Despite my crazed inspiration that night, I didn't actually leave for New York the following morning. I ran my plan past both Emilia and my dad, and I was unsurprised to find varying responses to what I wanted to do.

Emilia, obviously, was all for it. She practically packed my overnight bag for me and kicked me out the door. I think part of her wanted to ask if she could come too, but we both knew that this was something I needed to do on my own.

My dad, however, was less for it. Over the weeks of radio silence from Alex, he had grown less sympathetic and more hostile, greatly on my behalf.

"Ana, does he even want to see you?"

"Probably not." I stood with my arms crossed, trying not to lose my resolve. "But I want to see him."

"And if he breaks your heart?"

I sighed. I had broken down and told my dad everything, from what happened to Alex's sister to the extent of my feelings for him, one night when my dad was visiting me at my apartment. "Then I get my heart broken," I replied. "It's a risk I'm willing to take."

According to Emilia, who had been my faithful Coral Brews spy on my time off, the rest of the staff was split as to if they thought I should go. Everyone had varying knowledge of what my relationship with Alex actually was, and no one knew who was exactly right. But some thought that I simply deserved better; the others, that we deserved a chance to make things work.

"Ryan wouldn't tell me what side he was on," Emilia said. "I think he's worried that if he pisses you off, you'll never come back."

That made me laugh. I missed the bar and the crew so much that I was dying for my dad to let me come back. Ryan could have straight up said that he wanted to murder Alex and I don't think I would have been pissed enough to stay away.

Despite all protestations, I found myself on the road just a few days later, getting more and more anxious by the minute as I got closer and closer to New York City. I had a plan in mind, a parking garage I was going to aim for and the path I would take to get to Alex's building. I was praying Charles the doorman would remember me and be nice enough to let me in. But as to whether Alex would listen to me or not? That, I had no idea.

The first part of my plan worked perfectly. I left my car and walked quickly through the city streets, my stomach churning. I breathed a sigh of relief when I got to Alex's building and saw that Charles was there.

"Uh, hi," I said as I approached. "Charles, I don't know if you remember me—"

"Of course, I remember you," he said. "You were with Mr. Castellan not too long ago."
I nodded, feeling empowered. "That's right, I'm actually here to see him."

But Charles didn't move from his spot. "He didn't tell me you were coming," he said gently. "Do you want me to call up?"

I swallowed hard. I was almost certain that if Charles asked for Alex's permission, Alex would turn me away. "Charles, please. You can't tell me that since he's been back that he hasn't been different."

The doorman studied me. "Honestly, I haven't seen much of him at all. He was quite distressed when he first came, not long after the two of you left. But other than that?" Charles shook his head. "I know he's still alive out there given that he keeps getting food delivered, but I haven't really seen him."

"And is that normal for him?"

"Not at all."

"I need to talk to him, Charles," I pleaded. "Even if he doesn't want to talk to me."

I couldn't read his expression, but then he stood aside. "Don't make me regret this," he warned.

"I won't, thank you thank you thank you."

I rushed past him before he could change his mind and made my way into the elevator. Heart pounding in my chest, I watched the numbers increase until I hit Alex's floor. Steeling myself, I made my way to his door and knocked.

Except, that knock didn't exactly convey how I was feeling at the moment.

I knocked harder.

Nope.

I pounded on the door until it flew open.

I took a half step back in shock as I stared at Alex. To say he looked horrible would be an understatement. But what was worse was the look of horror on his face when he saw me standing in front of him.

"What are you doing here, Ana?" Even his voice sounded rougher than usual.

"Alex." It was all I could say.

Any of my desires to confront him and get answers about what happened in the hospital faded away. I knew what I was seeing written all over him. Grief. Pure, ugly, unfiltered grief. If I had to bet, it was all the grief that he had spent the past few months purposely not feeling. And it had hit him like a truck.

"I asked you what you were doing here."

"Let me in, Alex." I wasn't about to have this conversation in the hallway. I frowned when he didn't move. "Let me in, Alex. You know I'm not going away until you do."

I worried for a moment that he wouldn't relent, but then he took a step back and I pushed passed him. His apartment was the next thing that gave me pause.

It had been immaculate when I was there. But now, the entire place was an absolute mess. Empty take-out containers littered basically every flat surface. Shoes and clothes were everywhere, and let's just say the smell left a lot to be desired.

"Am I going to have to ask you a third time?"

I turned back around to face him, this time taking in more of his appearance. His hair was longer and uncombed. His eyes were red, his face pale, and I'm convinced he lost weight.

"Look, I'm not going to lie to you," I began, "I came because I wanted an explanation out of you about what happened. But that doesn't matter to me anymore."

He scoffed. "Why? Because you saw me and decided you wanted to save me?" He sneered his words, and I felt bile rise up in the back of my throat.

"No, it's because I came here and saw that you are clearly not okay," I snapped back. "And I care about you more than I care about getting a damn explanation."

I watched him cross the kitchen and pull out a beer bottle from the refrigerator, flicking off the cap.

I tried again. "Look, Alex, I know that the accident is what set this off for you. I don't know why exactly, but that doesn't matter, it did. And no matter how angry I am at you, that doesn't mean I don't care."

He still said nothing.

"You know, I came here fully prepared to forgive you," I carried on, figuring that if he wasn't going to talk, I might as well. "I was going to forgive you for leaving me when I needed you in the one place that I hate most in the world. I was going to forgive you. Hell," I sighed, "I do forgive you."

"And why's that?" Alex asked. "Because you're so perfect and have such a fantastic handle on your emotions?"

Now it was my turn to laugh. "'A fantastic handle on my emotions,'" I repeated. "Right. No, Alex, I forgive it all because I love you. And I can't stay angry at you."

At least that got a reaction. His gaze flickered up to mine in shock and his mouth opened slightly.

"Don't worry, you didn't mishear," I said. "I love you. I love you, Alex, and there's not a goddamn thing you can do about it."

Silence. And then. "Is this supposed to change anything?" he asked. "What did you expect? That you were going to come here and tell me that and then everything would be just fine?"

"No." Nothing could have been farther from the truth. "Not at all. Because here's the thing, Alex, maybe you love me back. Maybe you don't. And maybe you think you love me, but I'm actually just a life raft for you, and I have been since we met."

Another reaction, and this time Alex took half a step toward me. But I took a step back. "You haven't processed your sister's death, that much is clear. And I see now that what we had, that was keeping you from doing it. And I'm sorry for my role in that.

"So maybe you love me, and maybe you don't. But either way, I've been that life raft. And that can't go on."

"Aren't you going to let me say anything about this?" Alex asked. "It is my life, we're talking about."

"You can, but I'm guessing you're just going to deny it." I paused, but when he didn't speak, I knew I was right. "I want you to get better, Alex." I swallowed hard and felt tears threatening at my eyes. "And while you can't do that on your own, I also don't think you can do it with me around."

He narrowed his eyes. "So what? You're just giving up on me?"

"No." My voice had dropped to barely above a whisper as I felt my throat closing up. "Never. Ever. But if you don't love me, Alex, and you're just using me, intentionally or not, as a way to heal yourself? That's not fair to me. I deserve better than that. And if you do love me? I can't be your life raft. We would be dooming ourselves to failure right from the very beginning. And we both deserve better than that."

We stared at each other in silence for way too long. I wanted him to say something, anything, but eventually, I realized that I would be waiting forever for that to happen.

"I should go," I finally said. When I walked to the door, he didn't stop me.

I turned around before fully leaving. "I don't know if it helps or not, but I believe in us," I told him, not bothering to stop myself from crying. "I believe in you. I hope you find a way to get yourself help, Alex. And if you do, well," I gave a small shrug, "you know where to find me."

I hurried out of his apartment, hearing the door slam behind me just as I let out a small sob. I practically ran out of the building, only pausing briefly to thank Charles once again, and then almost sprinted back to my car. I sat behind the wheel for almost three-quarters of an hour, getting myself together before heading back to Delphine.