My father always told me that if something were meant to be, I wouldn’t have to chase it. That fate and I would meet just where we should, at just the right time.

Seven days ago, in the pool, I thought that my destiny and I had finally collided. Now, I’m starting to wonder if I imagined it. I re-read his email every day to make sure I haven’t. We hadn’t talked all week until today when he called to say he wasn’t going to be coming to Malibu for the weekend after all.

I’d let hope have a home in my heart after our conversation that night. And each day that’s passed without hearing from him, it’s faded a little. I know he’s been busy and I decided to let him have the space to focus on his family and work. But when he called today and said he wasn’t coming up this weekend, I’d wanted to beg him to come.

Instead, I pretended I was fine while we spoke and I’ve spent the day trying to ignore the ache in my chest. I had the day off so I spent most of it bingeing on my favorite show, Master of None. It’s what I wish my immigrant story looked like. Legal, successful and with an intact family.

I ordered in Thai food and besides the delivery man, I haven’t seen or spoken to another human being all day. It’s the kind of day I’d normally relish. But instead I’ve been miserable.

Finally sick of sulking, I force myself to go outside. The fire pit is roaring and I’m sitting, watching the waves as they crash onto the shore, over and over. The majesty of it all is incredible. I wish Julian was here to share it with me. I miss him so much.

I know he’d be proud of me. He thought I could do anything. And even though my parents were building all their hopes on him, he used to tell me that I was going to change the world. That we would do something great together. Well, now we are.

I lift my glass to the sky and toast him. His death won’t be in vain. I’m just taking a sip when I hear a noise from the side of the house. I jump off the chair and grab the bottle of wine I brought outside with me. It’s not an ideal weapon, but it’s all I’ve got.

“Who’s there?” I call out to the dark, my heart sprinting as I wait . . . and then I see him.

Reece steps out of the dark of the house’s shadow and onto the deck. The light from the fire illuminates him and my heart leaps with joy as I take him in. He’s dressed in a suit, like he’s just come from the office, but he’s taken off his tie and opened the top button of his shirt. I can see the smooth, tan column of his neck. I want to run to him and place a kiss on that exposed skin. I want to tell him how much I’ve missed him.

But the look on his face stops me. He doesn’t look happy to see me. My joy at seeing him is replaced with a foreboding feeling that something terrible is about to happen.

“Reece, are you okay?” I ask when he doesn’t say anything. His face is in partial shadow, but I can sense that anger and hurt hold equal weight in his expression. Tears prick my eyes because I know what’s coming is going to hurt.

“Why didn’t you answer the phone?” His voice is hoarse, like he hasn’t slept in days.

“What do you mean?” I ask honestly confused.

He takes a step toward me.

“The phone. I called it. Twice.”

“My phone is inside. I didn’t know you’d been calling.”

He takes another step forward and I look up at him. The look in his eyes sends a shiver through me. They’re flat, cold. I don’t move. A thousand butterflies spread their wings and take flight inside my gut. Icy fear pricks my veins.

“Is your dad okay, Reece?” I ask him.

“He’s fine,” he snaps, but doesn’t say anything else.

I come to step in front of him, to look him in the eye, his voice is so grave.

My heart skips a beat.

“Reece, tell me what’s wrong. You’re scaring me.” My voice breaks on that last sentence and he flinches.

“I learned a lot of things from my marriage. But if I had to choose one life lesson that is non-negotiable for me, it’s dishonesty.”

I am suddenly on alert. Reece’s eyes have a dangerous glitter to them and I can see that he’s angry and I have no clue why.

“Tell me about chapter fifteen, Lucía.”

I draw a blank. “What’s chapter fifteen?”

He flexes his jaw, and my heart is sprinting now. What could have made him so angry? “Chapter fifteen in your fucking book. Where did you get that story from? I know you. It’s not from your imagination.”

Goose bumps erupt from my scalp to the soles of my feet. How does he know that?

“Throw Away the Key is fiction—” I start to say.

He growls and stops me by grabbing my arms and puts his face close to mine. He seethes. “No. It’s. Not.”

I wince and he loosens his grip on my arms. “Tell me the truth, Lucía. I’m warning you—if you lie to me, I’ll fire you. And I’ll make sure no one else will work with you either.”

My heart catches in my throat and I feel a surge of fear. What is going on? I try to sound calm and try to answer his question.

I look at him, feel the pinch of his fingers on my arms and rage, hot and wild supplants my fear. How dare he threaten me? I wrench my arms out of his hold and meet his accusations head on. “I have never lied to you.”

He steps toward me and I put my hands on his chest, holding him away. “Don’t you dare touch me again,” I say, my voice shaking with my anger. “Yes, parts of the story are taken from my real life. And you can’t come in here, put your fucking hands on me and threaten me. I don’t have to tell you shit.”

“The hell you don’t. Tell me about chapter fifteen,” he roars and I can see real anguish in his eyes. I don’t understand any of this.

“Reece, chapter fifteen is based on what happened to my brother, Julian. I wanted to pay to tribute to him, by including what happened to him in this story,” I tell him as I look into his eyes. I’m tired and unable to fight any longer.

He steps back. His eyes going from angry to horrified. The dread almost overwhelms me and I take a stumbling step backward, too. I have a feeling that distance between us might be a very good thing right now.

“I thought you’d read the book months ago. Why are you only now asking about chapter fifteen?”

His shoulders sag a little and he turns to face me. When he speaks his voice is mournful.

“I hadn’t finished it. I got to the half way point and knew I had to find you and make it into film, I didn’t even care how it turned out. I’ve been meaning to finish it… but I’ve been busy.”

Any other day, I’d be upset that he’d only pretended to read it all, but right now, that feels insignificant.

“Then, how do you know about chapter fifteen and how did you know it isn’t fiction?” I ask, dread creeping into me, hope, seeping out.

Far from the angry way he started this conversation, Reece seems almost despondent.

“Lucía, I want to tell you a story. But before that, I want to tell you that I meant what I said in the pool. And I meant what I said in my email.” He tugs me into his chest and holds me there. I let myself savor the contact. My anger has lost its fuel. It’s been replaced by icy fear.

“Reece, whatever it is. I don’t want to know. Please,” I beg.

His lips caress the top of my head when he speaks. “I’ve got real feelings for you.” My arms circle his waist. “I’ve been struggling this week. I’ve thought about us being in a relationship and worried that you were too young to be locked into one.” I squeeze him. “I thought it might be too soon for you. And there was also the whole ‘you work for me’ thing that I thought would make things difficult. But I’m not a kid. I’ve got an ex-wife who’s a pain in the ass. And you’re not ready for the kind of media attention you’ll get when we get together. And then there’s your status. We’ve got to figure out a way to do something about it.”

Even though he’s in my arms, with each sentence, I feel like he’s taking a step away from me.

His hands come up and skim my face, his eyes mournful, his fingers wiping the moisture from my cheeks. It’s only then that I realize I’m crying. “But fuck me, I can’t stay away from you. I have moments every day, where you’re all I can think about. So, I decided I was going to drive out here tomorrow and just tell you how I feel and what I want.”

Hope, a small and fragile fleck of it, flutters in my chest.

“And then I read chapter fifteen, And Luc, I’ve been so angry ever since. I drove here to rip you a new one. I thought you’d been lying to me . . . but this is so much worse.”

I’ve clearly missed something, but just like that my hope is gone again. I take a deep breath, close my eyes and brace myself.

“I know that story, Lucía. It’s my story.”