Maddie looks up at me with sparkling eyes and begging for me to tell her since I usually keep our plans for our special days secret. “Hmm,” I tease her. “I’m thinking a movie, then maybe some ice cream, then the bookstore for Fancy Nancy story time.”

The look on her face makes my heart clench as she squeals with excitement. “Really?” Her voice is so high-pitched—full of emotion—that I cringe at the sound. “Story time?”

And the smile comes easily because her love of books is so my sister that I find a tinge of happiness in the fact that she is so much like her. “Yep … but I need to talk to your daddy for a minute, so why don’t you run upstairs and get your sweater in case it’s cold in the theater, okay?”

Her smile widens and then just as quickly falls, her head angling as she stares at me. “You’re not going to leave me too, are you?”

I have to fight back with every single thing within me to not break down from the pang that just debilitated me from her comment. I hear the choked sob from Danny, turning his back so that Maddie can’t see him fall apart. I steel myself, knowing I need to reassure her without my face reflecting my own heartache.

I squat down on my haunches so that I’m at her eye level, that bottom lip of hers quivering as she tries to be strong. “Oh, sweetheart,” I tell her, my voice breaking. I reach out to smooth my hand over her hair and cheek. “Your daddy and I aren’t going anywhere. I promise you. We’re Haddie Maddie,” I say, calling us the nickname that Lexi used to have for me when we were kids. The same name she chose to name her baby girl in tribute to me. “We’ve got hearts to break and high heels to wear, right?”

She angles her head and stares at me with her big chocolate brown eyes and chin quivering as she fights back the tears, trying to figure out if I’m telling the truth or not. I hold out my pinkie finger. “Promise.”

A soft smile curls up the corner of her lips as her pinkie grips onto mine. “Haddie Maddie promise,” she whispers, her smile growing wider. “Hearts and heels.”

“Always. Okay, then.” She looks at me one last time and then rushes down the hall.

I turn around once she’s gone to meet Danny’s tear-filled eyes. There is nothing I can say to him that I haven’t said before, nothing that can ease the ache in his soul, so I just shake my head and swallow through the tears in my throat. I’m gazing at a picture of Lexi and newborn Maddie when he speaks from behind me.

“You know,” he says, his voice soft and uneven, “when Lex was sick … when she was going through chemo and losing her hair … it used to drive me crazy.” He shakes his head as he remembers, and I’m trying hard to follow his train of thought—give him time to get it out—but I know Maddie will be here soon. I don’t want her to hear him talking about Lex with sadness. She’s had way too much in her short life already.

“I used to tease her that she was shedding hair like a dog. Tried to make a joke about it. Strands of it would be stuck in the couch, balled up on my shirts when they came out of the drier … the seats in the car…. It was just everywhere….” He laughs with a quiet sadness and then falls silent. I turn to face him, listening but not wanting to hear it, not wanting to remember how upset she’d get when hair would fall out clumps at a time.

He sighs, his shoulders shaking as he reins it in. “God, Had … I missed her so much the other day. Her scent’s fading from her clothes in the closet…. I … I was losing it, needing to feel connected to her.” He runs a hand through his hair and presses his fingers beneath his glasses to wipe his eyes. “And I remembered her hair being everywhere…. I was like a lunatic, searching all over this goddamn house for some of her hair. Any of it. A single strand.” He looks up and meets my eyes, disbelief warring with sorrow. “I couldn’t find any, Had.”

I breathe in a slow, measured breath, trying to control the emotional floodgates from breaking. And even if they did, I think I’m all out of tears. I’ve cried enough in the past six months that it shouldn’t be possible for me to shed more.

“For Christ’s sake, I was scraping the lint trap in the dryer to find some.” He shakes his head, tosses his glasses on the couch, and scrubs his hands over his face. The muscle in his jaw tics as I watch him struggle not to break down. “I feel like I’m going crazy here.”

I take a step toward him, a single tear dripping down my cheek, and pain in my heart. He holds his hands up to stop me, knowing damn well if I hug him, we’ll both be blubbering messes in a matter of seconds. “You should have called me. You don’t—”

“And say what, Had?” A sliver of a laugh escapes, but I can hear borderline hysteria in it. “I know you’re dying just as much without her as I am. I can’t call you every time I have a bad day … bring you down.”

The things I want to say are in my head, but I have a hard time getting them out. They choke in my throat, words cutting like razor blades. “Lexi wanted you to keep living, Danny. She wanted you to find someone eventually and move on.” My voice is soft, but I know he heard me because his body stills and his head snaps up, his eyes flash with anger.

“Never,” he says with conviction. “She was my forever, Haddie. You know that. My everything … I—I can’t even imagine anyone else.” He looks down for a minute before meeting my eyes again with absolute clarity. “No one will ever be able to fill this hole in my heart. Ever.”

Maddie’s footsteps shuffle on the floor behind me. Danny’s face and posture transform immediately, a facade of normalcy for his daughter, but the smile on his lips never reaches his eyes.

And as he holds her tight—pulling her into his chest as if he’s afraid he’s going to lose her too—my no strings affirmation is solidified.

I turn around to face the wall of pictures, unable to contain the anger burgeoning inside of me. Mad at Lex, mad at me, mad at fricking everyone.

My mind wanders to the inconclusive BRCA test result sitting on my counter at home and about how the DNA test’s lack of an answer—whether I’m carrying or not carrying the breast cancer gene—is more unsettling than settling. I need to make an appointment for a blood redraw—but the unknown is oddly more comforting than the known to me.

Fuck this. Fuck Lex for leaving me. Just fuck everything.

I suck in a breath and try to calm myself down, get a grip, and rein it all in. But it’s so incredibly hard. And when I turn around and see Maddie standing there, bouncing up and down on her toes, my anger dissipates because I know I can’t control the why or the when, but I can most definitely control the here and now.

“You ready to go have some fun, pretty girl?”

“Yes!” she says, and then pecks Danny on the cheek one more time before bounding out the door.

“Have fun,” he says with a tight smile.

“Always,” I say softly. “Hearts and heels.” I nod at him and then turn to go buckle Maddie in the car.

We head off on our once-a-week adventure, singing silly songs and chatting on the way to the movie theater, and I can’t help but glance in the rearview mirror at her more often than not.

I think of everything I need to tell her about her mommy. I remember sisterly secrets that no one knows to this day, but how I can’t wait to tell her when the time’s right or when she’s old enough. I worry whether I’ll be able to make her mom come to life enough with my words, with experiences, with laughter and love so that she feels her like I do. Like she’s still here. I then realize of course I will. I have no choice.

I’m all she has now.



Chapter 8

I look down at the picture on my iPad and laugh. Maddie has texted me a picture of Danny with barrettes and clips in his hair. At least our time together today left her in a good mood. And with a smile.

My own widens as I think of what a resilient little girl she is and the fun we had this afternoon. And I try to take the little bits of peace I found spending time with her and apply it toward fulfilling another promise I made to Lex. Making the company we were going to start together become a reality.

And not only a reality, but the best damn promotional company out there.

I’m running through details in my mind as I unbuckle my seat belt. I need my phone like I need to breathe right now. It has everything in it—my to-dos, names of the VIPs to commit to memory, the schedule of events—everything. And I need everything to make sure I pull off this first of three events for a huge potential client without any glitches.

I blow out a breath in exasperation, check the clock again to make sure time’s not standing still as I sit here waiting in the parking lot where Becks’s text indicated to meet him. But who am I kidding? It’s not that I’m pissed at the timing but more unsure what it’s going to be like between us. Awkward? Normal?

It’s a bitch when you can’t see the strings, but they’re still tying you up in their invisible web. But the bigger question is, what is wrong with me? Why do I care so much?

I’m trying to ignore the questions that are whirling in my mind on an endless reel when I look up just in time to see his SUV pull into the parking lot. “Well, hal-e-fucking-lu-jah,” I mutter, annoyed at myself for the thrill racing through me because I get to see Becks again.

And that in itself is a huge problem. But it’s a problem I don’t have time to delve into any deeper if I plan on being ready for the event and the setup on time.

He pulls up beside me and my stomach flip-flops when I look over at him through our car windows. His head is angled down, looking at something in his lap, wraparound sunglasses covering his eyes, and I study the line of his profile as I wait for him to look over at me. Finally, he finishes whatever he’s concentrating on in his lap and glances my way before getting out.

My heart quickens as I exit my car, and fuck me sideways because I don’t want it to quicken. And I don’t want that sudden ache between my thighs.

I walk to the back of our cars just as he does. And of course his presence—the sight of him, the scent of his cologne, that easy way he moves—has every one of my senses on high alert. He leans his shoulder against the back of his car, arms folded across his chest and my cell phone fisted in his hand. His eyes are hidden behind his tinted lenses, but I can feel them scrape their way over my body, despite his impassive expression.

He purses his lips as we stand in a silent standoff, each of us trying to figure out how the other is going to react. And the problem is, I’m supposed to be unaffected by him, but hell if my eyes don’t keep wandering to that mouth of his, thinking of the incredible things it is capable of doing.

Suck it up, Had. It was a one-off thing. Time to be a big girl and lock and load the chastity belt.

“Hey, there.”

“Haddie.” He nods his head at me and says nothing further. This behavior is so unlike the Becks I know that I’m at a loss trying to figure out how to play this. I’m sure he has questions about Dante answering the phone, but in all reality, it’s none of his damn business. If it makes anyone look bad, then it’s me, and frankly that might be for the best in order for him to knock this shit off.

Whatever.

I hold his phone out to him, and he takes it, his fingers grazing over mine—that cataclysmic current shocking up my arm at his touch. I pull back immediately and curse myself for it because it’s impossible for him not to notice my reaction. And my curse is also for being affected once again by the one person I don’t want to be affected by. More than that, though, is the fact that Becks has refolded his arms across his chest and has still not given me back my phone. Or shown the slightest reaction to our connection. What the hell?

“Are you pissed at me?”

He looks at me a moment longer, head angled to the side. “Nope,” he says as he pushes off the car and stands to full height. “I just have to keep repeating them in my head.”

What? I’m lost here. “Repeating what in your head?”

“My rules.” One side of his lips curl up, a smarmy smirk playing over his mouth. I want to tell him to take his sunglasses off so I can look in his eyes, so I can see that easy-go-lucky Becks I know, not this arrogant, closed-off guy standing in front of me. I shake my head because I’ve never seen this side of him, and, well, it’s kind of hot.

Damn it! Just what I don’t need to be thinking right now. Don’t need to be seeing right now: Becks in this light.