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  I nodded. “Ovarian. The doctors say it’s spread, and her chances…they aren’t good. She’s decided not to get chemo.”

  “Oh my God, Sky. I’m so sorry. How did Dillon take it?”

  “Not good. I mean, he seems to be doing all right, but his heart is broken.”

  “I bet. Man.”

  “The thing is, Camilla has worked so hard her whole life, you know? She raised two boys on her own, and she has worked two or sometimes even three jobs at a time. Shit, she helped my mom get a job when we first moved to Maryland. Her husband went to prison and never came back, and then her oldest son was murdered. How much can one woman take?”

  TJ shook her head and peered down at her bowl of ice cream.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to bring you down. I just needed to vent.”

  “No, it’s okay. What else happened?”

  I took another big bite of ice cream, wondering if I should say more.

  “Sky?”

  “My mom said she thinks Dillon and I should be together.”

  Her eyebrows lifted so high, they disappeared under the scarf she had wrapped around her head. “Say what?”

  “Right? That’s what I said. But…you have to swear you won’t say anything to anyone…”

  TJ sat taller. “I swear.”

  I gave her my most threatening stare to make sure she understood how serious I was before confessing any more. She lifted her hand and crossed her heart before pretending to zip and lock her lips shut.

  “I’ve been thinking about Dillon a lot lately. I know people have always said we should date. I’ve heard that for years, but I’ve always blown it off. But, when I really think about it and everything we’ve been through together…it’s hard not to wish she was right.”

  A wide grin slowly crept across her lips.

  “No, don’t do that. Don’t make that face.”

  “Dude. You and Dillon? Are you kidding me? You would make the perfect couple. I mean, look at you two! You’re practically like an old married couple anyway.”

  “What? No, we aren’t.”

  The grin dropped from her face, and she pursed her lips. “You guys can finish each other’s sentences. It’s like you have some weird telepathy or something.”

  “Yeah, well, it doesn’t matter. He’s with Natasha. And, besides, do you know how messy it would be if we dated and things didn’t work out? We could never go back to being just friends again.”

  She opened her mouth to argue with me, but I didn’t give her a chance.

  “And he’s dating a model, remember? Natasha.”

  TJ rolled her eyes. “Please.”

  “Please what? Natasha is gorgeous, and she’s nice. Did you not see them that day at her apartment? Now, they looked like an old married couple.”

  “No, they looked like a newlywed couple. There’s a difference. Old married couples know each other inside and out. She doesn’t know Dillon the way you do.”

  “Yeah, well, Dillon knows me, too.”

  “So? What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “He knows I’m a total mess. Everyone does. Look at my life. I keep saying I want to be a famous designer, but I’m too scared to even try. I’m a fake, a phony! I act like I’m strong, but inside…I’m terrified, T.”

  I closed my eyes as my emotions got away from me. TJ put her hand on my arm.

  “I’m scared of failure. I’m scared of getting hurt. I’m scared of being alone. So, what do I do? I push people away and pretend like I don’t care.”

  “Oh, Sky.”

  “Why did I put myself in this situation, T? I’m in a relationship with a polyamorist, who, at this very moment, is walking down the street, holding hands with his other girlfriend. I saw them on the way home, and it tore me apart.”

  TJ took my hand in hers. “I’m sorry.”

  I nodded and took another bite of ice cream. I needed it.

  “You’re the most loyal friend I’ve ever had, Sky. You’re thoughtful, you’re funny, and you’re real. I think you’re amazing.”

  Setting her bowl and my carton of ice cream aside, she pulled me in for a hug, and I squeezed her back.

  “You aren’t a mess, Sky. You’re finding your way. You’ll get there.”

  I stared at a framed photo of Dillon and me sitting on our side table and had to close my eyes. “I hope so.”

  It was a busy day at work on Monday. Frederico was on a rampage, and unfortunately, I was the one who bore the brunt of his tirades. Luckily, he would be leaving the country again tomorrow. On the bright side, I was so stressed out with work, I didn’t have much time to think about Dillon, Camilla’s cancer, or Logan and Sasha.

  Despite my talk with TJ the night before, I still had no idea what I was going to do. I knew, if I was going to make a decision, I’d have to talk to Logan about how I was feeling first. He deserved my honesty. I loved being with him, and I thought he was a great guy, but as much as I tried, I just didn’t think I could keep sharing him with other women. If things between us had stayed casual, it might not have been so bad, but he’d insisted on having my heart, and I’d stupidly given it to him. I should have thought about the consequences first, but that wasn’t what I had done. I always jumped first and asked questions later.

  Unfortunately, now, I was alone in the office, trying to organize some invoices, and Logan was all I could think about. Sighing, I dropped the receipts on the desk and fell back into my chair. I needed to do something about this.

  I sent Logan a text.

  Sky: Hey. Where are you?

  Logan: Hey, babe. I’m at the gym. You want to meet up later?

  Standing up, I collected my things, walked out the door, and headed toward Solid. I couldn’t wait until later.

  When the cab pulled up in front of Logan’s gym, I sat there for a minute with my hand on the door handle, second-guessing my decision. I was terrified that, once Logan found out how I felt, he’d simply dismiss me.

  What am I about to ask him? To give up his lifestyle? His other girlfriends? For me?

  I gazed up at the bright Solid sign on the front of the building.

  “Is this your stop or what?” the cab driver asked, rushing me.

  “I’m going, I’m going,” I muttered, handing him a twenty and opening the door.

  You can do this, Sky.

  The cab drove off, and I closed my eyes, imagining Dillon was there with me. I always imagined he was with me when I was too chickenshit to do something. I knew, if he were here, he’d be pushing me through that door, telling me to go talk to Logan. So, that was what I’d do.

  Squaring my shoulders, I walked forward and in the front door. I’d been to the gym with Logan a couple of times before when he had to stop by and check on things. Looking toward the back office, I noticed the light was on. A few people were working out on machines, but the front desk was empty, so I walked past it and toward the office. I could hear Logan’s voice, and I felt more anxious, the closer I got to the door.

  You can do this. You can do this.

  “Who? Sky?”

  I froze when I heard Logan say my name. His voice was the only one I heard, so I knew he was on the phone.

  “I don’t understand, Sasha. You hardly know her. Yeah, well, that won’t be easy. I’ve missed you, too, babe, but we were just together last night. You know how I feel about you. Come on. I’ll take tomorrow off, and we’ll spend the day together.”

  The room grew silent, and I assumed he was listening to her on the phone. I leaned against the wall, my heart pounding in my chest, as I kept eavesdropping.

  “So, wait, is this an ultimatum? You’re going to make me choose? That’s not fair, Sasha. I love you both.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut and held my breath as I waited to hear what he’d say next.

  “Okay, fine. If that’s what you need from me, I’ll do it. Of course it’s you, Sasha. I’ll always choose you.”

  A splintering pain shot through my chest and into my heart. He’d
chosen her. Even after everything we’d been through, after I’d let him back into my life and given him a second chance…none of that mattered. It never had.

  I sucked in a ragged breath, begging my body to stay strong. I couldn’t break down. Not here. Tears gathered in my eyes, and I quickly swiped them away. He’d already taken my tears once. He wasn’t going to have them again.

  Pushing off the wall, I held myself together and walked out of the gym, all while my heart was falling apart.

  DILLON

  Monday night, I sat on my couch, holding a beer in one hand and scratching Kuma’s head with the other. I’d decided to spend the night at my apartment alone. I needed time and space to think about my mom, Sky, Natasha, my life, my music…all of it.

  I’d spent most of the evening talking to my mother’s insurance agency and making sure she could have a nurse stay with her once her health declined. I had a hard time swallowing the guilt, knowing it wouldn’t be me taking care of her every day.

  Natasha had been really supportive when I told her about my mom. She’d done her best to comfort me and let me know she’d help in any way she could, which was really all I needed from her. It had all gone fine until she started making comments that caught me off guard.

  She’d mentioned that her dad had a friend in the city who managed an insurance company. He was hiring for an entry-level position, and she’d suggested that I go in for an interview. She’d said that, if I wanted to help my mom, maybe this could be my way to do it…by making more money. Not only had she exposed my fear of inadequacy, but she’d also talked to her father about it. Maybe he’d found out what I did for a living and conveniently mentioned it to his daughter. Either way, it’d left me feeling like shit.

  I took a swig from my beer as her words replayed in my mind.

  “My dad said they’re holding interviews this Friday. I’m sure you could get the job. It wouldn’t hurt to try, Dillon. It’s not like you’d have to stop playing music or anything. It would just provide a stable income, and that way…you know…if the music thing didn’t work out, you’d have something to fall back on.”

  I knew she meant well, and she was being rational. It was time for me to grow up and face the fact that my dream of making it big might remain just that—a dream.

  So, why did it hurt so fucking much?

  “…the music thing…”

  Those words bothered me the most.

  I’d considered inviting Sky over to talk about it but thought better of it. She didn’t need me bringing her down, especially after the Thanksgiving we’d had. It was time that I stopped relying on Sky so much. She had her own life, her own relationship, to worry about.

  Glancing over at my guitar, I decided to silence my mind for a while with music. Scooting forward on the couch, I picked it up and strummed a few chords. I started moving my fingers over the strings as one of my favorite songs came to mind. I closed my eyes and started singing “Stealing Cars” by James Bay, releasing a little of my emotions with every word.

  When I was done, I opened my eyes again and kept playing my guitar as I hummed and searched my mind for a new tune.

  “What’s the sun without the rain?

  What is love without the pain?”

  I kept playing my guitar, hoping the next words to my song would come to me but there was nothing.

  I had stayed up most of the night, playing music but never making any progress on my song. I couldn’t stop thinking about my mom and what Natasha had said. As much as it hurt me to admit it, I’d decided she was right. I needed to start planning for the possibility that I might not have a career in music. Maybe, if I’d focused on finding a stable job earlier, I could’ve helped my mom more financially.

  Walking into the kitchen of our next remodel the following morning, I found Matteo sitting on the counter. This was the last job we had booked, and we weren’t sure when our boss would be sending us more work.

  Matteo lifted his chin in my direction as I walked in and set my toolbox on the floor. “What’s up, man? How’s your mom doing?”

  “She’s okay. At least, that’s what she tells me.”

  “Hey, let me know if I can do anything to help. If you need to take time off, I’m sure I could find someone—”

  I shook my head. “I can’t afford it. I need the money.”

  “Well, I have some good news then.”

  “Yeah?”

  “I got you another gig this Thursday night at Oceans. I know you wanted to take a break, but since we don’t have any more remodel jobs, I figured you’d want to make some money. It’s not until midnight, but you wouldn’t have to be up early the next morning, so I took it.”

  I dropped my head and stared at my boots as I considered my next move. I’d told Natasha to schedule the interview for me on Friday. I’d have to be there first thing in the morning.

  “I can’t.”

  “What? What do you mean, you can’t?”

  “I have an interview Friday morning, and I’ll need to be ready for it.”

  “An interview? Where?”

  “Grant Insurance.”

  “Grant Insurance? What the fuck are you talking about, man? You’re going to be an insurance salesman?”

  “Look, I can’t keep working these remodel jobs here and there, hoping that I’m going to become rich and famous one day. It’s not happening. I’ve been doing gigs for years. I need to get my shit together. I need to be able to support my mom. She can’t work, she’s got medical bills—”

  “So, you’re giving up? Just like that? How about all the time and effort I’ve put into everything, huh? Were you even going to discuss any of this with me?”

  “I’m not giving up, and it’s not just like that, Matteo. Do you think this is easy for me? I’ve been busting my ass, too. And I don’t need to ask for your permission. This is my life, my music!”

  Matteo and I glared at each other as we both fought to control our anger. He didn’t understand how it felt, not being able to help my mom while she suffered through cancer. I was all she had, and I was letting her down. I couldn’t even afford to take my girlfriend out to her favorite restaurants.

  “I’m not giving up. I’m only saying I can’t do that gig on Thursday.”

  Matteo hopped off the kitchen counter. “This is bullshit, man. You say you’re not giving up, but if you don’t believe this can happen, then why the hell should anyone else?”

  Before I could respond, Matteo picked up his sledgehammer and walked out of the room.

  Raking my fingers through my hair, I sighed and tilted my head back to stare at the ceiling.

  What the hell am I supposed to do?

  I closed my eyes, hoping my brother or God or someone would tell me what to do next. I wanted so badly to believe I had a chance, but I was losing faith.

  I sat in Grant Insurance’s lobby on Friday morning, feeling like a complete sellout in my old suit. Natasha had offered to buy me a new one, but I wouldn’t let her. Maybe I was being stubborn, but I had to keep some of my pride. We’d gone together to get my hair cut yesterday, and now, I was sporting a buzz cut. My hair hadn’t been this short since I was a kid. I felt like I was wearing a costume, and I couldn’t stand it. My mom would probably kill me if she knew what I was doing even if it was for her.

  Leaning back into the stiff couch, I eyed the men sitting on either side of me. They looked like they were fresh out of college. Their suits were brand-new, and their faces were still full of hope and optimism. This was an opportunity to them, not an obligation.

  A woman dressed in a pantsuit came to stand in front of the receptionist’s desk and called my name, “Mr. Frazier?”

  I stood up, carrying a folder with my résumé and references inside. “That’s me.”

  Her eyes swept over me before she gave me a professional smile. “This way, please.”

  I followed her down a long gray hallway and entered a large room with high ceilings and a wall of windows overlooking Manhattan. The
entire space was full of cubicle after cubicle, each containing a man or woman in a suit, talking on the phone or typing into his or her computer.

  “This is our main call center. This is where you’d work at first,” the woman told me as she kept walking.

  As my gaze drifted over each square, I tried to make eye contact with the people I might be working with soon. I wanted to see if they were happy. But none of them looked at me.

  Once we reached the other side of the room, she held her hand toward an open door. “Right in here,” she said.

  “Thanks.”

  Walking inside, I found an older man sitting behind a desk with a pair of reading glasses perched on the end of his nose. He peered up at me, his eyes assessing my suit, as I reached out to shake his hand.

  “Mr. Frazier, correct?”

  I sat down. “Yes, sir.”

  “Titus Hardison. You can call me Titus.”

  “Nice to meet you, Titus.”

  “So, you’re interested in becoming an insurance agent?”

  “Yes.”

  I pulled my résumé out of the folder and leaned forward to hand it to him. He took it and lifted his chin to look through his glasses while he read it. I silently sat there, watching him measure my value.

  “No college?”

  “No, sir, but I have been working full-time since I was eighteen.”

  He nodded. “I see that. I also see you’ve been a subcontractor for a while now. What’s made you want to change careers?”

  I took a second to think about my answer, fighting between the truth and what I thought he might want to hear. I decided to go with honesty.

  “Stability. I love what I do, but unfortunately, it doesn’t provide a reliable income.”

  Titus lifted his eyebrows. I couldn’t tell if he was impressed with my honesty or annoyed by it.

  “And what type of computer skills do you have?”

  “Not much, I’m afraid, but I’m a fast learner. I’m also a perfectionist, so I’d be sure the job was done correctly.”

  He examined my résumé again. “Have you ever worked in sales? Customer service?”

  “I have experience working with clients as a subcontractor but not much in sales. Unless you count the year I worked at Burger King.”