I was sitting in the coffee shop perfecting the lecture I was going to give Rowan about love, when Samson walked in, his blue tie flying up in the wind as he shut the door. When he spotted me, he frowned and stalked over, looking like a man on a mission. I laughed a little. He’d called me when I was in line getting my coffee and told me not to move until he made it here, and from the looks of it he seriously needed to talk about something.

“You look like a disheveled version of James Bond.”

“Yeah, thanks.” His brows rose as he sat across from me and clapped his hands together. “We need to talk.”

“Did something happen?” I sat up in my seat, bracing myself for health news. He’d been going to doctors lately and running tests and the mere thought of something being wrong with him sent my heart lurching into my throat.

“They’re getting married.”

“Oh.” I let out a semi-relieved breath, but my heart stayed put as I looked down at my empty pad. I didn’t need to jot down everything I was going to say to Rowan. I decided to do the one thing I never thought I would. I’d cut myself open and let it all spill out. “He told me.”

“No,” he said. “Like right now. They’re in the courthouse right now signing the papers in front of witnesses.”

“What?” I blinked up at him, shutting my book with a thump. I stood, coffee forgotten.

“It’s done,” he said. “He’s decided.”

“No.” I shook my head. “He couldn’t have just . . . I mean, he can’t . . . I have to go down there.” I ran outside, down the sidewalk and toward my truck.

“I’ll drive,” he said, taking the keys from me. “What exactly are you going to go down there for?”

“Why exactly did you come here to tell me that they were getting married?”

“Because I felt you should know. You should find out from me, from Ro, not . . . I don’t know. Not from other people.”

I felt like my heart was being punched repeatedly. I put my hand on it and pushed it in, massaged it like I’d seen people on television do when they were trying to revive someone. I glanced at Sam as we peeled out of the parking spot.

“Why aren’t you there?”

“I didn’t want to partake.”

“Are both your parents there?”

“And my grandparents. Yeah.”

Stupid parents. Stupid grandparents. Stupid fucking Hawthornes. He parked, and we walked into the courthouse. We put our things through the scanner and picked them up on the other side, continuing our quick walk to the marriage certificate area.

“Wait here. I’ll find out where they are.”

I nodded, heart rattling out of control. I felt sweat break out across my forehead and took a deep breath, wiping my face quickly. What would I say? Would I just barge in there and tell him not to marry her? Would I tell him I loved him? Would I stay and take the New York offer after all? It was the only way this would work out.

If I went to Paris . . .

I massaged my heart again. Oh god. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t tell him. I peeked inside the room and saw all couples sitting in front of the little windows, all there to fill out their certificates, probably preparing for the happiest day of their lives. I pondered leaving, running toward the exit and forgetting the whole thing. Then I remembered Grandma Joan and what she’d said about the importance of speaking our feelings. I kept my feet rooted there. I’d stay. I’d wait. I’d tell him. No matter what happened, I’d tell him.

A door down the hall opened, and I picked up my head to look at it. Samson and Rowan strode into the hallway and walked over to me. My gaze locked with Rowan’s, and I had my answer before he even made it over to me.

“I need to speak to her,” he said without looking to Sam. “Cover for me.”

Sam walked away, and Rowan tugged on my hand. I didn’t know where he was taking me, but in that moment, as I followed him through the door that led to the stairwell, I knew I’d follow him anywhere – no questions asked. When the door shut behind us, he turned and faced me again. We looked at each other for a moment, my heart beating uncontrollably, itching to get out of its cage. He brought his hand up, the tips of his fingers caressing my face as if to catalogue each feature.

“Rowan,” I whispered. His eyes snapped to mine. He took a step toward me, encasing me in his arms, and crashed his lips onto mine in a desperate kiss that spoke of anguish and goodbyes and made tears prick my eyes. When he broke the kiss, I could merely look at him.

“Please don’t do it,” I whispered.

“Tess—”

“I love you.” My voice wavered as I took in the shock in his eyes. My throat ached with the words as I spoke them, but I pushed past the thick emotion that threatened to cut them from coming into fruition. I’d come this far and I wasn’t going to let my fear of being turned away interfere with getting the truth out. “I’m pretty sure I’ve always been in love with you, and maybe I should’ve followed you to Columbia. I should’ve jumped and pulled you with me and—”

“Tessa.” His mournful plea broke into my sentence. He squeezed his eyes shut, and when he opened them again, I could see the pain in his gaze. I could feel it. I reached up and ran my shaking fingers over his cheek.

“I know you’re scared, but so am I.”

“No, Tessa,” he whispered. “You have Paris.”

“I don’t care about Paris. I care about you.” My words came out broken and felt as choppy as the tears running down my face.

“I’m not going to be the reason you stay here. You’ll end up resenting me. How can . . .” He exhaled loudly, shaking his head. “I’m not a lovable person. Don’t you see that? Don’t you see how miserable your life would be with me? The moment this contract goes through, I’ll be on an airplane all the time. There would be little time for you.”

“I don’t care,” I sputtered. I’ll take the New York apprenticeship. I’ll drive there every day, I’ll—”

“No.” He grabbed my arms, held my gaze. “You will not give up Paris for me. Not for anything.”

My lip wobbled. “It isn’t your choice to make.”

“It is. I want you to go. I need you to go.”

“Why are you doing this?” I pressed my hands on his chest and pushed him back a little. He laced his fingers through mine and brought his forehead to mine, closing his eyes.

“Tena Koe.” He exhaled onto me. I exhaled shakily, a new wave of tears breaking free from my lashes and running down my face. “This is what must be done.”

“I don’t want you to do this,” I whispered against his lips. We opened our eyes, our foreheads still touching, our fingers still laced together. “You’re going to ruin everything.”

“But not you. I won’t ruin you.”

“You have ruined me.”

“You’ll live.” He smiled slightly, but I could see the sadness in his eyes. “You’ll go to Paris and live out your dream, and I’ll be here, rooting you on from afar. You’ll be the best designer to come out of this town, and I’ll be so damn proud to say I had you in my life once.”

I shook my head. “No.”

“Yes.” He pressed his lips softly against mine.

“I’m in love with you, Rowan.”

“You can’t be, Sprite.”

“Stop saying that.” I hiccupped, trying to fight the tears, but they just kept coming. I was cutting myself open for him, and he wasn’t responding the way I wanted him to respond. “I love you.”

He brought his hands up to cup my face, brushing my tears with his thumbs. “You terrify me. Don’t you see that? You fucking terrify me.”

It was the first time I realized that ending up with the person you were in love with was a gift. A gift we wouldn’t be given. Even as the thought tore me apart, I grabbed his face and kissed him, hoping to breathe enough of my love into him for him to feel it, wishing it would change his mind. That I would talk him out of it so that we could be together. Really together. Instead, he broke the kiss slowly and held my face in his.

“Fly, little Sprite. Flap those beautiful, magical wings and fly.”

He let go. The door rattled with his exit, but I was unable to make myself move. He’d left me with my chest ripped open and my heart in my hands.