iller

of our penthouse, the glittering lights of Manhattan spread out below me like a carpet of fallen star

all came crashing down on me. I pulled my knees to my chest, wrapping my arms around them, and the tears I had refused to shed

I didn't know why I was doing it, what I even hoped to accomplish. I just needed to hear a

ght years. It rang. And rang. I was about to hang up, chalking

It was deep and warm, s

came out. Only a choked sob, a

of the line. Then, the voice, clear

va

omfort and a fresh stab of pain. Liam knew my voice because he had spent countless nights on the phone with me in college,

ssibly gentle, "Hey. You remember sophomore year, when we drank so much coffee

e through my grief. A small, watery lau

. "But it sounds like you need a stupid joke, no

er me, a feeling of being accepted without question, something I hadn't realized I was starving for. At the same time, a wav

one grew serious. "I have to be in New York for a business trip

nly a second. "Ok

d open. Ethan was home. He walked in, reeking of alcohol an

d up on the sofa, my face stained wi

y into the phone, and hung up

old, hard chips of ice, filled with a look of possessi

ate?" His voice was low, not wi

lock. The screen was still lit up, displaying the recen

Wal