And then, at the wedding, overwrought and grief-stricken and desperate to drive him away, she’d confronted him without even a sliver of her usual caution. Without thinking about his history. The same way—as she’d informed him—he hadn’t thought about hers.
The irony strangled the breath in her throat.
What she’d said, however true, however necessary, had to have confirmed his worst fears. And she’d wielded the accusation without care, after implying they were friends and nothing more, their time together a mere interlude.
Fuck. Oh, fuck.
She hunched in on herself. “God. No wonder he didn’t argue after I said that.”
“Ren …” Sionna was rubbing her back again. “Do you love him?”
She hiccupped again, the sound loud and ugly. “Yes.”
There was no point prevaricating. Her best friend already knew, or at least suspected. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have asked the question. And Lauren wasn’t ashamed of loving him.
Alex deserved love. Enough to fill that huge, loyal, lonely heart of his.
And she’d beg, she’d bleed, to give it to him, but—
She was sobbing once more, her body bucking with it. “I can’t—I c-can’t let him d-destroy his career over m-me again. I c-can’t.”
“I understand that.” Sionna’s arms were soft and warm, and they drew Lauren close. “But, babe, I just …” She sighed. “I’m not sure that was a decision to make on your own. Especially without telling him everything and explaining how you feel. Without asking him whether he’d rather have a career or you, if he had to choose.”
Lauren took a dozen deep breaths, until her chest no longer hitched so hard. Then she shook her head against her friend’s shoulder, exhausted and so fucking sad, she wanted to sleep for a million years.
“But I knew what he’d say.” She bit her lip against more tears. “I knew what he’d do.”
He’d fire his agent.
He’d turn down StreamUs’s offer.
He’d choose her. Every time.
And then he’d find himself without money or prospects, unable to keep supporting his mother, Dina, and the charity, and he’d hate himself for it. He’d fight everyone who insulted and abused Lauren, and his foes would be legion. Endless.
He’d choose her, and then he’d lose everything but her.
“He deserves more,” she whispered, the words muffled against Sionna’s tee.
At that, her friend went still.
“Ren …” Sionna’s own chest hitched. “Sometimes I want to burn down the fucking world for what it’s done to you.”
After that, she didn’t say anything else. She just passed out tissues and rubbed circles over Lauren’s back until both of them had stopped crying.
LATER THAT DAY, Lauren attempted to stop missing Alex and distract herself from her doubts by searching for recent photos of him online.
If her logic was suspect, her fingers didn’t care. They were already clicking to open a new browser window and typing in his name and limiting the results to the past twenty-four hours, because she had to see him. She had to see his face and his expression and know he was fine. She had to know he was better off without her.
Surely he’d realized that too, by now.
Because if he hadn’t—
Firmly quashing that line of thought, she scrolled through the pics, none of which seemed to be from the past day, despite her search specifications.
Alex on a dais at Con of the Gates, his grin bright and savage as he detonated his career. Alex posing for a selfie while washing a car in only a pair of track pants, gleaming with water in the sun. Alex in his Cupid costume, laughing with one of the camera operators on set.
She’d studied all those photos before. Recently. Repeatedly.
God, she’d never spent so much time on social media in her entire damn life. But she couldn’t seem to stop cyberstalking him. Or crying.
She also couldn’t seem to find news of his deal with StreamUs, despite all the rumors still swirling. Worse, he hadn’t posted a damn thing anywhere since she’d abandoned him in the middle of his ex’s wedding reception. Not on YouTube or Instagram, where viewers were clamoring for more travel videos. Not on Twitter, where his followers mourned a sudden lack of shirtless thirst-tweet inspiration. Not on Facebook or—
Wait.
That was new. In a grainy, crooked photo, he was walking along a sidewalk outside a tidy strip mall, palm trees in the background. The shot could have been taken in any California suburb. According to the provided information, though, the picture originated from late that morning in … Florida?