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“Ditra and I are going to a concert, and it’s just for grownups. But you’re going to stay home with Uncle Josh and watch movies and eat popcorn and have lots of fun, okay?”

“Can I have ice cream, too?”

“You can have one scoop.” How can I say no when she’s inherited her ice cream addiction from me? I throw my mascara back into my makeup bag and plant a kiss on her nose just as Ditra appears in my bathroom doorway.

“Are you almost ready?” she asks. “We don’t want to be late. It’ll be a nightmare to find a parking spot.”

Taking a deep breath, I nod and exhale. “Yeah, I think I am.”

She picks up Lyric and settles her down on the floor, and we watch her happily skip off, most likely to find Josh downstairs.

“You look like you’re going to be sick,” Ditra says.

“I feel like I’m going to be sick.”

Ever since Blue walked out of my apartment years ago I’ve daydreamed about seeing him again, and now that day is here. Josh pulled some strings to get VIP meet-and-greet tickets to the No Tomorrow live acoustic show in Boston tonight. With any luck, I’ll be in the same room with Blue for the first time in five years. I’ve never been backstage at a concert before, but hopefully we’ll be able to talk somewhat privately.

Unless he runs when he sees me. Or pretends he doesn’t know who I am. Or…

“Piper?”

I shake my head and re-focus on Ditra. “Hm?”

“Stop freaking out. You’re going to be fine.”

“What if he ignores me? He might be too busy to even talk to me. He has fans now and I’m just a nobody.”

She tilts her head. “Seriously? He mentioned you by name in the CD credits. He left a note in your car. The dude isn’t going to ignore you once you’re right in front of him. Plus, you look drop-dead gorgeous. There’s no way in hell he’s going to blow you off. And if he does? I’ll throat punch him.”

“What if he goes ballistic when I tell him about Lyric? There’s going to be lots of other people there, right? I don’t want to cause any kind of scene.”

“I’m sure he’ll be surprised but I don’t think he’s going to go ballistic. She’s his daughter, and it’s time for him to know she exists. You’re doing the right thing telling him, no matter how awkward it is. That secret baby bullshit some women pull isn’t cool. You’re both adults. He’ll be fine. Maybe a little shocked, but fine. She’s a little girl, not a bomb.”

I wish I felt her confidence, but I have no idea how Blue is going to react when he sees me. I don’t know what kind of person he is now, or what frame of mind he’s currently in with his life. He could be totally level-headed or off the rails.

He could be married. He could have other children. He could have a girlfriend.

Hell—he could have all of the above and Lyric and I might just be a massive inconvenience to him.

Then what?

For two months I’ve been rolling the scenario dice in my head and have come up with several outcomes, ranging from epic disaster to fairytale happy ending.

As Ditra drives us to the concert, I’m only half involved in our idle conversation. The other half of my mind is back to trying to manifest everything I’ve been dreaming of, focusing on the positives, like I did the day Blue disappeared. It didn’t work then, but that doesn’t mean it won’t work now.

There’s power in positive thinking. I’ve read about it, I’ve seen others do it and they got the results they wanted.

So can I.

I can be happy. I can have the life I’ve dreamed of. I can—

“Piper?” Ditra shoves my shoulder. “Snap out of it. No amount of driving yourself crazy is going to change anything. Please stop worrying. Let’s just enjoy the concert. Do you have any idea how lucky we are to have tickets? This shit sold out months ago.”

“I know.” I wonder if the craziness of it shocks Blue as much as it does me. How he used to play for quarters thrown into a jar and now he’s sold out.

Ditra continues to rattle on next to me. “Whatever happens after that, happens. You can’t change it. But let’s have fun and at least appreciate that this drifter dude you dated, the father of your child, went from playing on the streets to being a freakin’ musical legend.”

My stomach lurches. Blue? A legend? “I don’t know about that, Dee.”

She turns the car into the venue parking lot. “It’s true. He’s the real deal.”

Legend. Real deal. None of that means a thing to me. He’s the guy who made me a bracelet, bought me ice cream cones, snuggled with me as rain pattered against the tin roof, sang me to sleep, and ultimately stole my heart.