Breaking up with Gabriel da Silva was the hardest thing I’d had to do in my adult life so far.

I told him on a beautiful Californian spring day when the sky was the sort of blue little girls would color into pictures of happy families and days by the beach. Classic LA perfection, but for me it was no ordinary day.

I’d asked Gabe to meet me at my new house, or what would soon be my new house. My assistant had found it the day I’d visited Dina, and I’d gone to see it the following morning in an attempt to cheer myself up. As soon as I’d arrived, I knew it was the one. I’d just picked up the keys and Damon and I would start moving our things in next week.

I watched Gabe stroll along the edge of the pool that offered breathtaking views of the city and coastline. The house lay behind us. I’d gone for modern. I hadn’t expected I’d like modern so much. I’d enjoyed staying at Faith’s cozy house, but I realized when I’d seen this I wanted something fresh and new. Not Old World charm like Mama or homely like Faith. Something that was bright and let in a lot of light. It was all that and more. It had three levels. I’d take the upstairs level, with more of those amazing views, while Damon was happy with the basement level. He was already making enquiries about setting up a studio. The middle level held the kitchen and living areas that led out to the pool area where we were currently standing.

“It’s very Hollywood,” Gabe said, taking in the vista.

“That’s who I am.”

I couldn’t see his eyes behind his sunglasses but those two lines appeared in his brow. “I didn’t mean it as a bad thing.”

“I know.” I walked over to him. I wasn’t going to drag this out. We’d done the small talk when he arrived and both of us were nervous. “I visited Dina.”

He blew out a long breath. “And?”

“And I think where you’re standing right now this place must feel like some sort of alternate universe.”

The lines deepened. “That was a long time ago.”

“But you still don’t believe you have a right to be here.”

He turned away and shoved his hands into his pockets. “You’re asking me to trust in something that could be gone tomorrow.”

“The band is over and you’re still standing here,” I pointed out. “And it’s not about the house or money or the fame. It’s the fact you feel you don’t deserve to be here.”

“I don’t!” He strode over and I saw my reflection in his glasses. “What makes me any different to any of those kids I grew up with? Some of them are dead now, Chloe. Others may as well be. And what’s different? Luck. Damn, stupid luck.”

“So you’re lucky I love you then? Is that it?”

Gabe flinched and took a step back. I couldn’t stop the bubble of laughter at his predictable reaction to my expressing my love for him. Gabe frowned. How long had it been since he smiled? I missed his easygoing laughter.

“I’m surprised you even wanted to see me again after seeing Dina,” he said.

“Why on earth would you say that?”

“Because I’ve done jail time, Chloe! Do you really want to be with a guy like that?”

“You mean a guy who suffered the worst sort of childhood possible and saved a woman’s life?”

“I almost killed someone.”

“I think you’re concentrating too hard on the negatives. You saved a woman’s life, Gabe.”

“I was lucky I didn’t kill him or things would have been a lot different.”

“But you didn’t. And I don’t deny luck is a big part of things. I was lucky to be born into a Hollywood family. You didn’t have that privilege. You had a shitty, unlucky life for a really long time. But life is also about what you make of it. You could have let your time in jail define you. You didn’t. You worked honest jobs to get by and you made your own way. That’s not luck, that’s grit. You know what Mama once told me? ‘Grit will get you through when Lady Luck deserts you.’ You have grit, Gabe. That’s why you’re here. That was you.”

Gabe stared at me for a long time. I wished I could see behind his glasses because what I was about to ask wasn’t something I was taking lightly. I’d argued with myself for days about it, but in the end I knew what I had to do.

“Gabriel da Silva,” I began.

“That’s not my—”

“Yes, it is. You got it changed legally so that’s what you’re called. Gabriel da Silva, do you love me?”

Silence stretched between us. A light breeze rustled the palm trees and the perfect day seemed oblivious to my heartache.

“I . . . ” Gabe hung his head. “I can’t.”

I closed my eyes and inhaled a breath of the salty air. That was what I had thought. That was my answer. I opened my eyes and walked over to him. I put a hand on his cheek, which was now smooth.

“I know. Which is why I’m breaking up with you.”

Gabe stilled. I knew the exact second it happened because even his chest failed to move. He was holding his breath. That told me two things: he did care for me and he still held hope for us.

“Not for good, you understand, but I’m letting you go for a while.”

“Huh?”

I almost laughed. He was breathing again and probably thought I was a crazy female, which I was pretty sure I was.

“Gabe, I may only be twenty-one, but I’m not going to be in a relationship with someone who can’t love me. So go figure yourself out. Learn to believe in yourself. Every time I tell you, you won’t hear it. Go use some of that grit and make something of yourself. City of Angels and all that.”

His mouth fell open. “I’m the drummer in Gypsy Hour. Isn’t that good enough?”

I laughed. “Were. You were the drummer. What I mean is you need success on your own terms. And I don’t care if you’re the hottest rock star in the world, the Gabriel da Silva I want, need, is someone who is secure in my love for him.”

“So what? You’re breaking up with me, but you still love me?”

I smiled. “Screwed up, isn’t it? Basically what it means is I don’t want to see you, talk to you or message you until you’re ready. That might be in a month, six months, or a year.”

“I can’t expect you to wait for me,” he sputtered.

“And I can’t expect you to be in a relationship with me when you’re not even capable of loving yourself, let alone me. God, that makes me sound like a self-help book, but it’s true.”

“You could write one,” Gabe suggested, the first hint of humor I’d seen from him in a while.

“True. I might leave it for a bit and see if my advice works though.”

Gabe pushed his sunglasses onto his head and looked into my eyes. “How long, Chloe? How long have I got? I want to make this work.”

“You want to love me? That’s the thing. You’ll know, Gabe. You’ll just know. I guess I can’t promise anything. Maybe I’ll meet the man of my dreams next year and that would suck. Or maybe it’s been you all along.”

“We can’t leave it like this. Give me a date. Give me something.”

“Gabe, you have my love. No matter what happens between us, you’ll always have that. And if you want a date, make it my twenty-second birthday next year.”

He pressed his forehead to mine and I could feel the pain thrumming through him.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered.

“No,” I told him. “No more sorry. Go live your life, Gabe. Write some wonderful songs. I can’t wait to hear them. Meanwhile, I’m doing a Broadway show and I’ve just signed on for my first action movie.”

Gabe eased back. “Seriously? That’s awesome. But aren’t action movies dangerous? All the stunts and everything?”

“Shh. If I told you that, I’d have to kill you.”

He smiled and for the first time that morning my mood matched the weather.

Perhaps it was typical Chloe Kemp of me, but I had to believe, somehow, someday, this was all going to work out.