It’s New Year’s Eve when I leave my cousin Riley’s place to find Andi. I don’t tell anyone where I’m headed. It may be a little awkward. None of my family knows Andi and I ever had a thing, and since Riley dates Mark, Andi’s brother, it could get a bit sticky. It’s better to keep it under wraps unless something develops between us. For all I know, Andi will tell me to go to hell. At this point, I just have to know, one way or another.

How many letters have I written her—a dozen or more?—only to be tossed in the trash because she could have moved on. And the burning question I’ve asked myself over and over still haunts me—why did I ever walk away in the first place?

All the flights are booked so I end up having to charter a plane. It doesn’t matter. I am ready for this unbearable wait to finally end. At this point, I would fucking walk to Chicago if I had to, but it would take too long and I don’t have the time right now.

Luckily enough, a friend of mine was able to book me an Airbnb. It’s in the vicinity of Andi’s apartment so it will be more convenient and comfortable than staying in a hotel room. When my flight lands, the car service I hired is waiting. It’s almost ten at night so I have the driver take me somewhere to grab a carryout for dinner on the way to the rental. By the time I make it inside, I collapse on the couch because it’s now eleven p.m.

I’m polishing off my sandwich and channel surfing when my phone rings. When I check to see who it is, I do a double take. What the hell is Lucia doing calling me at this hour? It’s eleven here, which means it’s five a.m. in Italy.

“Hello?”

“Ciao, Chase.”

The last person I want to talk to. “Lucia, why are you calling me?”

“Sei l’amore della mia vita.”

“English, please. I’m too exhausted to think in Italian.”

“I love you, Chase. I missed you and wanted to hear your voice.”

“Lucia. We’ve been through this. You and I have never been a we.”

“Ah, but I know you could not mean that. Voglio stare con te per sempre.”

“There is no forever for us. You knew that from the start.” My frustration rockets to an all-time high and I’m barely controlling my temper. When is she going to understand?

“Promise you won’t be angry with me. I hate when you are angry with me.”

“What’s going on?” My tone carries a warning note. “I’m already angry and will be more so if you don’t tell me.”

“The lady with the camera. She saw me and I told her …” As she speaks, her accent grows heavier and heavier until the only thing I can gather is something about a fiancé.

“Let me get this right. You told someone that we are engaged?”

“Si. She asked me about my ring and I explained, ‘È il mio fidanzato.’”

“I never gave you a ring, Lucia.”

“But, Chase, I was wearing one and she asked me. What could I say?”

“You could’ve told her the truth, dammit.”

This is just great. She told the damn paparazzi I was her fiancé. Wonderful. Now the world thinks we are going to be married because of a ring I never bought for her. I’ll be the asshole tomorrow when the world finds out she was jilted only one day later. I did nothing wrong except mess around with a lunatic.

It takes to the count of ten until I can speak. She keeps calling out my name, but I don’t respond. Then finally I say, “This is what’s going to happen. I’m going to call my agent, Max. I will explain exactly what you did. He’ll be in touch. And then you will retract what you said. We are done, Lucia. Finished. Don’t call anymore. If you do, don’t expect me to answer.”

I tap end and stare blankly at the TV screen. I made it plain from the beginning that there would never be anything permanent between us. How did I end up with that mess of a woman? She’s beautiful—a fashion model who can have any man she chooses. But for whatever reason, she only wants me, and I don’t want her. I don’t know how else to explain that to her. She refuses to let go.

Poor Max. He’s going to have to deal with the fallout of this. I shoot him a text and quickly explain. I end it with a, “don’t call me until at least nine a.m. my time.”

I flop into bed and try to get some sleep. Try. I lie awake and think of what Lucia did. That shit will be all over the tabloids by now. Football in Europe is huge, and so is Lucia. Christ. I throw off the covers and hunt down my phone. Scanning the internet, I find it’s already on the major Italian news networks. Her little video saying how thrilled and excited she is, flashing her stupid ring, and then a picture of me on the football field pops up. It’s the one where I scored a goal in the World Cup. Fuck my life. I text Max back, amending what I said earlier, telling him he can call me anytime. I won’t be sleeping much tonight. Then I throw my phone. Why the hell did I ever get involved with her in the first place?

In the morning, Max calls and he has a plan established. He’s going to have her retract what she said. If she doesn’t do it, he’ll make her sound like a stalker, which could damage her career. At that point, I will make a statement saying that our relationship ended over a month ago, when we parted ways, and it’s unfortunate Ms. Mazzanti remains under the delusion we are still together, even though I have urged her to seek professional counseling.

“You’re sure this will work?”

“Chase, if I read this to you, wouldn’t you retract your statement?”

“Yes! But, Max, she is delusional!”

“Don’t worry. I will pay her a visit, with a witness of course, and persuade her to do what we ask.”

When we end the call, I’m still uncertain she’ll do it. I won’t be satisfied until I see her statement. Damn, a thought just plows into me. I grab my phone and pull up TMZ, just to make sure that shit hasn’t hit over here too. And fuck if it hasn’t. What if Andi has seen it? What will she think? Probably that I’m a fucking asshole. If Lucia does the retraction tomorrow, maybe she’ll change her mind. But I can’t worry about that. Hopefully, Andi will give me a chance to explain things and I can make it right. That’s a huge if right now.

Andi … being this close to her makes me want to charge over to her apartment, tear down her door, and … and do what? What exactly would I say? I’ve come all this way and I need a strategy, a game plan. I can’t just show up out of the blue and not know what words will pop out of my mouth. It’s been too many years and so much has happened to both of us for that. I have to come up with the right things … show her what’s in my heart. And it can’t sound whiny, but dammit, I will beg if I have to. This is something I’ve thought about for years. And it all goes back to that afternoon in the barn … the last time we were together. I should’ve stayed or figured out a way to make it work between us. Long-distance relationships are difficult, but not always impossible. We could’ve done it. I would’ve done it. I’m still in love with her after all these years and if that doesn’t say something, I don’t know what does.

Checking the time, I notice it’s around nine. My plan is to shower, grab some breakfast, and then go find my girl. I have no idea if she’ll be home. It’s New Year’s Day, and who knows what she’s up to. Maybe she had a date. Or worse, what if she’s involved? My gut is razored as I conjure up a million unpleasant possibilities. At this point, food isn’t even appetizing. Liquid courage is more of what I need.

As I shower, I clear my head of everything. It’s a tactic I use before a game. If I don’t do this, I’ll be on the first plane out of Chicago and lose my chance with Andi forever. Then I head out of this place and find the first breakfast joint I can. I force a strong cup of coffee and a bagel down the hatch and then I take off in the direction of her apartment. It’s game time and the winner takes all. If she takes me back, we’ll both end up winners of this match.