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On the other side, I hear him let out a long, shaky breath.

And for the first time in years, I wonder if letting him go all those years ago wasn’t just his mistake—but mine too.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Camille: You had a ring.

Killion: Yes, I had a ring.

Camille: Where do we go from here, Kill? I . . . you can’t . . . I have a life.

Killion: You do.

Camille: I’m here temporarily.

Killion: Why are you here?

Camille: My company grew too fast. I couldn’t keep up with production and I need an investor. I mean, we haven’t signed the contract yet because I need to show that I’m indeed worth the money they plan on injecting.

Killion: So you still need the money for production?

Camille: I currently have a loan, but yes, I still need more.

Killion: I can invest.

Camille: I’m trying to avoid you. That would be stupid of me.

Killion: I know of a physical trainer who might be interested in investing.

Camille: Really? Who’s this made-up person, Kill?

Killion: Scottie.

Camille: Scottie is a physical trainer? Wasn’t she a soccer player?

Killion: She retired a couple of years ago. For someone who doesn’t like us, you seem to be keeping up with my family—a lot.

Camille: I don’t know your family. I don’t like you. But also, it’s hard to avoid the Crawfords. You’re everywhere.

Killion: That we are. So what do you say, can I connect you with Scottie?

Camille: Nope. That’d be too close to you.

Killion: Yeah, but wouldn’t you prefer someone who might be in this because she believes in your philosophy rather than just taking your money?

Camille: Don’t you use logic on me, Killion. I’m still angry at you.

Killion: I was a very stupid kid.

Camille: You had a ring.

Killion: I loved you and planned to spend therest of my life with you.

Camille: What was really your plan?

Killion: You could transfer to NYU or Columbia. If not, we could commute from Boston to New York. I don’t know, I thought . . . okay, I didn’t have a good plan. And maybe my father was a little right about the part that we weren’t ready for that.

Camille: We’ll never know.