Page 73 of Love: Take Two

"Once this is all resolved, maybe we can try again. For now, though, this is best."

"You're right," I admit resigned. "The press is already calling this production cursed. I doubt it could survive a full-on scandal."

"Yeah," she agrees, but she seems as down as I am.

"Anyway, I better let you get in contact with Yong-rae. He's expecting your call."

When she hangs up, I realize I'm blinking back tears. Once again, Awa and I are over before we really got started. I hope she can at least save my client's career, even if it means there's no future forus.

Chapter thirty-seven

Noah

By the time I get home, I'm a zombie. I don't even remember speaking to Carl when he let me in; I'll have to buy him a bottle of something nice as an apology.

This is best.

Awa's words echo in my mind the entire ride up in the elevator, as I push leftover quinoa salad into my mouth, tasting nothing, and even through my scalding hot shower. I want to wash off the bad memories of the last few hours, take my mind off what feels like a gaping chest wound.

It doesn't work. Neither do the three shots of whiskey I drink back to back, nor the half a joint Damon left the last time he was here.

This is best.

I clench my jaw. I suspect nothing will erase those words from my head, or the hard truth that saving the deal of alifetime, holding onto a client that could be a marquee name by this time next year, and who just so happens to be a decent human being, might mean giving up the love of my life.And I never even got to tell her.

The walls of my bedroom spin, and I list to the side, knocking over my bedside lamp before collapsing onto the rumpled sheets.

"Oops," I snicker, and I sound like a lunatic, cracking up at a joke no one told. I guessI'mthe joke.

Fortunately, there's no one around to hear me. No one to judge when the heartbreak and alcohol make me a little loopy.No one to love and come home to after a day so bad, I may never recover.

I scoff, disgusted with how sappy the liquor's made me. I can do this. I can doalone. I've been alone for years. Sure, there were always people around. People who were down for drinks or clubbing or free tickets to whatever blockbuster was premiering that night. But they weren'twithme. No one was. Not since Awa first looked at me with her deep almond eyes and told me that she felt it too, that connection our first night together.

I thought I had time. Time to fuck around, have fun, chase my goals. I assumed the right woman would find me when I was ready, unaware the right woman already had. But I wasn't ready. Fuck, I don't know if I'm ready now, but I wanted to try. Did I miss my chance?

I lie back frustrated, staring at the city lights dancing across my ceiling.

Fingers crossed it's not over. We can wait until the dust settles, see if there's anuson the other side of all of this. We found each other again nearly two decades later. That must mean something, right?

Brrrring! Brrrring! Brrrring!

I wince. Thanks to my new obnoxious ringtone—I can't afford to miss any calls from the studio, my partners, or Yong-rae—my head feels like it's splitting open.My hangover didn't even have the decency to wait until morning, I grumble.

Just as I flip the phone to see who's calling, a text comes in.

Dad

Dad:Come to Elias Wallace Medical Center now. Your mother collapsed.

"Room 1642," the receptionist mumbles without looking up. "Turn right when you exit the elevator, and walk until the signs turn fuchsia. That's the cardiac ward."

I gulp. Mom collapsed, and now she's in the cardiac ward?

I ride the elevator to the sixteenth floor, turn left and walk what feels like half a mile until I reach Room 1642. Someonescrawled Mom's name in blue marker on the dry-erase board by the door, which is closed.

Marie Park

What do I do now? Do I just go in, or—?