Chapter 2

I stared at those two words. The last trace of wanting was gone.

My boss called.

"Aria. The overseas transfer list is being finalized today. Your spot's still open. Three years is a long time, I know. But it's a real opportunity. Think about it one more time?"

I didn't refuse. I said yes.

The paperwork ate up the whole day. Submitting. Signing. Confirming. Some people looked sorry. Some wished me well. Some whispered—was I fighting with Hunter again?

I said it plain. "We're not fighting. We broke up."

I filed the last document. Looked out the window. The sky was gray. Heavy.

Between the towers, I could see the estate's dome in the distance.

I pulled my eyes back. Sent my flight info to Remy.

**Flying out in two weeks. Get together before I go?**

She shot back.

**Finally! The private club just opened a new billiards hall. Come shoot with me.**

The private club was the most exclusive spot on the Upper East Side. Hunter's circle's regular haunt.

Remy was already warming up when I got there. She broke with a gorgeous shot.

"There you are." She tossed her hair. Looked me up and down. "You look decent. I thought you'd be a wreck. Sobbing. Barely alive."

I set my bag down. Picked a cue off the wall. "Sorry to disappoint."

I sank a ball. Remy whistled. "Damn. Haven't played in forever and you've still got it."

I smiled. My dad taught me billiards.

He said the game required absolute calm. Focus. No matter how much your heart churned, your hand couldn't shake.

I played for years. City tournaments. State championships. Prizes.

Then Hunter said it made me look too hard. Too cold. I never picked up a cue again.

I was bending down for the yellow ball when the automatic door opened behind me.

Voices. Laughter.

"Hunter, that bank shot you pulled off was insane. When are you gonna teach me?"

"Please. With your skills, what's the point? Besides, name one person Hunter's ever personally taught. Other than Miss Quinn, of course."

They came closer. My hand paused at his name.

Then I took the shot. Clean. Yellow ball in the pocket.

"Well, well. Isn't that Hunter's little girlfriend?" That lazy drawl. The guy who shoved the camera in my face. "Correction. Ex-girlfriend Aria."

"Mouth says breakup. Body says otherwise. Held out a whole day. Then tracked him here the second she knew he'd be at the club."

The jeering piled up.

Remy was ready to charge. I held out a hand. Kept lining up my next shot.

My silence only fed them. Voices pitched higher.

"Aria. Drop the act. You followed him here. Now you're pretending you don't see us?"

"Hunter's over here. Come sit."

More laughter.

I knew Hunter was in that crowd. Same as always. Indifferent. Not smiling. Not annoyed. Like none of it had anything to do with him.

But he was waiting.

Waiting for me to do what I'd done a thousand times. Walk over. Smile. Say, "Oh, fancy running into you guys." Then settle in beside him like I belonged there.

I used to do exactly that. I couldn't take the cold silence. I was terrified of losing him. I believed if I just bent low enough, we could go back.

Not anymore.

I knocked the last red ball in. Straightened up. Handed my cue to a server.

"Let's go."

Remy blinked. Followed.

As I passed Hunter, I heard Quinn's soft laugh.

"Relax. She's always like this. She's just mad. Give it a couple days. She'll come back."