could practically feel her beaming through the phone. “I’ll get the rest of the details over to your publicist. It’s a gala, so obviously wear a gown. If you want to know the designers that are helping sponsor the event, I can let you know so you can wear one of their pieces, or wear whatever you want, but I know since it’s you they’d jump at the opportunity to dress you.”
I smiled at that. “How about you pair me up with the designer who needs the publicity the most?”
She was silent.
I waited.
“Izzy?”
She sniffed. “Sorry, I’m so hormonal. That’s really sweet, I knew I liked you. You’re perfect for him.”
I didn’t know what to say, so I just said, “Thank you. I’ll see you next week.”
“Can’t wait!”
She hung up.
And I stared at my computer and quickly wrote down what I was thinking.
Noah was my first love.
He was someone who made me think about the world differently.
Noah was my world.
Cancer consumed him the way he consumed me.
After our first date, we were inseparable. He entertained me with stories about his childhood, and the second day we were together, he told me he was going to kiss me.
His kiss felt unlike any kiss I’d ever had.
Until two days ago, when Julian Tennyson kissed me and stole the only fragment of my still-beating heart.
Love doesn’t always end with death. Sometimes, that’s where it takes root.
I was happy with what I had written, but a part of me was still conflicted, like I was writing a story that should be written with Julian. It was ridiculous. I snapped a picture and posted to Instagram, knowing that my fans would be excited. I was just about to close out the app when I noticed several hundred new comments on one of my last posts.
It was a picture of me sitting by myself smiling into a cup of coffee. The caption talked about moving on with life even though it’s difficult.
The comments, however, were scathing.
It seemed everyone was there for me when Noah was struggling, but even hinting at moving on had set people off. Comments about cheating, and it being too soon, and calling me a whore.
My stomach dropped.
I quickly set my phone down and tried to suck in some air. Why hadn’t my team told me about this?
I felt nauseated as I paced the apartment. It was like going through Noah’s struggle all over again as panic seized my lungs. I started hyperventilating and quickly moved to the kitchen to grab a paper bag.
I tried breathing into it so I wouldn’t pass out, then went in search of the Xanax my doctor had prescribed for my panic attacks.
They’d started when we were told Noah’s treatments weren’t working.
I’d had a horrible nightmare that he’d died in my arms while we were sleeping and that I never got to say goodbye.
It was always harder at night.
And rationally I knew that there was nothing different at night, just the absence of light, but for some reason that absence just reminded me that he was gone and that I was all alone, living without him.
I popped a small pill, but it did nothing to ease the anxiety twisting my stomach into knots—because if they knew about Julian, the brand that I’d built would be in jeopardy and even more so, it would impact the book.
The one thing I had promised to do.
Write our story.
And it could all go up in flames with one social media post holding Julian’s hand.
It wasn’t fair.
To either of us.
Then again, it wasn’t like it was going to go beyond just that one time, right? I gulped. The problem was that I liked him, I liked his raw honesty, his sensitivity, and the way that he made me feel when I talked about Noah. He didn’t cut me off or start talking about himself; he was eerily quiet and made me think he wanted to know more.
But we weren’t in the cabin anymore, secluded away from the real world. I mentally prepared myself for all of the media at his surprise party. I’d thank him for his help at the cabin and I’d move on.
I would not repeat the same mistake of leaning into his cologne or letting my heart slam against my chest every time he smiled at me.
I’d say happy birthday, and I’d bolt.
Perfect plan.
If only I had confidence that I could stick to it without falling for his lethal charms.
Chapter Twenty-Four
JULIAN
The city was always my favorite place at night, something about