Page 4 of When Stars Fall

Jackson’s right about one thing: Ellie will not take this well.

Chapter Three

Ellie

Present Day

My Google Alerts tell me Wyatt’s onThe Jackson Billows Showto promote his latest movie. Every time I try to convince myself it’s normal to have an alert on for my former boyfriend from ten years ago, I realize I sound crazy. I avoid analyzing it. I don’t follow him on social media, so the notifications are it. #Wyllie will never make a return.

While I fold laundry, I flip to the right station and dial my sister. She’ll still be awake. As a real estate agent, she keeps the weirdest hours of anyone I know.

Nikki doesn’t say hello like a normal person; instead, she says, “I hope you had a good flight. You’re not watchingThe Jackson Billows Show. Please tell me you’ve turned off the TV.”

“My flight was fine,” I say. “It’s idle curiosity.” I tuck the phone between my ear and neck. Calling her was a bad idea.

“You call it curiosity, I call it obsession.” Nikki’s voice is tight with disapproval.

“Tomayto, tomahto. How’s Haven?”

“She’s sleeping. All okay. Want me to drop her off after school tomorrow?”

“Do you mind?” I finish the last piece of folding. Wyatt struts onto the stage, and I realize my screen needs to be bigger. So much bigger. “Oh,” I breathe.

“I’ll let you go.” Nikki sighs.

Without comment, I hang up and circle the couch to get comfortable. In these moments, when I’m transfixed and hungry for the sight of him, a little voice in my head tells me something isn’t quite right. Ten years and just a glimpse of him on a television is enough to scrape off the scab, leaving behind raw, tender skin. His effect on me is a burn that won’t heal.

Since I left Wyatt ten years ago, acting is a job now, not a lifestyle. I’ve built a better, more stable life without him, and seeing him shouldn’t cause nostalgia for what once was. We were bad for each other—or maybe he was bad for me . . . but in any event, we didn’t work, couldn’t work.

He takes his seat and I smother the urge to lean forward. I don’t see his movies—I’m not interested in pretend-Wyatt—but I canneverresist his interviews. If I still did drugs, he’d be crack.

They banter about Wyatt’s race-car movie. When Wyatt turns on the charm, he is breathtaking. Jackson shuffles the cue cards on his desk after the brief movie clip plays. A nervous habit. I’ve been a guest on his show enough times to recognize the pattern. I narrow my eyes. He and Wyatt are genuine friends, so his nerves make no sense.

Wyatt appears sober, which is a delightful change. Sober Wyatt wasn’t someone I saw very often, but he’d spent years balancing his moods with drugs before we met. Another ten years since to hone his skills toappearsober.

His suit fits him like a glove, and seeing him so together stirs long-buried desires. My eyes travel the length of his body, taking in his dark hair, broad shoulders, and narrow hips. When he gestures to Jackson, his biceps flex under the suit coat. He looks good—too good.

No.No.No. If I saw him in person, I’d run the other way. I’ve been turning away with military precision for ten years. Sober, witty Wyatt in a nice suit can’t change the past, the choices we made.

Jackson squares his shoulders and grins. Wyatt tugs at the neck of his shirt. It’s brief, but noticeable. I sit forward. Another nervous habit. There’s a vibe between them that I’ve never seen before.

“Are you single right now?” Jackson’s inquiry is a softball. “Anyone special in your life?”

The crowd goes wild, and I cringe. I hate that question—for him, for me.

“You know,” Wyatt says, “I’ve been thinking a lot about old flames still flickering.” He winks at the camera.

Jackson laughs. “Old flames. Give us a hint?”

Wyatt opens his jacket and leans against the couch, throwing an arm over the back. Confidence blasts from him like a siren’s call. My ship longs to steer toward him.

“Have you got a photo, Jackson? Help a guy out?”

Jackson rotates in his chair and a familiar photograph of the two of us pops up behind him.

There’s an explosion in the crowd. My heart threatens to gallop away.

What is he doing?

---