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My breath catches, and I start crying. It’s the first time I’ve cried in years, and as the tears pour out of me, I pound my fists into the mattress, and I can hear myself wailing.

I take a few deep breaths, wipe my eyes, and look down at the photo.

“When you died, I lost a part of me. I didn’t know if I’d ever laugh again. I certainly never thought I’d fall in love. And then Rosie came along with her plan. I don’t know if she’s a witch or what because she’s got me under her spell. And I’m so fucking scared because I don’t know what to do. I want the world for her, and it’s all so complicated. I wish you were here, Charlie. I wish we could go for a drink and you could tell me it’s all going to work out, like you always did. I wish it had worked out for you.”

I wipe my face with the back of my hand.

“She’s got a show tonight. An NBC audition. And if she does well, maybe she’ll move to LA and have this huge career. She’ll be rich and famous, and she’ll take over the world. And I want that for her—I really do. But we both know LA’s not for me, and fame and money are the last things I want. But I love her, and I want her to have it all.”

I can’t tell her I love her. The thought hits hard—because I know if I do, I’ll be holding her back from the future she deserves.

I swallow hard. “I’m going to go, but I’m not going to tell her. I’m going because I can’t not go. I can’t not support her. Why is life so complicated? Charlie, I’ve never told anyone this, but I’ve felt so alone since you’ve been gone. I love Dalton, and I love Roman, and they’re good friends to me, but it’s not like it was with you. You were my best friend, man. My absolute best friend. And I almost feel guilty that a piece of my heart has been filled by Rosie. She’s all goodness. She’s kind and sweet, and I don’t deserve her. But I’ll support her.” I let out a breath. “For the first time in a really long time, I feel alive, Charlie.”

I stand up and set the photo on top of the nightstand.

“I miss you, man. I miss you so fucking much. But I’ve got to get ready. I’m going to watch my girl kill it at the comedy show tonight. And when she does, I’m going to let her go. Because when you love someone, you want what’s best for them. I want her to thrive. I love her enough to want her to succeed and not hold her back.”

I smile at the photo. “I’m sorry I kept you hidden in the drawer, man. I didn’t mean to leave you in the dark. But Rosie brought the light back into my life, and I can look at you now without the pain. I can look at you and feel the love we had. And you know what? Even if that’s the only love I get to keep for the rest of my life, that’s okay.”

Chapter Twenty-One

ROSIE

“No pressure, Rosie. You can do this.” Marcus squeezes my shoulders. “I know you’re going to kill it.”

He is such a nice man, and I know it, but more than a nice man, I want a good man. And I know Brett is that good man.

“Thanks,” I say, peeking out at the crowd.

Sage, Izzy, Lucia, and Roman are sitting at the front, but Brett isn’t there.

He didn’t come.

My heart sinks. I shouldn’t have expected him to be here. He has his own life. He has other things to worry about. And maybe he doesn’t want me becoming dependent on him.

“You okay? You totally zoned out,” Marcus says.

I nod. “I’m good. Thank you. I really appreciate this opportunity, and I appreciate you putting my name forward. And I wanted to say sorry that we didn’t go on another date and that I never got back to you.”

“Hey, it’s okay. I thought you were really cute, and, yeah, I would’ve loved to take you out again. But if you weren’t feeling it, you weren’t feeling it.”

“You’re a really nice guy.”

“I try my best. But you know what they say—nice guys finish last.”

“That’s not true.”

“It is,” he says. “But that’s okay. You’ve got this, okay? The NBC people are here, and I know they’re looking forward to your set.”

“You just made me nervous again,” I admit, and he chuckles.

“Kill it, kid.”

He walks away, and I watch him go up to the microphone and do his bit. I take a few deep breaths.

You cannot get upset because Brett isn’t here, I lecture myself. He has a life. He has other things going on. He’s your friend with benefits. He’s not your husband. He’s not your man. He’s not really your fiancé.

“You okay? Are you going crazy?” Patrice’s voice comes from behind me.