I swallowed, watching him come over to me.

  He approached, his hands in front of his waist, and that’s when I finally took a second to take him in.

  He looked damn worried.

  “I got her in,” he said. “I got her safe, but she looked very upset.”

  The elevator’s ding drummed in my ear. The doors open and I stepped inside. With a nod, I thanked Chuck for what he’d done, but then I had to go. I had to find her.

  Upstairs was quiet. Too quiet. In fact, if Chuck hadn’t told me he brought her in, I would have guessed otherwise.

  “Roxie?” I called, setting my keys down on the end table by the door. I swallowed once again, the large ball caught up in my throat making it hard.

  I tried our bedroom first, pushing the door open to an empty room. She wasn’t there, but a light under our bathroom door told me she wasn’t far. I went there to that door, the room silent.

  Until it wasn’t.

  A clear whimpering could be heard, sniffling, and it became more and more audible the closer I got to the door.

  Closing my eyes, I placed my hand on the knob, but a tug let me know she’d locked it. She locked herself away from me again.

  I placed my hand on the door. “Roxie? Roxie baby, can you let me in?”

  Nothing but quiet met me on the other side, silence except for that gentle whimper. Except for her tears.

  I bent to my knees, peering through the keyhole at the knob. I could see her but barely, her hands covered her face, curled up in the littlest ball on the floor.

  Goddammit.

  Rising, I was two seconds from breaking the damn door in. I had to, to get to her, and I would have if not for her voice. It was so small, but I heard it. I listened for it as it always gave me life.

  “Griffin, don’t come in,” she said, like she knew. Of course she knew. “Please don’t.”

  The muscles in my arms seized up, and shaking so bad, I had to tighten my fists. I put them on the door gently, the only way to keep myself from acting. I rested my forehead there too, trying to make myself breathe, to keep from rushing in, and respect her wishes. That didn’t mean I couldn’t talk her into changing her mind. And so, I tried again.

  “Baby,” I started, but I stopped. I had to breathe again. I had to get it together. “I need you to let me in. Please don’t shut me out. Please.”

  More soft crying trickled through the air, more soft tears, and I got to my knees once more. She was shaking too through the keyhole, but she wasn’t making any moves toward the door.

  “They know about it, Griffin,” she whispered, her voice so small. Her small hands squeezed the air against her chest, into small fists. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how they know. I’m sorry.”

  “No, baby.” Goddammit. I shook my own fists, trying to maintain control. “Don’t apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “I’ve ruined you,” she said behind her hair splayed across the floor. “I’ve ruined us.”

  All this… All this and she was thinking about me.

  I moved closer to the door, placing my hand there. “Roxie, listen to me. What happened… is the last thing on my mind right now. You know none of that matters to me. You know me.”

  We’d had this talk before. She knew. She knew she was the only thing that mattered. She’s the person who only ever mattered.

  Because she made it all worthwhile.

  “But you’ve been making sacrifices,” she continued, sniffing. “You don’t go out. You watch over me when you should be out with your team. Partying and enjoying your career. You’ve given up so much to be with me. Sacrifices always for me.”

  And they were ones I’d gladly make. She was making them for me too. “They’ve never been sacrifices. You’re the one who’s paid the price. Always.”

  I thought about that price, all she really had given up for me. She had a life before me. She had plans and she dropped them to come here. She dropped them only to be subjected to the shit in my life. She’d made far more sacrifices than I ever could make. I knew because of the toll they were taking on her now.

  I lowered, watching her through the keyhole again. She’d closed her eyes in the time I’d been outside the door, the tears dripping over her brown cheeks. I rested my head on the door.

  “So forget about all that, okay?” I told her, pleading with her. “All that bullshit out there? It doesn’t matter. What matters now is you and me.”

  I swallowed, my voice anything but calm, but shit, was I making the effort for it to sound that way. “We’re going to go away, all right? Just you and me. We’re going to work through everything. Whatever we need to do, we’ll do it. I need you healthy, Roxie. I need you better.”

  Because she had to be. She had to for me to ever be. Basketball was my dream.

  But Roxie was my dream too.

  She sniffed through the door, and I was met with more tears, more silence.

  “I can’t,” she said, and the ache in those words ripped through me like a jagged blade. “I’m sorry. But I can’t.”

  And so, I closed my eyes, preparing for what I had to do next.

  No, I’m sorry, baby. So sorry.

  Standing up, I leaned against the door, bracing the knob.

  It only took two shoves.

  The door caved and I held on, ignoring the burn in my arm as I opened the door. The frame splintered, broken wood at the lock, and I pushed the door until I could see her. She leaned up on her arm, tears down her cheeks, and I came over to her, dropping to my knees.

  She wouldn’t even look at me, her gaze drifting to the floor, and I grabbed her before she could make it back there. She was shaking, quivering, and I wrapped her up, sitting on the floor with her in my lap.

  “I told you not to come in,” she whispered, her fingers curling against my chest, but she didn’t push me away. She held on and that told me what she said didn’t mean what she actually wanted.

  Holding onto her myself, I kissed brow, pushing away her tears with my fingers. I wanted to do what she said, but I just couldn’t.

  I’d never abandon her again.

  I showered with her that night, the warm water covering us both. I washed away her tears and then some, holding her long after they’d gone. I wanted to get her to eat after that, but like before on the island she wouldn’t comply. I could handle that though. That was something I could endure. But what I couldn’t was her silence. She wouldn’t speak to me, not all, and when I put her to bed, her silence solidified a quiet night. I wouldn’t regret what I did though. I couldn’t let her stay in the bathroom all night, all alone and upset. That’s just something I couldn’t do.

  The condo suddenly feeling hollow, lifeless, I searched through the night on the computer. I told Roxie I’d take her away, so that’s what I planned. My Internet searches found us a plan. She needed to be away for a little while, and once we came back…

  I was taking this step-by-step.

  I must have only closed my eyes for a moment, nodded off and rested my head on the table beside my laptop. But my burning eyes told me that moment had been longer than I estimated. I opened them, turning my head.

  Roxie.

  Getting up, I headed toward the bedroom and an open door I thought I’d closed behind me, had my heart skyrocketing into my throat.

  I went inside, rubbing my sore arm from the night before, and a made bed revealed my greatest fear.

  She was gone.

  I searched the condo, pretty much knowing I wouldn’t find her. Call it a feeling, but that didn’t stop me. I grabbed my cell phone on the second rotation. I had five missed calls. Two from Mickey and three from Rich, but I didn’t grab the phone to check that. I dialed Roxie’s number, hoping things would be different this time. That she’d answer. That she’d let me in instead of running, which she had been known to do in the past, but I got nothing as the phone to my ear rang and rang.

  Nothing.

  I called again, heading to the bathroom. She didn’t answer and the only thing keeping me from destroying my phone in frustration was the possibility she may call me later on it.

  Instead, I set it on the sink, gripping it before turning on the knobs and dousing some water on my face. I looked up to the mirror, the droplets sliding down over lids that covered nothing but red eyes and dark circles underneath them.

  I splashed my face one more time, taking a towel to pat down what remained. My shirt flapped when I grabbed it, the mirror showing a folded up piece of paper that had somehow been slipped inside my shirt pocket.

  How had I not seen that?

  I pulled the paper out in a frenzy, unfolding. I scanned it, but found myself in the same place before reading it. She’d given me so little, only two words.

  “I’m sorry,” the note said, and I read it again, front and back just to make sure.

  Sorry. She was sorry. For what? And that’s when I made another call.

  “Clare?” I asked. I hadn’t even waited for the hello. The ringing stopped so I assumed it was her.

  “Griffin?” she said, the tone edging in a question. “Heya. What’s up?” She must have assumed it was me too.

  “Have you heard from Roxie? Is she with you?” I didn’t bother beating around the bush. She might have contacted her as she was her best friend, and because of the fact, she might have sought her out if she needed to get away.

  “Umm… no. Why would she be with me? What’s going on?”

  Clare didn’t know it, but she just killed my heart for the umpteenth time in twenty-four hours. I didn’t know that was possible, for the heart to be broken even more than once in such a short amount of time. Turned out, I was doing the impossible today.

  Letting out a breath, I explained to Clare the reason for the call, and now, I wasn’t the only one worried. She quickly got off the line with me, saying she’d try Roxie herself, and while she did, I went for my own sources. I started with Troy. She’d gotten close to him, but that one ended the same way as Clare.

  “I’m so sorry, Mr. Chandler,” he’d said. “I haven’t spoken to Roxie since her dress fitting, but I’ll try on my end.”

  I had Mickey in my ear next.

  “Thank god you called,” he said, breathing into the phone. “How are you doing this morning, champ? Roxie?”

  I was happy for his concern, but I didn’t have time to go over all the crap from yesterday, with the media and what not. I really didn’t care about that. I had to find Roxie.

  “Things have been better,” I told him. “But I can’t really talk about that right now. It’s Roxie. She’s missing.”

  “Missing?”

  I nodded like he could see. “I woke up this morning and couldn’t find her. I’ve called, but she’s not picking up, so I’m trying to reach all her friends. She got really close to Kerry Donovan, but I don’t have her number.”

  I figured he might be able to help me out. Maybe with the connections he had. Turned out, we had a like mind because I didn’t even need to ask for the favor. He was off the phone within the next breath. And maybe, two minutes later I had a number to Kendrick Donovan’s house.

  “Thank you,” I breathed, grateful to my agent. “Thank you so much.”

  “No problem, my friend. Good luck and let me know if anything changes. And don’t worry about the press. Rich has ideas for damage control. We’re taking care of this.”

  Again, I never felt more appreciative. I had Kerry Donovan in my ear after that, and what little hope I had left, went with her.

  “No, I haven’t heard from her, Griffin,” she said, and I heard a sigh, silence right after. “That poor thing. This is such a mess.”

  She didn’t know the half of it. This went so far past Roxie’s videos coming out. It was her well-being, both mentally and physically, that concerned me first and foremost. She was out there, in Miami by herself.

  Feeling the way she does about herself…

  She didn’t need to be alone right now. That’s the last thing she needed, and I felt so helpless, stuck here with nothing but the unknown on my mind.

  “She has been working out with the girls,” Kerry continued. “Sam and Eddie.”

  I’d forgotten she’d referenced them before, and so I regained some hope.

  “I’ll give each of them a call,” she said, my savior in more ways than she knew. “After I do, I’ll ring you back.”

  “Thank you.” I truly didn’t have words.

  “Of course. We’re with you, Griffin. We’re with her.”

  Traveling the length of the condo, I made more calls, Karen, Hayden’s wife, and Gram and Aunt Robin as she’d made connections with all of them. But who couldn’t love Roxie? Who couldn’t love her as she was so warm and kind. With them, I kept the inquiry lighter though. I didn’t want to worry them. I couldn’t have them feeling like I did. Like the world was tilting. Like I couldn’t breathe. Casually, I simply asked if they’d heard from her, making up some silly excuse that I was at the store and she told me to grab something for her but wasn’t picking up in the moment. They laughed our phone tag off like I hoped they wouldn’t. Someone needed to laugh. Someone. They hadn’t heard from her, but losing hope wasn’t happening.

  It was all I had.

  I heard back from Kerry first, and even still, that hoped remained. Even after she told me Sam and Eddie had both led to dead ends. Even after Troy had called only moments later telling me he tried her, telling me he’d also been without luck. I held hope even through all that. I always would.

  Clare called while I was on the balcony, phone in hand while I stared out into the city. Like I could see her from even up here.

  “I’m sorry, Griffin,” she started.

  You can’t lose it. You have to hold faith.

  “She hasn’t called any of us,” she continued. “No one from the team. I called them all and nothing.”

  Not one of them. Not one. If not them, then who? Why wouldn’t she go to any of us?

  Why wouldn’t she stay with me?

  I rubbed my eyes, regulated my breathing. It’s the only thing I could do. The only thing that allowed me to keep it straight, keep it together.

  “What do we do?” was Clare’s next question, and I didn’t have answers for her. Roxie could quite literally be anywhere. And if she didn’t want to be found…

  I let out a breath. “We’ll keep trying. We gotta keep trying.” I knew Clare was with me on this and would be there for the long haul.

  “She didn’t leave a note or anything? At least so we don’t think the worst.”

  I pulled that very note out of my pocket, the words burned into my mind like branding. Unfolding it, the paper flapped in the wind of the forty-third floor.

  “She did, but it wasn’t much.” Her only indicator. Two words. “It says ‘I’m sorry.’ She left it in my shirt pocket while I was sleeping.”

  “‘I’m sorry’?”

  Letting out a breath, I nodded to no one. “I told you it won’t do us much good—”

  “Griffin, you don’t think that’s a…” She didn’t finish. She didn’t finish, and I didn’t know how I knew. Where she was going with that, her thought process…

  Oh, god no.

  “That note. You don’t…” Clare paused and her breathing shallowed. It was breathy just like mine. “It’s just, you know, with her mom? What happened to her… What she did…”

  Her mom. Her mom had killed herself. She had killed herself, as she’d been the victim of depression.

  I had the police on the phone in the next second.

  Two days. It’d been two days in which I hadn’t eaten, hadn’t slept, and two days since I’d seen her, held her.

  It’d been two days since I knew she was safe.

  Gram was here now, but she wasn’t the only one to come down. I wouldn’t let my brothers or Karen come, my dad. They needed to stay at home. Someone had to be there. She might go there for some reason and I couldn’t take the risk her arriving to an empty place.

  I couldn’t stop my Gram from flying to Miami though, nor my Aunt Robin. Aunt Robin stayed busy vacuuming or cleaning, her way of helping, and my Gram either stayed nearby or was in the kitchen, cooking me something like she was now.

  We all had our ways of trying to help.

  What made me feel shitty was I couldn’t eat whatever she brought out, but the reason had nothing to do with lack of hunger. Everything tasted dry these days, bitter and tasteless. I had no appetite, and even if I did, I couldn’t stomach anything. I learned that right away, within the first twenty-four hours of Roxie missing.

  Two days. Two days…

  She hadn’t taken anything with her, her things mocking me here as if she’d come back. I only had been in our closet once, getting a pair of jeans, before I decided to just use what I had lying around. I couldn’t look at her stuff, her jerseys I had made for her. The one saying Super Girl, the other Roxie Elbowa…

  It was just too hard.

  The police started work within the first twenty-fours of a call, the urgency I knew good and well only had to do with my celebrity status. I didn’t care because at that moment I’d thank the world for small favors. I’d take them greedily to make sure she was safe.

  While they investigated, I called in my own favors, Mickey doing duel control. He kept things quiet, kept the media in the dark about Roxie’s disappearance alongside Rich, while at the same time scanned my accounts. We needed activity, anything, any indicator she was using them. If she was using them that meant…

  That meant the note she left wasn’t what Clare thought it was. It meant my greatest fear didn’t come true.

  But we saw nothing, not blip, and the only thing that kept me sane through all this? Kept me moving? Was some minor activity that first day, the day she went missing. She’d withdrawn some money from her personal savings account, the one she’d kept after we’d gotten together. She had made me a beneficiary when we combined our accounts, so I’d been able to see what she took. It was less than a thousand dollars, but she did do it. That had to mean something. That had to mean she didn’t give up.

  Please don’t give up on yourself. Please.