Arthur gave me the rest of the day off.

“Go celebrate,” he told me. “That’s an order. There will be plenty of work for you to do next week.”

I wanted to do exactly that, but I couldn’t escape the hollow feeling that seemed to have taken up residence inside of me. I should have been thrilled. Should have been jumping for joy, running through the streets of Chicago screaming, or at the very least I should have been feeling something, anything.

I just felt numb.

All I wanted to do was see Emerson. He was the first person I wanted to tell when Arthur’s words had finally, truly sunk in. I wanted to celebrate with him. But I couldn’t.

But I could call my mom. She picked up on the second ring.

“Is everything OK?” she asked, sounding worried.

Not that I blamed her—besides a call every few weeks, we mostly communicated through text. But this was the kind of news that I had to tell her directly.

“Everything is fine,” I reassured her. “Actually, it’s better than fine.” I said, and then told her about the job.

“Oh honey, that is wonderful,” she told me. “I’m so proud of you.”

Those words triggered an avalanche of emotion. Emerson had said that to me the night of the gala, and it had meant so much to me. Hearing my mom say it, hearing the pride in her voice, just made me fall apart. Pretty soon I was sobbing into the phone.

“What’s wrong?” my mom wanted to know. “Are those tears of happiness?”

They were, but they weren’t. Everything that had happened between me and Emerson had happened so quickly that I had never gotten the chance to tell my mom. I had been waiting for the right moment, and then when it ended, I didn’t want to talk about it. But now, it was all coming out, my words barely audible between sobs as I told her about Emerson and what had happened between us.

“I’m so sorry, sweetie,” she said once I was done. “But people make mistakes, you know. Say things that they don’t mean.” She sighed. “Sometimes it’s better to get all that out on the table, instead of keeping it bottled up inside.”

“What are you saying?” I wanted to know. “Are you saying it’s good that we fought? That Emerson accused me of selling my soul?”

“Not at all,” my mother said quickly. “Those things he said to you were cruel. And you didn’t deserve them. But, I can tell you from experience, that a fight—even as bad as the one that you two had—doesn’t necessarily mean that you should give up.”

“What do you mean from experience?” We had never really spoken about my father.

“Well, honey.” My mom took a deep breath. “Your father and I never fought. Ever. When he left, it took me completely by surprise. Because he never mentioned that he was having problems, or doubts, or fears, or whatever it was that led him to leave.”

“He left because he was a coward,” I told her, my voice like steel.

“Yes, he was,” my mother agreed. “But sometimes I wonder that if we had talked—actually talked earlier—maybe we would never have gotten to that point.”

“You’re saying I should go talk to Emerson,” I concluded.

“I would never tell you what to do,” she countered. “But you need to follow your heart, wherever that leads.”

By the time we finished talking, I found myself standing in front of Rascals. I had walked all the way home from the office—completely on autopilot. I hung up, and stared at the OPEN sign hanging in the window.

Just talk to him, a voice inside my head suggested. What’s the worst that could happen?

You could catch him with another girl, a second voice offered. Or he could say cruel things to me. Break my heart all over again.

But I wanted to talk to him.

So I went inside.

Liam was behind the bar. Chase was nowhere in sight.

“Alex,” Liam said, his voice cautious. “How can I help you?”

I could have turned around and left. I didn’t.

“I was looking for Emerson,” I told him. “Is he here?”

The look that Liam gave me was sympathetic. “Emerson is out of town. Camping with Chase and Sawyer.”

Had I been avoiding the bar this week for nothing? How long had he been gone for? I wanted to ask, but I didn’t. I had a feeling that Liam might not tell me anyways.

So instead, I thanked him and headed upstairs to my apartment. I was turning the corner when I ran into someone.

“Hayley!” I was surprised to see her—especially surprised that she was in my building.

“Alex!” She threw her arms around me, pinning my own arms to my side. “I was hoping I’d catch you.”

“Are you OK?” I pulled back, searching her face for the reason she’d come.

“I’m fine,” she told me quickly, grabbing my arm. “But Emerson’s not. He’s clearly torn up over this breakup.”

My heart twisted—both in sympathy and relief. If I was in pain, it was only fair that he was too. But as mad as I was at him, I still hated the idea that he was hurting.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I told her, moving away. “But that’s not really my problem anymore.” It felt cruel and callous to turn Hayley away, but she basically ignored me.

“Have coffee with me,” she begged, giving me the saddest, most pathetic puppy dog eyes I’d ever seen. “Pretty please.”

I got the feeling that she wasn’t someone who would give up when it came to matters like this, so I sighed and invited her in for a cup of coffee.

“Just one cup,” I warned, and she nodded eagerly.

Her eyes were huge when she followed me into my apartment.

“Oh my God,” she said, looking around. “It’s so tiny.”

“Hayley,” I warned her, trying to get her to focus.

“Right.” She blinked and followed me towards the kitchen area of my tiny apartment. “I really appreciate you letting me in.”

I made us some coffee and the two of us crowded onto my small couch together, our knees bumping against each other. Hayley took a sip of her coffee, but I didn’t really feel like eating or drinking anything. I just wanted to hear what she had to say.

“Emerson is a mess,” she finally blurted out. “He refuses to tell me what happened at the night of the gala, only that you guys got into a huge fight and broke up.”

“That’s all he told you?” I demanded, knowing that while Emerson might not have spilled all of the details to Hayley, he definitely would have told her more than that.

Her cheeks got red, so I knew I was right.

“He might have mentioned that my father was involved as well.”

“That’s an understatement,” I said dryly. “Your father is an interesting guy.”

Hayley looked down at her coffee. She suddenly seemed very young. Very naïve.

“My family is . . . interesting,” she agreed. “We all love each other, but, well, we all have very bad ways of showing it. My father especially.”

“No kidding,” I snorted. “I’m pretty sure that telling your son that he’s a failure unless he turns his business into a franchise is not the best way to express your love.”

“He wants to turn Rascals into a franchise?” Hayley asked, her mouth dropping open.

“He wants the guys to sell it to some outside investors,” I confirmed, and watched anger spread over Hayley’s face.

“Well, that’s just not fair. And it belongs to them. Emerson would never let that happen.”

“I know that, you know that, Emerson knows that,” I agreed. “But your father doesn’t seem to be able to take no for an answer.”

Hayley nodded seriously. “He hates not getting his way,” she said. “He’s stubborn. But so is my brother. The two of them don’t get along because they’re so similar.”

“I think there’s more to it than that,” I told her.

“Maybe.” Hayley thought for a moment. “But the point is that my father and Emerson have a complicated relationship. And because of that, Emerson does things—stupid things—in reaction to my father. Things that he regrets.” She took my hands. “I know that he said some things to you that he wishes he could take back.”

“Did he say that?” I wanted to know.

“Not directly,” she admitted. “But I know my brother, and I know when he realizes he’s made a mistake. I also know that he can be too stubborn to admit that mistake.”

I looked at her. “I don’t really know what you want me to say.”

“I just want you to go talk to him,” Hayley begged. “Give him a chance to explain. To apologize. He’s miserable without you.”

“Is that why he ran away to the woods with the guys?” I asked.

My tone was sarcastic but Hayley’s nod was genuine.

“He didn’t know what to do,” she confirmed. “I told him to talk to you, to call you, but he’s too proud. Just please give him a chance to explain. To apologize.”

“I’ll think about it,” I told her.

“Thank you.” Hayley gave me a big hug. “You won’t regret it.”

Hours later, I was still unsure. I thought that a bottle of wine would help, but I was nearing the bottom of that bottle and I still didn’t know if I had the strength to confront Emerson. To talk to him.

But I couldn’t deny that every time I thought about him—every time I remembered the time we had spent together, a little spark of happiness spread through me. It filled up that empty space inside of me and made me long for more.

I had been so focused on my work for so long—working towards a goal that at many times had seemed unattainable.

Until now.

That goal—the job I had worked tirelessly towards for years—had been attained. I had my dream position, and I was on the fast track to a better life. One where I could afford to send my mother on a vacation and where I could buy myself designed clothes, instead of searching for them at consignment shops. I would belong among my peers.

I should have felt triumphant, but I just missed Emerson.

Everything had been better when I had him to share my life, my accomplishments and my frustrations with. He had supported me in a way that no other man had. He sacrificed his own comfort, his free time, his energy, to help me—going to events I knew he didn’t want to go to. Spending time with people he had spent a good portion of his adult life trying to avoid. I had been trying to be part of the world that he had been born into—a world that he had all but left.

And he came back to it. For me.

I should have listened to him. I should have trusted him when he warned me about his father the first time. I should have taken him at his word and been more careful. Cautious. And I should have told him exactly what the partners and his father had been planning. Instead, I hesitated, because I thought I knew best.

And everything had fallen apart.

He’d made a snap decision and said harsh things to me . . . But I’d made a bad judgment call, too. Hayley had said he was proud, but I was too. I thought I was the one who deserved an apology, and I’d been so busy not giving an inch, I hadn’t realized we both deserved one.

Maybe I couldn’t make Emerson see his mistakes, but I knew mine now, and I needed to at least try to make that right.

But what if I was too late?

I grabbed my phone and called Hayley. She picked up on the first ring.

“The guys went camping,” my words came out in a rush. “Do you know where they went?”