“I think so too … anyway, I’m going to come see you, and you’ll come back and visit.”

“You better,” I reply.

Gretchen laughs and grabs my hand. “Let’s go, I gotta pay Ashton’s insane tab.”

We head back out to the seating area and get Ashton. When I turn around to leave, I stop dead in my tracks. Across the room is the figure of a man I’d know anywhere.

“Oh my God!” I grab Ashton’s arm and pull her down.

“What?” she asks looking around to find whatever I’m hiding from.

I keep my head low and try to point to the man making out with the blond from the bathroom. “Look, it’s Neil.”

She looks and when she spots him, her hand clasps over her mouth and she starts laughing. “Funny, that’s not his slut of a girlfriend.”

I sit there shell shocked watching him with another woman—who is not Piper. Then it clicks when I see her profile. She’s the reporter, Linda, from Raven’s press conference. It seems Neil has moved on to one of Piper’s friends. My lips turn up at this very interesting turn of events. “Well, this is quite entertaining,” I laugh and Ashton snorts.

Pulling my phone out, I snap a few photos of the happy couple. When he turns his head I have the perfect shot.

We sneak out and catch up with Gretchen, showing her the photos. “Well, if the dickface decides to come after you again, we have leverage.” She winks at me.

Who thought we’d be here laughing at the fact that he’s once again kissing someone else and I had to see it. Last time it destroyed my world, this time I couldn’t care less. He has no hold on me and it feels fantastic.

Stick that in your pipe and smoke it, Neil.

I head home as Ash and Gretch continue to another bar. As much as I’d love to go to sleep there’s one task I need to handle before I collapse. I need to hire an assistant before I get on that plane. Grabbing the folder of resumes, I thumb for the one I set up to speak to today.

I grab my phone and call. “Hi, is Tristan there?” I ask into the receiver as I walk around my empty room.

Thankfully, this is the last of the interviews I need to do over the phone before I arrive in California. Tristan is the one candidate I’m most excited about interviewing. He has some executive assistant experience along with acting and public speaking.

“This is.” His deep voice is gruff and sexy.

Well, hello there. Now that’s a voice I could listen to all day.

“This is Catherine Pope from CJJ Public Relations. We emailed and I informed you I’d be calling regarding your application for the assistant position.”

“Yes, hi!” Tristan exclaims as he perks up a bit. “I’m very excited about the office opening and was waiting for your call.”

“Your resume was great and I’d like to go over a few things.” I grab my notepad and sit on the floor. “Is now a good time?”

“Yes, Ms. Pope. Definitely.” Tristan’s voice is warm yet rough. It reminds me of another man, but I shut that thought process down quickly.

“Can you tell me a bit about yourself and why you’re looking to make a move?”

Tristan and I spend almost an hour going over the job, expectations, and possibilities the company has for him. I have a great feeling about him. He’s easygoing, articulate, and has a good background for the job. Honestly, he’d be fabulous as a publicist, but for now he’d like to learn as much as he can from me. As long as his references check out, I’ll have myself an assistant.

Feeling good about where we leave off, I lie in my bed hoping I can fall asleep, mentally running over the goodbye with my mother tomorrow and the last minute stuff at my dad’s house.

Today is the memorial. The day I’ll say farewell to two men. One man who meant the world to many. A father, a hero, a husband, and a friend who died leaving a gaping hole in so many people’s hearts.

The other is a man who left a hole in my heart.

I hate this dress.

I hate this day.

I hate the makeup I’m not able to wear because I can’t stop crying.

I woke up this morning a mess. The idea of having to see him has been too much. I received a package last night of more lilies, and this time I allowed myself to open the card and read it.

I’ve never cried so hard in my entire life, but there’s no going back in time.

After my heart was already completely ripped from my chest, I grabbed the other notes he sent with the gifts to my office. I figure I’ll get it all done in one fell swoop and allow the pain to take over so I can get it out.

Dear Catherine,

Today, I hate myself. I don’t deserve you. It’s been less than twenty-four hours since I last held you. One day, and I feel worse than I ever have. I saw this lighthouse and thought of you. It reminded me of the magic we shared up there. How you made me want to live again. You give me that. I’ll tell you everything, just give me a chance.

All of my heart and soul,

Jackson

The tears stream and I sob, but Ashton ignores the sounds of my breakdown if she hears me. I open the next card that came with the Battleship game.

Dear Catherine,

I’ve lost track of the times I’ve picked up the phone. I can’t sleep in our bed. Everything in this fucking house reminds me of us. Be my anchor, Catherine. I hate myself. I hate what I’ve done to us. Call me and we can work through it. My heart is yours. It’s up to you if it sinks.

All of me,

Jackson

There’s no changing the fact that I’m leaving for California in four days. I want to forgive him, to run back to his arms, but it doesn’t erase the doubt and the three thousand miles that are about to be between us. I know I should stop myself from reading the rest of the notes, but I owe him.

My Catherine,

Love notes are dumb but I should’ve written them to you. Then you’d have known what was inside of me the entire time. You wouldn’t have questioned anything because it would be there in black and white. My proof to you when you felt doubt and you’d know how much you mean to me. I don’t even know if you read these but if you do … I miss you. I went to work today and everyone asked about you. I broke two things because I was fucking mad. I’m mad now too. If you love me, how can you walk away so easily? Don’t answer that. I’m pretty sure I’m talking to myself. I talked to Mark and my mother today, told them about what happened. I’m sure you can imagine the things I heard. But one thing my mom said that stuck:

“Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers a multitude of sins.” – Peter 4:18

I love you deeply. I love you with every breath I take. I’ve made mistakes. I’ve fucked up. I know this, but love me.

Don’t give up on us.

Jackson

My eyes are puffy, my heart is heavy, and the idea of seeing him has made me sick. I allow myself to read the final letter one more time.

Dear Catherine,

I know now it’s over. I know you don’t want to talk to me, or hear my side and I respect your decision. I hate it, but I can’t push you anymore. I know I hurt you. I don’t know how to live without trying to win you back. I can’t think. I can’t sleep. I hurt so fucking much, Catherine. Every day I look at this godforsaken apartment and I want to sell it and move—but then I’ll have lost the only thing I have of you. You were the only woman to ever sleep in this bed. You were the only woman to touch this house. Nothing here matters because you’re gone. I’d go back in time and tell you everything. But I can’t do that. I can’t fix this and it’s killing me. I call and you don’t answer. I text and you won’t respond. I can’t fix this without you. I meant every word I ever said to you. I love you and I’ll love you until my last breath.