It only took a couple of seconds to find the clip Angela referenced on the phone.

“How in the world did she throw that together so quickly?” Andre stared at the computer screen as Hannah Billings wrapped up her spiel, and then he turned to me. “Are you okay?”

I started to nod and then leaned forward and started the clip over.

“Will, don’t…”

I ignored him. Once more Hannah went through the finer points of Harrison and Adrian’s live stream, reporting on it like it was as serious as war. A few chuckles here or there, knowing winks, side comments about the two of them, but then she really let loose, replaying moments from the video of Andre and me in the woods.

“No wonder Harrison ran from this guy. I mean, really!” Hannah cackled as the screen zoomed up on a frame where Andre and I had just broken apart from the kiss and were headed back to the house, both of us with swollen lips and our faces flushed. “What kind of loser does this? It’s got to be some sick fetish, maybe a self-flagellation type of thing. What man has an affair with the look-alike of the guy who broke up his marriage?” She gave a disappointing tsk. “Let’s be real. I’ve always felt sorry for Will Epstein. Humiliated in front of the whole world, but we all can understand that, right? We all hurt for him. One of those moments that a person cringes and thinks… that would be awful; thank God it wasn’t me. But now?” Another laugh. “Well, he isn’t just a sad sack anymore. He’s pathetic.”

My eyes stung.

“Will…” Andre reached out and grabbed my knee, his voice pleading and careful. “Don’t, she’s not worth it.”

A tear ran down my cheek, and I wiped it away hard enough to hurt. Goddamn it I was crying. I was fucking crying. I stood and started to pace.

“Will, seriously. She’s just one blogger. This will die down. No one else is even going to—”

I held out my hand, cutting him off, and didn’t dare meet his eyes.

If my father had been rolling in his grave before, now he was laughing so hard he was probably pissing the suit he’d been buried in. Every name echoed through me that he’d called me over the past few years, the constant reminders of what a disappointment I’d turned out to be, what a joke I’d become… It was all there, just in Hannah’s voice instead of my father’s, and laid out for the entire world to see—just a whole lot clearer this go around.

Andre was wrong. He probably even knew it. This wasn’t just going to be Hannah Billings. Not with something like this. She was right when she talked about before. It was delicious. People would eat it up, and then, just like me, replay it again, only to die laughing. Hell, chances were someone would do one of those stupid auto-tuned remix songs and sell it on iTunes, mash it together with bits from Harrison’s and Adrian’s attempts to make it better and moments from Harrison’s and my wedding.

I couldn’t go through it again. I just couldn’t. It had been humiliating enough before, but this. This? And the things that she’d said about me and Andre…

At that thought, I stopped pacing and stared at him.

It wasn’t a new thought. I’d had it myself a million times as I tried to talk myself into believing I wasn’t developing feelings for Andre over the years. He looked just like the man who’d married my fiancé. I’d forgotten how fucked-up that seemed. Maybe how fucked-up it was.

“Will…” There was a warning in Andre’s voice. He stood, crossed the room, and stopped in front of me, then took both of my shoulders in his grip. “I know that look. I know it. You’re thinking of running.”

Was I?

Yeah. Hell fucking yeah, I was. Even so, I shook my head. “No. There’s just got to be a way to fix this. There has to be.” I started to pull away from his grip, but didn’t, knowing it would hurt him. “Maybe Angela’s right. Even if I don’t go with her, I mean, there’s a chance that she’s not responsible for the clip. I almost believe her.” My thoughts were moving too fast, like it mattered. “I could do a live stream like Harrison and Adrian. Or another show of some sort. Of anything. She said she can get me one. And I guarantee you the studio would definitely be interested now.”

Horror crossed Andre’s face. Or maybe it was disgust.

I couldn’t blame him. Neither could I stop myself. “Maybe a cooking show. I’m not that good yet, but maybe it doesn’t matter. It might be enough to show them that I’m not such a fucking fool.”

“You’re not!” He gave me a hard shake. “Do you hear me? You’re not.”

I nearly laughed, except I realized there were more tears rolling down my cheeks. “All the evidence begs to differ.”

“This is old shit, all of it. From the video to how it’s making you feel, all of it. It will be better in the morning. And then better and better every day that passes. People will forget; they did before.” He licked his lips and tried to smile. “And this time, you don’t have to go through it on your own. Not any part of it.”

He kissed me.

Andre pulled me into him and kissed me, holding me tight.

And, Goddamn it, I couldn’t respond. Not any part of me, not my lips, not my body, not even my heart. I just wanted to get away. Dig a hole and fucking hide in it.

How could he kiss me? How could he hold me? Couldn’t he see that everyone I touched ended up looking like a fool, just like me?

When I didn’t kiss him back, he pulled away, a growing fear in his eyes. “Will?”

“I need to go. I’m sorry. I just need to…” I pulled slightly, and he released me. “I just need to go.”

I made it to his door before he called out. “You’re running.”

I managed to shake my head.

“Yes, you are.” He took a step closer but stopped. “You promised me. You said you weren’t going to run again. That you weren’t going to leave me like you did before.”

That broke through.

Enough that I almost went to him, but I couldn’t. Even so, I looked in his eyes and held his gaze, even though it hurt to have him look into my soul in that moment. “I won’t run. I’m not leaving you. I promise.” I cleared my throat, realizing how thick it sounded with the emotional mess I was. “I’m going to my home…” No, I still had renters in my home. “I’m going to Mom’s. Not to England, not to… anywhere. I’ll see you tomorrow. I promise.” And with that, I turned and left the house. I didn’t exactly run to the car, but it was close.

I woke after a night of fitful sleep. A night of very little fitful sleep. Hannah Billings was right about one thing. I did have some twisted form of self-flagellation. I watched her clip several more times as the night dragged on, and found a host of others popping up, all with similar themes of what a chump Will Epstein was. Every once in a while, there was one that was pitying, but that was worse.

When I went back to my old room after breakfast and watched the video of Harrison’s and my wedding, his famed dash down the aisle, the expression of shock on my face, I realized I’d entered truly dark territory and decided I had to get out of the house.

There was exactly one call from Andre. He left a voicemail telling me good morning, reminding me that it was all going to be okay. Though it was unspoken, I heard the question in his tone. Heard the doubt that I’d even respond.

I did. Though I took the wussy way out and sent a text message, promising I’d see him face-to-face later in the day.

Running truly did sound like the best option. England, as ever, called to me. I’d run there the first time, after Harrison, licking my wounds, rolling around in my anger, and fucking my way through every Brit man who’d have me. I’d run the second time, after Andre, and found myself.

I had. I really had found myself, or at least started to. Maybe Andre was right, perhaps this was just a glitch, a setback.

Either way, England wasn’t an option. Andre was in Lavender Shores.

I wasn’t sure where things would go with us. I had felt so certain for those brief hours we’d had together. Had it really been only a matter of hours? Just a matter of a couple of days? We’d seemed… so settled, so certain. Though it had been a matter of hours or days, there’d been years building up to what we’d ultimately stumbled into.

I wasn’t going to run from that. Even if he came to see that I was just as big of a fool as the world claimed, as my father claimed. Even if he ended up being the one turning away and running. I didn’t know how I’d survive that, but I knew if I walked away from him now, any life I built without him would be a shadow of what could be.

And if I was going to fight for him, if I wasn’t going to run away to England or somewhere else, there were some things I needed to do on my own.

Every single eye was on me as I walked down the streets of Lavender Shores. Every. One. I guarantee no one noticed the old trees that lined the streets, as their red and gold leaves drifted down. They didn’t appreciate the charming and classic architecture. There wasn’t any window-shopping to be done.

The scandal of the moment, Will Epstein, was walking down Bluffs Boulevard, then took a right onto Ocean Way. I imagined the man they saw looked like the one they’d seen for nearly the past four decades. His shoulders were back, his chin was up, and he strolled with slow purpose. Like the entire world was beneath him.

Maybe it wasn’t the best move, but it was all I had. It was either that, the old habit of superiority, or positively crumbling.

If they could see inside that picture-perfect exterior, they’d know that everything Hannah Billings and her ilk said was true.

Seth had called, playing the role of best friend perfectly, as always. It was so tempting to rush to the Blue Blossom and take shelter with him and his bar. But I couldn’t take the easy way out, not this time.

I made it to the doors of Lavender Leaves in one piece—no one uttered a single word, and I hadn’t turned tail and run.

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been to the coffee shop. But I’d known it would be bustling with people. And I needed the biggest bang for my buck. It was either the coffee shop or one of the restaurants, but I didn’t trust myself to make it through an entire meal.

Once more Seth and Blue Blossom called to me.

Pete Marks’ old dark eyes widened as he saw me enter.

No turning back.

I thought I noticed the corner of Pete’s lips twitch like he was about to smile. I didn’t bother trying to read into the expression. With Pete, you never knew; it could go any number of ways.

“Morning, Pete.” I put my hands on the counter as I arrived. They didn’t tremble. “I’d love a…” My mind went totally blank. I opened my mouth and nearly ordered a red wine, then remembered where I was. “A… ah…”

“How about an Americano?” The old fucker winked. “I’m betting you could use the caffeine.”

“Sounds good. Thanks. And a…” Goddamn it. I motioned toward the pastry case. “Whatever is the freshest.” My voice didn’t shake, at least, even though I could feel the eyes of the entire coffee shop at my back.

Pete leaned forward and lowered his voice. “You’re lucky I’m betting you’re not having the best morning so I’m cutting you some slack. If anyone else suggested that any item of mine wasn’t fresh, they would get kicked out of here on their ass, let me tell you.” He straightened yet again, and when he smiled, there was no interpretation required. “I’ve got a really good raspberry-and-white-chocolate coffeecake. I’ll warm it up for you.”

I started to say thank you but realized my throat had tightened at the kindness in his eyes, so I just nodded.

He seemed to take forever, though it was probably only a matter of moments before he came back with the Americano and took my credit card. I called on every ounce of inner strength to keep from turning around and looking at all who were staring at me. All the ones who were whispering. Maybe they weren’t whispering. But I could hear them. Maybe their whispers weren’t about me. But they were.

How the fuck could I stay in Lavender Shores?

Pete patted my hand with his warm weathered one. “Be right back with your coffeecake.”

The toaster oven beeped as he approached. And just as he was sliding the pastry out, something smacked hard against my arm. Twisting, I looked down to see an old woman standing inches from me.

The scene threw me off enough that it took me a moment to both remember her name and realize that she’d just hit me with her purse.

“You’re an embarrassment to this town.” The woman sneered, her lips curling up to reveal milky white dentures. “Just like your father before you.” She lifted her eyes heavenward in her onslaught. “God rest his soul.” She jammed a finger where her purse had just assaulted. “Going after a married man. So what if that lovely Harrison ran away from you? Obviously he knew what he was doing. Found out you were scum before he tied the knot.” She shook her head. “And now, poor boy, his husband is out canoodling with you in the woods in front of God and everybody.”

“Now, Hazel—” Pete was back, and glared at the woman. “None of this in my shop. Goodness, you might be a decade younger than me, but you’re old enough to know better.”

She sputtered, but before she could get out a reply, an arm slinked over my shoulders and just as I started to flinch away, Robert Kelly leaned in between us. I hadn’t even noticed him when I walked in, not that I’d scanned the coffee shop. “Oh, come on now, Pete. We all love a good tidbit of gossip.” While he spoke he rubbed his hand over my back as he refocused on Hazel. “But your skills are slipping, Hazel. You only got part of the story. You must’ve gone to bed too early. I suggest you go home and catch up.” He lifted his voice, just slightly, and somehow he managed to infuse both humor and warning into his tone. “Besides, weren’t you just telling us in book club a couple weeks ago about that tawdry affair you had with that married—”

She smacked him with her purse. “Robert Kelly, you shut your filthy mouth.”

He just grinned wider and lilted his voice upward. “I can’t remember, was he a politician or a preacher?”

She smacked him again. “You are going to hear about this in book club.” And she whirled and scuffled toward the front door.

“Oh, good!” Robert called after her. “I’ll look forward to that. And please, bring pictures.” He raised his free hand, waving it frantically in the air, though Hazel wasn’t watching, and then turned to Pete and me with a laugh. “She’s a hoot, that one.” He finally released my shoulder and slipped his thumbs into the rainbow suspenders he wore over his shiny pink shirt.

“I heard it was both.” Pete leaned in once more but focused on Robert. “Two affairs! A politician and a preacher.” He nodded in confirmation of his own story and then smiled at me as he handed over the coffeecake. “I’m hoping you and that Rivera boy will be happy. Whichever of them you choose.” He paused as Robert giggled, then held my gaze. “Truly, I do. Andre’s been through enough hurt. He deserves some happiness. And I’m hoping you do too.”

As Pete went on to the next customer, Robert motioned over to a table. “Debbra and I are having a bite. Why don’t you join us?”

For the billionth time in the past few hours, my emotions threatened to get the best of me. I managed to shake my head.

He frowned, a rare expression on Robert Kelly’s face. “Come now, I know the Epsteins and the Kellys haven’t always seen eye to eye. And I know your dad found me to be an insufferable fool. Trust me, he’s not the only one. But…” He studied me, quite serious. “I didn’t expect this from you. I thought I’d been seeing you change over the past years, at least before you moved to England.”

I had to wipe my eyes again at that. Robert Kelly and I had rarely said more than two words to each other. But it seemed he’d been watching. “No.” I managed to choke out words. “It’s not that.” I looked over his shoulder at Debbra, who gave a smile and a wave, the classier version of her husband’s frantic style, then she beckoned me over. I refocused on Robert. “You sure you want to be seen with me?”

His frown morphed into a brilliant smile. “Are you kidding? Just ask Debbra; there’s nothing I love more than sitting at a table with a magnificent hunk of man. Plus”—he smacked my chest—“I always like to get my gossip from the horse’s mouth.” Once more he slid his arm over my shoulder and led me toward the table. “You know, it strikes me, we Kellys and Epsteins should do more things together.”

“I agree.” Debbra patted an empty chair at their table. “However, it sounds like we Kellys, Epsteins, and Riveras need to do more things together.”