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“I said I don’t want to talk about it, and then you throw it in my face,” I gasp, my body trembling as a part of my heart that I let Cas touch begins to crumble.

“I didn’t bring it up to hurt you. I’m trying to get it through your head how much I care about you, Vivienne.” He sighs, struggling to find the words he’s searching for. “I’ve never been this obsessed with someone. I’ve never cared about anyone but myself. But when I saw what happened all over the news, the media—before I even got a courtesy call—something changed for me. I never want to be thousands of miles away when you need me.”

“We barely know each other. How long has it been since your concert? Do you even know?” My voice is icy as I narrow my eyes at him.

“It’s been a little over four months, but exactly 133 days.” His voice is smug.

“In those 133 days, so many bad things have happened. I’m not ready for this. I never wanted this. You deserve someone who also knows how many days it’s been since we met. Truth be told, that will never be me.” I blink back tears.

“Don’t do this, Vivienne. You’re emotional and traumatized.” Cas tries to rationalize with me.

“I think you should go, Cas. I’m too emotional. Don’t worry—despite being traumatized, I’ll keep our secrets. I need space. I need to grieve… alone. I’m safe now. The only threat to my safety at events is from your fans. They won’t have a reason to hate me so much they come into my community to harm me anymore. You won’t have to worry about me at all.”

“Wait, what?” He stammers. “Is that what happened? One of my fans came for you? What did they say? How do you know?”

“You’re smart, Cas. I’m sure you can figure it out.” I’m pushing him away for his own good, and even though it hurts, I’m certain he deserves better than me.

“Is that what you want? I’ll be on the road for the next eight weeks straight.” He swallows, and his Adam’s apple bobs like he has a lump in his throat.

It only makes me feel worse. “Yeah. I’m sure. I’m finishing my schedule and spending the holidays with Roxy.”

He stands, giving me one last, long look. “This isn’t over. I won’t let you run from me. But I do respect you asking me to leave. I’m going to give you space for as long as I can.” Cas walks to my side of the bed, tilts my chin to look at him as he towers over me. “You’re mine, Vivienne Taylor.”

He kisses me hard, then rests his head against mine. “I’ll be back to collect what’s mine.” His lips find mine again, then he walks out of my room, leaving me all alone with nothing but my thoughts.

My breath catches as my heart flutters back to life. I almost call Cas back. I watch him linger at the door as if he’s hesitating, hoping I’ll change my mind. Watching him walk away is devastating. But it’s for the greater good. I have to do this, not just for me—for both of us.

Chapter twenty-seven

Walking away from her has to be the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Standing under the glow of stage lights in front of thousands of people—no problem. But respecting Vivienne’s request for space? Gut-wrenching. It might just destroy me. I’ve sent her a long-stemmed rose and a card every day since I’ve been gone.

Nothing I do results in a response from her. My daily texts remain read and unanswered. I watch her every day on the cameras the security company installed inside. My obsession only seems to grow. I can’t stand the days when she’s gone because I’m not able to see how she’s truly coping. In thebeginning, I was worried, but Roxy refused to let her slip into a dark hole. I’m thankful she has her. That they have each other. There’s no way Vivienne would be doing as well as she is now without her best friend. For the most part, her life has gone back to normal, and I hate that I’m not there. I have no time between shows to sneak away. Watching is the only way I can stay connected without breaking my promise to give her space.

Her reactions are what keep me going. At first, she threw the roses in the trash and ripped up the cards without reading them. After about a week, she started holding them to her nose, closing her eyes, and smelling them. She’d lay each one on the counter where they’d basically die. The following week, she ordered a vase and began collecting them in it. She’d smell the rose, read the card, then place it in the vase in the center of the kitchen island. Eventually, she started keeping the cards in a kitchen drawer, tossing them in instead of throwing them away. I see the way she smiles when she reads them. A few times, I’ve accidentally made her cry. It’s obvious she still has feelings for me.

Each night, she falls asleep in the hoodie I left there. It’s never been washed. Every morning is the same routine; she wakes up around eight, unless my broken little muse smashes the snooze button. I’ve found our time difference makes sending a message around seven-thirty her time and nine-thirty mine the sweet spot. It doesn’t wake her, but it’s always waiting when she picks up her phone off the charger. I keep my messages simple. A good morning and well wishes for the day. She doesn’t respond back, and I don’t push. I keep waiting for the day she decides to either reply or block my number.

The fact that she hasn’t blocked me yet is a good sign the space between us is only for work. At least that’s how I choose to see it. I genuinely know she misses me, which is why I’m planning something big for the end of her tour. At every signing, I’ve made sure to send her and Roxy a card, a bottle of champagne to celebrate, and meals so I can keep my girl going when she’s running on empty.

When I found out Roxy was unexpectedly staying behind in Florida to spend time with her grandparents for Christmas, I decided I had to save the holidays. What could possibly be more perfect than spending them together in New York City? A few weeks of magical holiday spirit gives me just enough time to make her fall in love with me again. She loved me once before—now she just needs to remember. It will all lead up to singing the song I wrote for her on New Year’s Eve in the middle of Times Square.

I shift in my seat as the car rounds the corner near the convention center where her last show is ending in Orlando. I’m done watching. Tonight I’m making good on my promise to collect what’s mine. In a few short minutes, I’ll be whisking her off to keep all to myself for the next three weeks. I’ve been counting down the days until I can hold her in my arms again. My body aches to feel her melting into me as I tangle my fingers in her long blonde hair while kissing every inch of her perfect body. More than anything, I crave the sound of her voice. I need her to speak to me. I thought the silent treatment would end after a few weeks, but it stretched on and on until it almost felt normal.

My driver comes to a stop in front of the convention center. “Call or text me when you’re ready to be picked up.”

“Okay, thanks,” I say, climbing out, not waiting for him to open the door.

My convention pass hangs around my neck. I’m nervous to try and get in an hour before the show closes, but they scan me in, and my entrance goes smoothly. I weave my way through the dwindling crowds of people. Exhausted con-goers trudge past me, focused on making their way to the exit. So far, no one has realized I’m here.

It doesn’t take me long to find where she’s signing. It’s one of the booths that still has a line. I had my people arrange with her handler to get me in as the last person in her line. As I step into place at the end of her line, I nod at them. They close it behind me. After weeks of plotting, everything’s going exactly as planned.

I keep my head tucked low and pretend to be super interested in my phone like the other people. It takes well over thirty minutes until I’m the only person left. She hasn’t looked up to notice me yet. Thankfully, Roxy is digging in a box on the ground because I haven’t stopped staring at Vivienne, desperate to see her reaction. The wait is agonizing, but when she finally sees me, it’s all the confirmation I need.

Vivienne looks up, completely unsuspecting. “Hi, thanks for wait—“

Her words trail off, and her face falls. She fights back a smile as a dusting of pink blush creeps across her cheeks. I flash her a toothy smile, knowing she doesn’t stand a chance resisting it. Pretending to check the time on my watch, I say, “Your tour’s over. It’s time to come with me.”

She frowns. Roxy elbows her. Annoyed, Vivienne rolls her eyes with a sigh. “Cas, what do you mean? You can’t just show up to collect me.”