Page 123 of Play Book

No matter what my father, or anyone else thinks, I have to be here for her. I have to take care of her.

Even though it’s going to mean making a lot of sacrifices.

For now, Ally has to be my priority.

She has to come first.

Because she never has.

Holding Ally as she sobs against my chest, my heart splinters.

Deep down, I know I’m going to have to do something I don’t want to do.

The only question is whether or not Saylor will wait.

Can she give me six months to get Ally on an even keel?

I don’t know what else to do.

The only other option is saying goodbye for good, and I don’t know if I’m strong enough to do that.

THIRTY-SIX

Saylor

My surprise retirement breakfast leaves me feeling both grateful and frustrated. The girls did an amazing job with it, bringing in friends and people I’ve worked with since the beginning of my career, and making it a memorable morning. There’s laughter, tears, and good food, but through it all, I can’t help but notice what’s missing.

Canyon.

And he hasn’t called either, even though I know his flight landed hours ago.

Once again, I’m an afterthought.

I don’t know whether to laugh or cry, but I’m trying to give him the benefit of the doubt. I know he’s dealing with a lot, but is it so hard to send me a text to update me? To keep me in the loop?

How the hell are we going to have a relationship if we don’t communicate?

Of course, I’m a bit guilty of that too since I haven’t told him the extent of my stalker situation. In my case, though, I’m just trying to lighten his load. In his case, he just doesn’t think like a guy in a relationship.

Which is frustrating to me.

I thought we’d made progress, but apparently not.

And now I’m going to have to think long and hard about the future.

Since brunch ended by noon, we decide to head over to Stevie’s brownstone and get a head start on packing and preparing for her to sell it. Stevie’s a nervous wreck, so it takes all of us to get her through the front door. She freezes when she steps inside, immediately looking to the staircase that her ex had pushed her over.

“It’s just like we left it,” she whispers, swallowing hard.

“It’s just four walls,” Chey says, squeezing her arm. “This house can’t hurt you. We’re going to pack your stuff, and you don’t ever have to come back here, but you know you’re not leaving all your Jimmy Choos behind.”

Stevie manages a shaky smile at the mention of her favorite shoes. “No, I’m definitely not.”

“Let’s start in the bedroom,” Harper suggests. “Clothes, shoes, and any personal items.”

“I’ll empty the fridge,” I say, heading in the opposite direction.

“I’ll come with you,” Chey says, following me.

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