Page 62 of When Stars Fall

“You’re right. I don’t. But you know what I’ve figured out over the last couple of days? You still have feelings for me. Whatever they are, they’re there. When we make eye contact, when we brush against each other, when we’re in the same room—we’re alive. So if it makes you feel better, you can tell me we’re done. We both realize that’s not true.” I climb out of the car and slam the door.

I storm up to my room, taking the stairs two and three at a time. Once I’m there, I grab the first bottle out of the minibar. I snap the top off and pour it down the drain. I toss the empty bottle into the garbage can and grab the next one.

Ellie’s not getting rid of me. I’m getting my last day with her even if I have to go to her house and stand at the gates until she lets me in. Last time, I wasn’t persistent enough. This time, I’m not walking away.

There’s something going on that I don’t understand. And I’m gonna crack that too. I twist the cap off the bottle in my hand and stare at myself in the mirror.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Ellie

Present Day

I curl up in my bed, and I wish Haven was home. Nights like these, when I can’t sleep, I crawl into bed with her. Something about the steady rhythm of her breathing always lulls me to sleep. Nothing is working tonight.

Frustrated, I climb out of bed and pad to the kitchen for a drink of water. My normal phone is charged on the counter, and I turn it on. There’s nothing else to do this late at night, so I might as well see what’s going on in the world.

My mind flicks to my ex-boyfriend’s earlier text on my private phone. I didn’t even look at his message before I turned it off. We haven’t spoken in months. Whatever he has to say can wait for another day. Not right now.

Out of habit, I’ve navigated to Wyatt’s Twitter feed. An hour ago, he tweeted:Listening to Alicia Keys’ “If I Ain’t Got You” on repeat. Thinking, wishing, wondering.Wyatt’s alone in his hotel room, just as lost as me.

I was so close to telling him earlier. So close. He’s not using anymore. I’m almost positive. Anna, though. She and her son are complications I didn’t see coming. If she’s worse than she used to be, putting Haven in that household is wrong. Irresponsible. Her behavior is exactly what I’ve been trying to avoid for the last nine years. Haven could have her father’s addictive personality. Living with, being around someone who is an active user is extremely risky.

Isaac spiraled and hit bottom, never to emerge again. Wyatt spent years telling me his problem wasn’t a problem at all. Anna’s decline makes her one more person who’s lost themselves to drugs. If Haven goes down their path, I’ll scrutinize this moment and my wrong decision forever. My choice might be the difference between a healthy life for her or picking up the pieces if she becomes an addict. Once Wyatt knows she’s his, there’s no backtracking.

My brain isn’t going to quiet.I pick up my phone and dial Nikki’s number. When Nikki answers, I don’t waste any time. She sounds wide awake anyway. “Can I come over?”

“Are you listening to Alicia Keys on repeat too?”

“I’m not the only one Twitter-stalking Wyatt?” My voice is light, but my insides are heavy. I dig my nail under a piece of paint on the counter. One of Haven’s art projects left a little behind. Life is rarely neat and tidy.

“You didn’t tell him?”

“He told me some things, and now the situation seems more complicated. Maybe dangerous.”

Once she agrees to let me crash at hers, I throw a change of clothes into a bag and hustle out of the house to my car. When I arrive at Nikki’s, the door is unlocked.

I drop my bag in the entryway, round the couch, and collapse next to her. It’s three in the morning, but Nikki looks like she never went to bed.

“Did Matt get ahold of you?” Nikki scrolls through Wyatt’s Twitter feed.

Pictures, articles, and other reminders of the past fly by. He certainly stirred up a shitstorm with that interview. He’s also retweeting the nonsense. Stoking the fire. And he says he’d have no problem quitting.

“Earth to Ellie.” Nikki waves her hand in front of my face.

“What?” I blink at her.

“Matt. He called me to get in touch with you. He said you weren’t answering your phone. I tried to call you. No answer.”

My phone is off because Wyatt and I were talking earlier, and I didn’t want any distractions. I rummage around in my purse until I find my second phone and wait for the home screen to load. At the flood of notifications, my heart starts to race. I have a lot of voice mails. Holding up a finger to Nikki, I take a seat at her kitchen table so I can concentrate.

“Ellie—it’s Matt. I had a phone call from one of those shitty tabloids snooping into your life. I think, well . . . I think Wyatt has created a problem. Call me.”

I delete the message. Tabloids cold call people acquainted with me. They offer a lot of money to entice someone to say something, anything they can spin into a story. Of course they’re going to contact Matt and anyone else who might talk now that Wyatt has made a spectacle of my life. The next message starts to play.

“Ellie—it’s Calshae. There are reporters at the hotel. I—I . . . things are blowing up.” There’s a long pause. “The one at the concierge desk asked about Haven. We’re locking things down here, but I thought you’d want to know.”

My heart booms in my chest. Sweat breaks out under my armpits. Nikki is staring at me, but I can’t look at her. Why did I turn off my phone? How do I stop this? I delete her message and start the next one, pressing a hand over my heart. I’m about to have a heart attack at thirty-four.

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