“I can’t promise anything except that I’ll try.” His fingertip brushes my cold cheek.

The situation between us isn’t perfect, but it’s as perfect as we’re going to get. And I’m not ready to let him go.

“Is it my turn to ask a question yet?”

He smiles, but I know it might not be there long. “Go for it.”

“Who’s Alyssa?”

As soon as the words leave my mouth, I regret them. Not just because I’m afraid of the answer, but his reaction too. Under the lights of the ferris wheel, his skin pales. His eyes flick from the sky back to his hands, and when I think I might be shunned from the truth again, two shaky words leave his lips. “My wife.”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN WIFE?” My voice vibrates with anger and confusion.

“Lila—”

“No. No. No. Don’t you dare step around this one. How the hell can you sit up here with me, telling me all these lies, when you’re married? Tell me how the fuck that works, Blake.”

He’s quiet longer than is tolerable. If we weren’t up here, he’d be running away just like he always does. It’s probably killing him that he can’t.

“Blake.”

He slams his hand down on the metal bar meant to keep us safe. “Why do you always have to push, huh? Does constantly digging into my failures make you happy? What the fuck do you want from me?”

I flinch, scooting to the edge of the seat. “I didn’t think asking the guy who kind of admitted he had feelings for me earlier about his wife was an issue. If it is, I want off. Now!”

“Lower us!” Blake yells over the side.

My stomach drops. My heart aches. Every thread of hope is lost. If I’m smart, I won’t grab at it the next time it’s dangled in front of me.

Our cab rocks at the bottom, and as soon as the metal bar is loose, I stumble out. I don’t stop there, walking as fast as my shaky legs will carry me. Blake made his choice . . . his last choice.

“Lila!”

I speed up, eyes locked on a taxi parked along the street.

“I met her my first year of college.”

His words stop me. The taxi speeds away.

“She was majoring in literature, me in art. We were so young, maybe too young, but we made it through four years. When I asked her to marry me, I did it because I couldn’t imagine what a day would be like without her.”

When he’s quiet for a few seconds, I turn around, wondering if he’s still there. He is, and he looks so freaking wounded that I feel like the villain. “So what happened?” I ask, feeling there’s got to be more to the story.

“I failed.”

“At what?”

He shrugs. “Everything.”

My heart’s not just sinking . . . it’s lying at my feet. There’s not much I can say to that. “Is that why you don’t do relationships?”

“It’s why I don’t do a lot of things.”

A cool breeze blows between us. Nighttime out here is as quiet as it is dark. It’s been a long day—for both of us—and though there’s so much more I want to know, I’ve had enough. Emotionally spent doesn’t even begin to describe it.

“I think we should go,” I finally say, pulling my jacket tighter around my body.

He walks to me slowly like he’s not quite sure what to expect. His eyes glisten under the moonlight. “Let’s find a cab.”

Without a single word, I walk by his side. We exist, but not together, and all I want to do is make us better.

On a late, cold Chicago night, there’s not much competition at the pier. He hails the first cab that roars down the street, holding the door for me to slide in first. I focus my attention out the window, at the streetlights. I wonder what she’s like—does he compare me to her? Does he ever think about her when he’s buried inside of me? And how is Pierce connected to all this? Was he with her too?

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “Tonight wasn’t supposed to end this way.”

“I’m sorry, too.”

It’s my last night at Charlie’s. I thought I’d struggle to get there, to finish out my last night, but I’m feeling a bit nostalgic. Charlie’s welcomed me to Chicago even if it wasn’t always in the best way. It’s where I met Dana, who has quickly become one of my best friends.

It’s also the last time I’ll make this walk between my apartment and the small line of shops I’ve come to love. I know I’ll still make it up here from time to time, but it won’t be like this.

Pulling my coat tighter around my body, I speed up my pace, eager to escape the cold. My thoughts shift back to last night. It was late when we got back from the pier, and after the ups and downs—the apologies and revelations—I was exhausted. I still don’t know everything, but what he told me was enough to scare me into thinking I may not want to know more. And beyond that, I’m pissed that he kept this from me for so long. He owed me the truth. Especially one that big.

Blake wasn’t home when I woke up this morning. I’d assumed he was at the studio, or doing whatever he does when he disappears. And after what he confessed, I wish I could do the same. Disappear and forget. I wish I could unhear everything he told me, but I need to face the facts.

Blake has a wife he’s made no mention of. He’s taken me, and other women, to his bed without blinking. I pushed him for more information on the way home, but he stopped me. Said we would talk about it later.

Now, here I am—wondering.

Opening the door to Charlie’s, I notice the crowded bar and rowdy college students packed around tables. The college jerks are the one thing I definitely won’t miss.

“Lila!” Dana practically runs up to me, wrapping her arms tightly around my neck.

“Hey.” I hug her back. “Ready to rock this place for my last night?”

She pulls back, holding my forearms. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay? It won’t be the same.” She sticks out her lower lip like a child.

“If Pierce fires me, I might not have a choice.” I’m still worried about how things might change. How will everything that happened in New York affect what I worked so hard for? He’s a man of integrity, but he’s already broken a few rules when it comes to me. What will he think of me if I end up with Blake?

“I’m catching the hint of a juicy story. Go clock in, and we’ll talk about it between tables.”

“I’m going to miss this,” I admit as I walk to the back to hang my coat and punch the clock. I jump right into the swing of things—grabbing drinks for a couple groups that walked in.

When Dana and I finally have a couple minutes of downtime, she begins her usual line of questioning. “Now, why would Pierce even think about firing you?”

“New York was . . . interesting.”

She raises her brow. “Keep going.”

“He kissed me.”

Her brows shoot even higher. “And, what? You’re a horrible kisser? I’m still not following.”

“We ended up in his room, and naked in his bed,” I answer, tracing the rounded wood grain on the bar top—anything to avoid seeing her reaction.

“Holy shit! You fucked your boss? I didn’t know you had it in you . . . no pun intended.”

“I didn’t sleep with him!” I try to keep my voice down, but it’s hard when I’m wound up.

When I glance back over at her, she’s smiling. “Say you didn’t fuck him.”

I roll my eyes, sick of being talked to like this. “I didn’t fuck him.”

“How far did it go then?” I narrow my eyes at her. She continues, “If I’m going to help you out, I have to know.”

I move closer to whisper in her ear. “His head was between my legs.”

“Oh God, so what happened?”

After looking around to make sure no one’s listening, I tell her the rest—about how I’d imagined Blake, about the awkwardness that followed, and our dealings with Wade.

When I’d first met Dana, I never imagined my life would be of any entertainment to her. It’s amazing how fast things change.