DRAFTED MESSAGE: I sent you flowers and an apology note. Then I walked upstairs and noticed you’d cut the flowers and the note within minutes of receiving them...

  DRAFTED MESSAGE: Hayley, I’m sorry.

  SENT MESSAGE: Hayley, I’m beyond sorry for the way I talked to you. Please let me explain.

  HAYLEY: TODAY

  (Present Day)

  San Francisco, California

  “IT’S OKAY, HAYLEY.” Kelly handed me a Kleenex as I leaned against her shoulder in the executive lounge. “It’s okay to cry about Corey.”

  “I’m not crying about him, Kelly.” I felt tears falling down my face. “I’m not crying about him at all. I’m crying about the new Starbucks in the lobby. Why can’t they make good drinks?”

  She handed me another Kleenex and took my phone, preventing me from texting Corey back for another day.

  I remained in denial for weeks, purposely avoiding any activities outside of my office so no one would have to see how puffy and red my face was. I did my best to keep myself busy and became the type of stellar employee that everyone else hated. I was two hours early, and I stayed three hours late.

  I went above and beyond, doing things Jonathan didn’t even ask me to do.

  The Cybersecurity department no longer existed to me, and I never showed up to any meeting Corey hosted. Occasionally, our eyes would meet in the hallway, but I wouldn’t let my gaze linger on his for long.

  It was time for me to start over, again.

  COREY: TODAY

  (Present Day)

  San Francisco, California

  SENT MESSAGE: Hayley, can you please pick up one of my calls? Just one?

  SENT MESSAGE: I’ve called you twenty times today...

  SENT MESSAGE: Can you please just let me explain why I came to your house and had to do that?

  SENT MESSAGE: Should I start sending coffee instead of flowers so you won’t cut the shit up?

  HAYLEY: TODAY

  (Present Day)

  San Francisco, California

  I HIT PLAY ON TODAY’S bank of text messages from Corey and crossed my arms as they came through the speakers.

  “Hayley, please call me back.” Beep!

  “Hayley, please pick up. At least call me back.” Beep!

  “Hayley, I definitely have feelings for you, and I didn’t mean any of what I said to you that night. You have to believe me. I’m not sure if you remember your first night yet, but what I said when I took you back to your suite after the rooftop party? That was true, even though I denied it for the first few weeks when you came to stay with me. I also want you to know that I’m not going to stop calling you, texting you, or sending you flowers until you talk to me. Please just talk to me...” Beep!

  His name suddenly came across my screen for the tenth time today via phone call, but I still couldn’t bring myself to answer. There was no excuse for what he’d said to me, and for all his talk about “rules,” he still had a lot to learn about mutual respect.

  “Very fun...”

  I turned off my phone and slipped into my shower, letting the hot streams sting my skin until I couldn’t feel them anymore. I put on a T-shirt and jeans, and then I texted Greg and told him I was ready to be picked up for Jonathan’s wedding rehearsal.

  I braced myself for seeing Corey there—hoping like hell he wouldn’t make a scene in front of everyone. Hoping like hell he would just leave me alone.

  “Good evening, Miss Statham.” Greg opened the door for me.

  “Good evening, Greg.”

  “You’re the last one to schedule a pick-up. Is that a coincidence?”

  “Not at all.” I looked out the window. “Is Mr. Walters already there?”

  “Mr. Walters is no longer a part of your brother’s wedding.”

  What? “Why?”

  “Surely you know the answer to that, Miss Statham.” His eyes met mine in the rearview mirror, and my heart sank.

  Jonathan knew about us?

  I sat still in the backseat until we arrived at the wedding venue, and I didn’t even wait for Greg to open the backdoor for me. I stepped out and walked inside, spotting Jonathan surrounded by the other bridesmaids.

  I didn’t say hello or reintroduce myself to anyone. I walked right up to him and grabbed his hand, pulling him down the hall and into an empty room.

  “Well, hello to you as well, Hayley.” He looked concerned. “Is something wrong?”

  “Corey dumped me out of the blue a few weeks ago,” I said. “Did you have anything to do with that?”

  “I don’t understand the question.”

  “Did you have anything to do with Corey breaking up with me?” I raised my voice. “Was that clear enough?”

  “If you mean, did I save you a world of heartache and trouble down the line, then yes. Yes, I did.”

  “I slept with him.”

  He clenched his jaw.

  “Multiple times.”

  “Hayley...”

  “He was my first.”

  “Okay, Hayley.” He looked angrier than I’d ever seen him before. “Would you like to talk about this like an adult?”

  “You tell me.”

  He sighed and paced the room. “Walk me through this from your point of view.”

  “So you can yell at me?”

  “So I can decide if I still want to kill him or not.”

  “I have feelings for Corey, Jonathan.”

  “Then why are you crying? This isn’t helping his case.”

  “For five minutes, can you just pretend that you’re not my older brother?” I shook my head. “Like, act as if I’m just your close friend who wants to cry on your shoulder?”

  His expression immediately softened, and he walked over to me, pulling me close.

  As his arms tightened around me, I realized I couldn’t hold back anymore.

  “Corey is my best friend, too,” I said crying. “And despite the years we didn’t talk, I still loved him. I just didn’t know that at the time, but I know it now.”

  He blinked. “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying I love him, Jonathan. It wasn’t—it wasn’t what you think it is, I swear.”

  He pulled a handkerchief from his suit and wiped my tears. He rubbed my back, eventually calming me down enough to speak coherently again.

  Leading me over to a couch, he took a seat next to me and sighed. “I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions.”

  “I’m sorry for not telling you about us sooner.”

  “No,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s actually good that you didn’t. I don’t think I would’ve handled that well.”

  “Did you really put him out of your wedding?”

  “Let’s not talk about me,” he said, wiping my face again. “You think you’re in love with him?”

  “No, I know.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because he’s the only guy I’ve thought about since the day we met.”

  He raised his eyebrow, looking completely stunned. “Come again?”

  “I think I’ve been in love with him since you left Ohio for Harvard. Well, after we got to know each other, but you get the point.”

  He still looked stunned.

  “Claire said that I probably didn’t realize that I loved him back then.”

  “Claire knew about this shit?” He narrowed his eyes.

  “Jonathan!”

  “Okay, fine.” He held up his hands. “Continue.”

  “He was my first kiss, and I think I loved him then. But when we fell apart I just never really thought about it, until I saw him again. Not that it matters now, but you should know that he didn’t make me do anything I didn’t want to do and he treated me better than any guy I’ve ever dated.”

  “Did he tell you about his own past regarding his dating life?”

  “He did.” I nodded. “I know how he used to be.”

  “Used to be...” He said the words as if he only halfway believed them. “Is he the reason why you were so happy over the past few months?”

  “Yes.” I smiled for a split second. “Definitely.”

  He sighed and stood up. “Can we discuss the rest of this over dinner, after the rehearsal?”

  “Sure. Why do we need to leave now?”

  “Because I just remembered him telling me a story about a certain woman he saw recently and a grey couch.” He looked at the color of the couch we were sitting on. “And my mind is completely fucking with me right now, so if it’s okay with you I’d rather not think about—”

  “Absolutely.” I held back a laugh and followed him out into the hallway.

  “For the record though,” he said, crossing his arms. “Claire knew about this shit?”

  HAYLEY: TODAY

  (Present Day)

  San Francisco, California

  COREY’S NAME CROSSED my phone’s screen on Saturday for the umpteenth time, but I still couldn’t bring myself to answer his call. Even though I’d squared things away with Jonathan—somewhat, I was pissed that Corey had chosen to throw away the start of what we had over a threat from my brother. That he’d once again denied our relationship a chance because of what someone else had said.

  I would’ve picked us in that ultimatum scenario, Corey. YOU should’ve picked us.

  My doorbell rang and I grabbed my scissors, ready to cut up another bouquet of his flowers, but when I opened the door, my mother was standing there.

  Dressed in an off-white suit, her hair was pulled into a low ponytail, and her blue and grey irises were a carbon copy of mine.

  “Is it National Mothers Who Abandoned Their Daughters for Dealing Meth Day?” I asked. “Or is it Mothers Who Missed Their Daughters Lives and Suddenly Want to be a Part of it Day? They’re so similar, you know?”

  She sighed. “I know I’m the last person you want to talk to right now.”

  “Actually, you’re the second to last. Someone else is currently sitting in your spot.”

  A slight smile crossed her lips, but she didn’t let it stay. “I see you and Jonathan both got my sarcasm.”

  “Too bad we didn’t get your time.”

  “I’m so sorry, Hayley.”

  I didn’t respond.

  Frowning, she opened her purse and pulled out a huge manila folder. She unfastened the flap and pulled out a stack of worn envelopes.

  “I want you to know that I wrote you back every single time,” she said, handing me the stack. “Sometimes I’d draft ten letters, but I just...” She sighed and wiped tears as they fell down her face. “Well, one, I honestly couldn’t afford the stamps to mail you any letters back. I went to prison with nothing but the clothes on my back and nothing in my commissary account. Two, I didn’t think you would believe that I was sorry, and at the time, I really wasn’t. I was embarrassed, but I hadn’t learned my lesson yet.” She looked into my eyes. “It took me six years to qualify for a prison job, and another full year after that to get one. But by the time I got enough to pay for the stamps, you’d stopped writing. And then Jonathan told me that you didn’t want to hear from me at all, that after you moved in with him, you refused to even come to the phone when I called.”

  Warm tears fell down my face.

  She looked at the scars that remained on my arms and her voice began to crack. “I know I’m responsible for those, for how they started. I’m sorry you were cutting yourself to deal with the pain of losing me and your dad to prison, and I’m sorry I wasn’t there for everything I should’ve been there for regarding your dreams.”

  I stood still and she stepped forward and rubbed her hand against my faded scars.

  “I kept these letters all these years because I wanted you to know that I did write back, and I loved you despite not loving myself. I know you don’t owe me anything, but I would really appreciate it if you let me show you that I deserve a second chance.”

  I stared at her, unable to get a word to fall from my lips.

  “I want to be the mother you deserve, Hayley,” she said, grabbing my hand and squeezing it. “I hope I’m not too late.”

  I still couldn’t speak. I stared at the letters I thought she’d ignored, letting teardrops fall against the envelopes.

  She let go of my hand and moved closer, hugging me for the first time in years.

  Unable to resist, I hugged her back—refusing to let go, refusing to go another day without knowing what a hug from my mom felt like.

  She continued to apologize in soft words to me, and we remained entwined and in tears until the sun set.

  When she finally pulled away from me, she kissed my forehead. “I know it’s going to take time for you to completely forgive me for making bad decisions with meth in the past, for choosing it over you again and again, and missing most of your life due to prison. But, I want you to know that I’m willing to work hard to regain your trust, and I would like to try to establish a fresh start whenever you’re ready.”

  I nodded. “Okay. I can try.”

  She kissed my forehead again. “I’ll see you at the wedding, okay? And I’ll still send flowers until you call and want to sit down, too.”

  I smiled. “Okay.” I stepped forward and gave her one last hug, and then I watched her walk away and slip behind the wheel of her car.

  Once she’d steered her car off my street, I walked inside and headed to the kitchen. Sitting at the breakfast bar, I opened the top envelope. It was a short letter from me in pink ink, and she’d enclosed her response in black.

  DEAR MOMMY,

  I miss you. I hope you come home soon. I still don’t like my current foster dad. His house smells like cat piss and the basement gives me nightmares.

  I’m praying you get to break out by Christmas so we can have hot chocolate together.

  Okay.

  Write me back.

  Your daughter,

  Hayley

  PS—CAN YOU KEEP A SECRET? Even though I hate all the boys at my school, I think I like Corey. He’s older, and he’s John’s best friend...But I really like him. A LOT.

  PSS—Please write me back

  DEAR HAYLEY,

  I miss you more. One day I’ll spend the rest of my life making this up to you, I promise.

  I’m sorry you don’t like your foster family and the house smells like cat piss. If it makes you feel any better, my place always smells like dog poop. (Way worse than cat piss.) Be sure to tell the case worker you don’t like it, so she can move you.

  I can’t break out by this Christmas, but we will finally spend a Christmas together when I get out. I promise. And I’ll make you all the hot chocolate you want.

  Love,

  Mommy

  PS—Yes, I can keep a secret. I won’t tell anyone about your friend Corey. He sounds sweet and I can’t wait to meet him. Stay close to him so that can happen, okay?

  I READ THROUGH EACH of the letters I’d sent, crying and laughing my way through each of the one hundred and seventy-six responses I’d never received.

  By the time I finished the last set, it was midnight and Corey’s name was calling my phone again.

  Hitting ignore, I poured myself a cup of cranberry and vodka. I debated calling him back just to tell him about what had happened between me and my mom, but as I sipped the drink—the same drink I’d had all night at the rooftop party, I started remembering exactly what had happened after the moments he’d described in that email.

  HAYLEY: YESTERDAY

  (The Night of the Party)

  San Francisco, California

  “DON’T SIT UP YET,” A deep male voice was behind me. “Just wait until you’re one hundred percent done, Hayley.”

  I opened my eyes and tried to make sense of what was happening. A cool cloth was dabbing my mouth every few seconds, and I was sitting in the passenger seat of a car with the door wide open. My hands were on my stomach, and someone was holding my hair behind my head.

  I looked down at the black asphalt ahead and coughed.

  Is that vomit?

  I slowly lifted my head, and the stranger behind me let my hair go. He stepped out of the car and popped the trunk, stepping in front of me with a cleaning kit. He bent between my legs and wiped the floor, keeping his eyes on mine the whole time.

  Corey?

  “Is this a dream?” I asked. "Or is this really happening?"

  “It looks like it's really happening, unfortunately.”

  “Since when do you live in Seattle?”

  “Come again?”

  “When did you move to Seattle?” I asked. “And why am I in your car?”

  “Jesus...” He muttered under his breath. Then he stood up and pressed his hand against my forehead. “Do you have any idea how much you drank tonight?”

  “I don't remember drinking anything. I was drinking?”

  He sighed and gently moved my legs into the car. He returned to the driver’s seat and cranked the engine, pulling off onto what looked like a San Francisco highway.

  He turned off on the first exit ramp and pulled into a gas station. “Wait here.”

  I watched him walk inside. Then I picked my purse up from the floor. I fumbled for my phone, but the battery was dead.

  Okay. Think, Hayley. Think.

  My mind was blank. I couldn’t remember anything, about tonight, the past few hours. But I did remember a few things about this week.

  You called Jonathan and ask him to bring you to San Francisco. You chicken.

  I sighed and leaned against the door, looking at Corey as he stood at the counter. I knew I had to be having a dream because this version of Corey was sexy as hell, and far from the chubby boy I once knew, the one who thought ripped jeans and T-shirts was couture.

  “Here.” He returned to the car and handed me a paper bag and a cup of coffee.

  Inside the bag were bottles of water, a bag of chips, Skittles, and a chocolate bar.