“You look like you’re in physical pain,” Ethan says, sitting on the bed across from me. It doesn’t escape me that unlike all the men I’ve ever known, he doesn’t appear annoyed that I’m slowing us down.

“I am.”

“What’s happened?”

I pass him my phone so he can read Leigh’s draft. “I don’t know what to do.”

He reads the statement and then looks at me. “You have no gut instinct on this?”

“Oh, I do, but it’s probably not the right instinct.”

“What’s it telling you?”

The violence that crawled under my skin yesterday blazes to life. “Well, first, I want to go clothes shopping and buy all the kinds of clothes I want that Tucker never let me wear. And then, I want to take a photo of myself wearing something from my shopping spree and post it on Instagram with the caption ‘Fuck you, Tucker.’”

The look on his face says he’d be my collaborator on this. “Is there a middle finger involved in this photo?”

The violence under my skin says fuck yes, but I waver on this. “I don’t know ...”

He stands and lifts his chin at me. “Okay, let’s go.”

I blink. “No ...god, no. That was just me being angry.”

“No, that was your gut speaking. You’re putting that wig on and I’m taking you shopping. We can leave the fuck-you-Tucker photo out of this, but let’s see how you feel after shopping.”

I stand, every inch of my skin desperate to follow his lead while my brain does everything in her power to put forth reasons why this is a very bad idea. “We don’t have time for shopping, Ethan. Not if you want to get to Louisville by five.”

“We can arrive at midnight for all I care. I was thinking about you when I planned for a five o’clock arrival.”

“Huh? Why?”

“I wanted you to be there in time for dinner and an early bedtime. I think you probably need some kind of routine you can count on right now. Three square meals a day and decent sleep is a good start.”

“You really are the most thoughtful guy I’ve ever met,” I murmur.

“No, it’s just what you do for people who are going through something.”

I shake my head. “It’s not. It’s really not what most people do. Especially not for someone they just met. I hope you know how special you are.”

Ethan doesn’t reply to that, but I think he appreciates what I just said. I wonder if anyone has ever told him how special he is.

He starts issuing bossy orders like, “Move your ass, Miller, we’ve got shopping to do,” and forty minutes later, I’ve got the brunette wig on that Leigh packed and we’re walking into a shopping mall.

I’m not even feeling a little bit nervous about being seen. Not anymore. Something shifted in me yesterday when Tucker wished me good fucking luck. I think I was hiding because I was filled with shame over running out on him the way I did. I no longer feel that way. Not when I was the only one who showed up honestly for most of our relationship. I’m not the one who should be feeling shame.

Let the world see me now. I have nothing to hide from.

I put the wig on though. For security purposes. I don’t want to put Ethan or myself in a situation that could get out of control.

“Right,” Ethan says while surveying the racks of clothing in front of us. “What are we looking for?”

I smile up at him. “Do you enjoy shopping?”

“Generally, not with women.”

“But you’re taking one for the team today.”

“Yeah.” He smiles down at me and doesn’t look even the slightest bit like he wishes he was somewhere else.