But I do. Terribly so.

“I’m going home,” I say, not waiting for him to answer. “We’re both upset about losing Acorn and if we keep talking, we’re just going to hurt each other.”

With a hard stare, he takes a long drag on his cigarette. “Yeah. Apparently so.”

I walk around the car to the driver’s side door, and he talks to my back. “I’ve been clean for six months. Can’t you tell I’m better?”

When we talked on the phone the other day I could tell something was different, but I thought it was just the shock of me calling him and telling him about Acorn that had subdued him.

Standing in front of my door, I turn to him with my car keys in my hand. “I’m glad, Blue. But it doesn’t change anything else.”

His hair flies around his shoulders as he shakes his head. “You’re wrong, Piper. It changes everything.”

I unlock my door, listening to his boots on the pavement walking in the other direction. “We’re not over, Ladybug,” he calls over his shoulder.

I sit in my car for a long time, crying for the dog I’m not going home with and regretting how Blue and I are leaving things. Once again we’ve left each other in limbo, with no closure, no parting on good terms, no understanding of where we stand. I don’t know how to find any kind of peace with him and move forward.

Suddenly my car door is thrown open and I jump and yelp in surprise.

“Get out of the car.”

My chest heaves up and down with fear as I look up at him leaning one arm on the top of my car and the other on the top of my window.

I let out a breath of relief that it’s him and not a lunatic carjacking me.

“Please, Blue, just go away.”

“No. We’re not doing this again. This is the kind of shit that sends me straight into a bottle or makes me snort lines all night and I’m not doing it. I’m not waiting another two or three fucking years to talk to you again, either. Get out of the car or I’m coming in there. Your choice. And don’t forget how much I love car sex.”

“Blue—”

He grabs my arm and tugs me out of the car. I stare at him like he’s lost his mind. “Why are you acting like this?” I demand. “I have to go home.”

“Because I want to talk to you. You wouldn’t talk to me on the phone, and you refuse to come with me to talk in private. So now we’re going to talk here in the middle of this fucking parking lot because I’m not leaving without talking to you.”

“Okay.” His demanding attitude has my interest piqued, and my inner romance fan is swooning and begging for more.

“The past six months have been really hard, Piper. Withdrawals, crazy mood swings, feeling sick all the time. I wanted to freakin’ crawl out of my own skin. I got through it, though, and you want to know how?”

I nod. “Yes. Tell me.”

“Thinking about you and Lyric. You’re what got me through.”

“I don’t—”

“I want you back. And I want to meet my daughter. I’m thirty-four, Piper. Thirty fucking four. I’ve fucked up a ton of shit. I’ve lost literally years of my life being high or running away from something that I can’t even see or explain. I don’t want to do it anymore. I want you, and my kid, and my band.” He grabs my hand. “I wanted my dog too, but I’m too late. I won’t be too late for you and Lyric.”

“Evan….”

“I’m not kidding, Piper. This is all I’ve been thinking about since you told me to fuck off years ago.”

I feel incredibly small and vulnerable all of a sudden. Stripped of all the strength I’ve built up over the years and attempted to enforce tonight. His words have gutted me, and I’m not sure if it’s because I’m already broken over losing Acorn, or if the exhaustion of wishing and hoping for Blue to get to this place for so long has finally taken its toll.

I should be jumping up and down with excitement. Or telling him no; it’s too late for us. But instead I feel numb and unable to feel much of anything. It’s as if a thousand bees have taken up residence inside me and are buzzing, buzzing, buzzing, drowning out everything and making my entire body tremor with an odd, unfamiliar energy.

He squeezes my hand. “Say something.”

“I’m not sure what to say.”

A car door opening and closing, then an engine starting sounds behind us, and a few seconds later the car’s headlights shine on us as it pulls out of the parking lot. A quick glance reveals it’s Dr. Simon leaving—the doctor who slid a thin needle into my dog’s fragile vein and then promised they would handle him with love and care until his remains were ready for me to pick up in a mahogany urn Blue and I picked out.