the first ring, using his pet name for me. I fought him for years with no luck, finally I realized it was sticking. Okay it’s kind of cute, but certainly not an accurate portrayal of who I really am.

“I just broke it off with Denver.” I realize I’ve spoken these words on numerous occasions. What does that say about me?

“Are you for real? Because I’ve heard this before, and I don’t want to get my hopes up that you’ve come to your senses, Eden.”

“It’s over this time. I mean it.” I’m trying to wrap my head around the image of being alone, really alone. Would I give into the urge to take him back purely to avoid the agony of living day by day without anyone to share my life with?

I’m in uncharted waters now. Am I strong enough? I want to believe I am.

“Fucking finally, Eden. He’s a snake charmer with no trouble attracting female companionship. He’s also a liar and a cheat. And you cave quicker than a knife fight in a phone booth.”

“I’m well aware of my track record, Gage.” The truth stings.

“Maybe we should go celebrate. Our place? And no phones. The last thing I want is that dreamy asshole blowing up your phone all night, got it?”

“Sheesh, got it.”

“Okay, little dove. Meet me at seven. Bye.”