Chloe sits on my sofa, drinking a soda, while I work on my latest sculpture in the middle of the living room. “I thought you’d have something more to tell me,” she says.

I turn to her and shrug. “I told you nothing had happened. I haven’t heard from him.”

“Nothing at all? Not even a voicemail, or an email? Anything?”

“Nothing.”

“And Vincent?”

I scoff and roll my eyes. “Not a word. Not that I’d give him the time of day anyway, after the shit he pulled.”

Chloe lies back on the sofa and shakes her head. “I can’t believe the pair of them. Idiots.”

I pick up a thin modeling tool and sculpt the detail in a long whorl of hair in my latest bust sculpture.

“You know, I’m feeling better about it.”

“You are?”

“Yeah. I mean, what Vincent did was despicable. He used me to blackmail Ethan. And Ethan should have known better than to start playing games with him. But a billion-dollar contract is a big deal. He gave that up to save this crummy place—for me. I know he should have done things differently instead of being so underhanded and sneaky with everything, but I guess I can believe that in Ethan’s own weird way, he thought he was doing the right thing.”

Chloe offers a knowing smile. “You’d forgive that man for anything.”

“He tried to tell me Vincent was going to use me, and I didn’t listen. I mean, if Ethan had told me that Vincent had bought out my building and was going to evict me, I probably would have rolled my eyes and told him to stick it. For everything that Ethan’s done wrong, I’ve got to admit he tried to keep me out of it before any of it started.”

I pause and run my finger over a smudged line of clay to smooth it. I tilt my head to one side and look back at Chloe. “You know, I never stopped and thought about how much effort he went to trying to warn me about Vincent. He dropped everything in New York to come and tell me I was walking into trouble.”

“He was probably looking out for number one, Lily. He didn’t know what Vincent was going to do, and he wanted to stop it before it began.”

“But Vincent’s plan could only have worked if Ethan cared about me. Ethan didn’t have to come to Payson to tell me about Vincent, but he did—because he cared. He didn’t have to give up the contract. He could have let me be evicted and still have funds to put me up somewhere else. But he didn’t because he knows how much this place means to me. I thought everything he did was for himself, but, I think maybe, he did do it all for me.”

Chloe’s expression softens, and she lets out a long breath. “What have you gotten yourself into?”

“I know.”

“You still have feelings for him, then?”

“I couldn’t forget about Ethan Steele if I tried. I’ve always loved him.”

She sits up and fixes me with an earnest stare. “So? Why don’t you go get him?”

“What?” I chuckle and shake my head. “No. The time has passed.”

Chloe rolls her eyes. “You’re too keen to let destiny do everything for you. Sometimes you have to take matters into your own hands. You’ve done nothing but obsess over Ethan since the day I met you, even though you’ve tried to hide it from me. Maybe you should do something about it.”

I smile. “I thought you didn’t like him.”

“I didn’t like how unhappy you were when you were holing yourself up, waiting for him to magically return. But if you’ve got a chance to be with him, and he makes you happy, then I’m behind you, Lily.”

“It’s all so messy now. Even if I do decide to forgive him, and want to give it a go, where do I even start with that?”

“Easy. Call him or send him an email. Go to New York if you have to.”

“I’m going to give it some time to figure out what I want. Ethan has been my everything for so long. Maybe I need this time alone.”

“It’s up to you.”

I turn back to my sculpture, working on another whorl. The face is coming to life.

Chloe looks over my shoulder. “Wow. You’re talented, Lily. Too talented for this place. Maybe New York is where you should be.”

There’s a knock at the door. I frown. “I haven’t ordered anything.”

“Maybe they’re checking the alarms or something.”

“Well, it better not be the people downstairs. I’m not even using the turntable.”

I stand up and go to the door. I open it and scan the corridor, left and right. There is nobody there. Only a package. Tall, thin, and wrapped in brown paper.

“Hey Chloe, come here!”

Chloe appears at my side and follows my gaze. “What’s that?”

“I don’t know. Will you help me bring it in?”

We each take a side of the delivery and carry it across the threshold. It’s light but large and rectangular. Although it’s wrapped in paper, I recognize the feel of the contents at once: canvas.

“Who’s it from?” Chloe asks.

I scan the package to find a sender. All I see is a little note taped to one side. “Love, Ethan” reads the simple message.

“It’s from Ethan.”

My heart is in my mouth. It’s been a month since I’ve heard from him, and now this. I wonder what he’s sent me. I think of Vincent and all the art that he flew to Arizona. Is Ethan doing the same thing? Flashing his money to make me swoon?

“Open it!” Chloe urges me. “Let’s see what it is.”

I tear the paper from the tape and gently pull it back. As the image underneath emerges, tears spring to my eyes, and a happy, nostalgic joy sweeps over me. My stomach fills with butterflies.

When the paper is all ripped away, Chloe helps me turn the canvas to its upright position and lean it against the wall. “Oh, Lily. That’s beautiful. Who do you think painted it?”

I know the answer. I’m laughing from happiness as I reply, “He did.”

My eyes take in every inch of the portrait. It’s a young girl in a floating white dress, standing by a window, one hand resting on the sill. She looks outside, the wind lifting her blonde hair a little, her face lit up by the sun streaming in. She has a smile on her face, and her painted eyes are sparkling with dreams.

I cover my mouth with my hands. “It’s Ethan’s portrait.”

“What portrait?”

I laugh as I answer. I’m crying, but they’re happy tears. “Ethan tried to paint this picture a hundred times. He said he could never get it right. Look at what he’s been doing.”

I trace my finger over the oils, rough beneath my fingertips. The portrait is painted in muted, pastel colors with heavy, urgent brushstrokes—except for the brightness of the smile, caught in the light.

“He said this is how he would always remember me.”

Chloe stares at the picture and smiles. “It’s you, Lily. It’s so you.”

“Do you think he’s still here?”

I dash through the apartment door, look up and down the corridor again, and race down to the lobby. When I don’t find Ethan there, I stand out on the street, scanning the road up and down, trying to spot him.

He’s gone.

Slowly, I walk back upstairs to my apartment. Chloe is in my living room, clutching the windowsill and staring at the sidewalk. She turns around when she hears me enter. “It was probably delivered by someone else anyway.”

“Probably.” I return to my apartment door and stare at the portrait.

Chloe comes to stand beside me. “Does this change things?”

I smile. “Yes. It does.”