Chapter 2

The next morning, I start packing.

I don’t have that much stuff at Gray’s place.

Clothes. Shoes. My laptop. About a million sketchbooks.

I’m clearing out the bottom drawer when I find the little emotion book I made for him.

I haven’t seen it in months.

I flip it open.

Red means angry.

Blue means sad.

Yellow means happy.

Gray means tired.

There are little drawings next to everything because I’m a children’s book illustrator and apparently I can’t help myself.

Gray used to like it.

Then Claire saw it, laughed, and asked if I was planning to make him flash cards next.

That was pretty much the end of that.

I drop the book into a box.

My phone buzzes.

It’s my editor.

Don’t forget—2 p.m. sharp. Everyone’s excited to finally meet you.

I smile before I can stop myself.

Today is the launch for my first picture book where my name is on the cover as both author and illustrator.

I’ve been working on it for almost two years.

I text back.

Wouldn’t miss it.

Someone pounds on the front door.

I check the time.

Seriously?

When I open it, Claire is standing there with Mason and two of Gray’s college friends.

Claire looks past me at the boxes.

“Oh. Wow. You’re actually doing this.”

“Yes.”

She sighs.

“Of course you are.”

I reach for the door.

“What do you want?”

“Gray had the worst game of his career yesterday.”

“I watched it.”

“And then you walked out on him.”

“Also true.”

Claire looks me up and down.

“You’re dressed.”

“I have somewhere to be.”

Mason frowns. “Where?”

“My book launch.”

Claire actually laughs.

I look at her.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Claire.”

She smiles. “I just forgot about the book thing.”

“It’s not a book thing. It’s my launch.”

“Right. Sorry. Huge difference.”

I grab my bag.

“I’m leaving.”

Claire blinks.

“You’re serious?”

“Yes.”

“Gray barely slept.”

“He’ll survive.”

Her eyebrows go up.

“Wow.”

Mason cuts in. “Come on, Lena. He got destroyed on national TV.”

“I know. I was there.”

“And you’re going to leave him alone?”

“He’s not alone. You’re all here.”

One of the other guys looks at my bag.

“Can’t they do the book thing without you?”

“I wrote it.”

He shrugs. “Okay, but it’s still a kids’ book.”

Claire laughs under her breath.

I look at her.

She lifts both hands.

“What? I didn’t say it.”

“You didn’t have to.”

I step toward the hall.

Mason moves in front of the door.

I stop.

“Move.”

“Just give Gray an hour.”

“I don’t have an hour.”

Claire leans against the wall.

“Oh, right. Very tight schedule. Wouldn’t want to keep the preschool crowd waiting.”

“Move.”

She smiles.

“You know, Gray loses one game and suddenly we find out where he ranks behind finger puppets.”

“My work has nothing to do with his game.”

“No, apparently not.”

I reach for the door.

Mason stays where he is.

I look at him.

“You’re literally blocking me.”

“We’re asking you to stay.”

“From in front of the door.”

Nobody moves.

Then one of the guys says, “It’s not like you need the money, Lena. Gray pays for everything anyway.”

I go still.

Claire gives him a look.

“Mason.”

For half a second, I think she’s going to tell him to shut up.

Instead she looks at me.

“I mean, he’s not wrong.”

I stare at her.

She shrugs.

“Gray gives you a pretty nice life. You get to draw your little books, set your own hours, do your creative thing. The least you could do is show up when he actually needs you.”

“My little books?”

Claire smiles.

“You know what I mean.”

“No. I really don’t.”

The elevator dings behind them.

Claire looks over my shoulder.

Her smile gets wider.

“Well.”

I turn around.

Gray steps out.