"What an ugly kid!"

Nia spun around to find Isha peering at the portrait from over her shoulder. Her eyes were studying the painting closely and her nose had scrunched up.

"It's Myles," Nia said, picking the painting up from the bed. "I painted it for his thirteenth birthday."

Isha nodded, walking up to the closet. "I know it looked like Myles, that's why I called him ugly. You think I'd just go around calling kids ugly, Nia? What am I, a monster?" She pulled out a thick blanket and threw it on the bed, grabbing a towel with her other hand. "Also, I always knew your drawing skills were great. How'd the painting end up in our room though?"

Nia shook her head, wondering the same. Her eyes narrowed down on a small card that she hadn't noticed before. It had fallen on the bed and she assumed it must have slipped off the frame when she picked it. She held the card up and saw the words Regards, room 2604 printed on the embossed piece of paper. "Myles sent it," she said, examining the card. "He's in room 2604."

Isha frowned as she strode up to Nia and snatched the card from her hand. After looking at it for a couple of seconds, she glanced at Nia who was biting her nails. "You think he put it there, so you'd know where to find him?"

Nia didn't answer but she'd made up her mind. She grabbed her handbag and balancing the painting in her other hand, started to make her way towards the door.

"Nia, what are you doing?" Isha called out, her eyes wide. She glanced down at the digital watch on her wrist. "It's 1:30."

Nia held the painting to her chest and took in a deep breath. "I won't be able to sleep with this on my mind." She grabbed the doorknob and turned it, pulling the door open. "And I know Myles won't be able to either." She felt a hand on her shoulder and turned around to find Isha staring at her, worriedly.

"Do you want me to come?" she asked, her voice laced with concern.

"No, I'll be fine," Nia replied immediately. Shooting Isha a reassuring smile, she entered the corridor, and with long strides walked up to the elevator.

Tapping her foot as she jabbed her finger at the elevator button and glanced up at the digital screen indicating the elevator's descent towards her, she wondered what she was doing. Her decision to finally confront Myles had come sooner than she'd expected but she didn't have second thoughts. The fifteen-year-old painting had been enough to stir up old memories and Nia's eyes watered up at the idea of having an actual conversation with Myles after all these years.

A proper conversation. One where she isn't lying on the floor or doesn't need Isha to speak up for her because she's too shocked to say anything.

The elevator dinged as it opened in front of her and she stepped in, pressing the 26th-floor button. Praying that the elevator wouldn't make any stops on the way up—the sight of a woman riding an elevator while hugging a painting of a thirteen-year-old boy at two o'clock in the morning, was hardly a normal one—she sighed in relief when the doors opened directly on the twenty-sixth floor.

But the moment she stepped out, two hands shot out in front of her, blocking her path. She looked up to see two men on either side of her, dressed in jet black coats, staring down at her with furrowed eyebrows. "This floor is off limits, Miss." The black-haired one who reeked of cigarettes, said. He had a very distinct accent, but Nia couldn't quite place it.

"I just need to—" Nia started to say but the blond man cut her off.

"You aren't allowed here. The entire floor's reserved for the Glamorous pageant judges. We need you to get back into the elevator," he said with an American accent, his hand gesturing towards the closed doors of the elevator as he moved forward and pressed the button. The elevator doors immediately opened, and the man waited for her to obey him.

But she wasn't going to. "Look," she said, calmly. "I'm here to see Myles Torres. He is in room 2604, right? He is, uh—" she paused as two pairs of eyes narrowed down at her, curiously. "—expecting me. He is expecting me," she finished, hoping she sounded convincing.

The blond man stepped back from the elevator doors and looked at his partner. After having a silent conversation, the two of them looked at Nia with an amused expression. "Who are you, again?" The American enquired, cocking an eyebrow.

"Nia Balewa," she answered, wondering where the confidence in her voice was coming from.

The black-haired man pointed a finger at the painting in her hand. "What's that?" he asked.

Nia contemplated on whether she should show them the portrait or not. But when they continued to gaze at her questioningly, she was left with no choice. Reluctantly, she held up the painting. Their eyes studied the portrait of teenage Myles and the corners of their lips turned up into a smile.

"You are talented, we will give you that," the black-haired man told her, and she felt flattered. She was just about to thank him when he continued to say, "But fan-meets aren't allowed. Sorry Ma'am, you need to leave."

Nia rolled her eyes. She was too tired to be frustrated or start an argument with these security guards. Feeling helpless, she nodded her head and started to retrace her steps towards the elevator when someone spoke up. "What's going on?"

She spun around to see a blond, burly man, dressed just like the rest of the bodyguards, approaching them. He seemed familiar for some reason and she racked her brains to figure out where she'd seen him before and then it hit her. He was one of the guards who'd accompanied Myles to her room that morning.

When his eyes settled on her, his eyebrows shot up as a look of recognition passed his features and she gave him a small smile. The other men tried to explain to him how a Myles Torres fan had just stumbled upon the twenty-sixth floor, but he paid them no heed.

Instead, to their utter disbelief, he turned towards Nia and gestured for her to follow him. "Ma'am, come with me."

As the other bodyguards stood rooted to their spots, mouths agape, Nia adjusted the bag on her shoulder and walked past them, following Myles' personal bodyguard. He stopped in front of the door that said 2604 and rapped on it thrice.

After a moment, a voice called out. "Who is it?"

The bodyguard cleared his throat. "It's Fred, Sir. You have a visitor."

There was a pause on the other end as the doorknob turned, and the door opened with a click. Wearing a white sweatshirt, his hair a complete mess, stood Myles, a slice of pepperoni pizza in his hand. When his blue eyes met Nia's, he blinked repeatedly as though to make sure it wasn't a dream.

Fred cleared his throat and leaned over to whisper into Myles' ear. When he finished, Myles shook his head. "No, she's a friend. She is definitely not carrying a gun. I trust her. You can leave. Thanks, Fred."

With that, Fred gave a hesitant nod and withdrew into the corridor. Myles held the door wide open for Nia to enter and several thoughts swirled in her mind as she stepped inside.

"I didn't think you'd come," he said as he closed the door behind her and took a bite of his pizza slice.

Nia snuck a glance around his suite—the bed was a mess, clothes were strewn on the floor, towels hung from the coat rack, an untouched plate of food, which seemed to have much healthier options than pizza, sat on the nightstand, next to a photo frame that was lying face down.

"I didn't think I'd come either," she replied, finally turning to look at him. "Myles, we need to talk," she said, extending her hand with the frame towards him and he silently took the painting from her.

He stared at it for a moment before placing it inside his open luggage bag and asking her to follow him. She threw her handbag on the couch and complied.

He led her to the balcony and Nia's eyes widened at the sight of the spectacular London skyline that greeted her from twenty-six storeys above the ground. Her stomach dropped and as Myles made his way to the comfortable dining table which held a glass of wine and a box of pizza, she stopped at the glass doors.

Myles frowned as he watched her standing at the threshold. "You're still afraid of heights," he stated as it slowly dawned on him.

Nia didn't look at him. "It doesn't just go away like that," she said, staring at the floor of the balcony.

After a couple of seconds, when she felt a presence next to her, she glanced up to see Myles standing to her left with the glass of wine and the box of pizza. He stepped back into the room and said, "Come on. We'll eat inside."

He strode towards the table inside the room that was covered with his laptop and several loose sheets. He placed the glass and box in his hand on one of the chairs and gathered up the items from the table. Quickly dumping them on the bed, he made his way back and sat down on one of the chairs, pulling out another one for Nia.

Nia took in a deep breath but didn't sit. "What are you doing Myles? I'm not here in the middle of the night for a friendly chat."

Myles frowned as he held another slice of pizza in his hand. "No?"

Nia sighed. "Look, I need to know what the hell you were thinking to send that painting to my room like that." She paused. "I need to get this over with."

He put the slice down and stared at her, his blue eyes studying hers. "Get what over with?" he asked.

"Get this whole conversation over with," she answered, crossing her arms.

Myles bit into the pizza. "I only sent that painting to get your attention."

Nia held her hands up as she looked at him, incredulously. "So, you think approaching me in my room in broad daylight did not get you my attention?"

Myles let out a sigh. "I told you, I want to make things right." He glanced at the chair and pointed a finger at it. "Can you please sit down?"

Nia ignored the chair and looked at him incredulously. How was he so casual about this? "You want to make things right, well you can't," she said, plainly.

Myles was silent. He sipped some wine from the glass and turned towards her. "Why not?" he asked, his voice soft.

Her eyes watered up, but she did her best to hold back the tears. "Six years is a long time, Myles."

Placing the glass back on the table, he stood up and walked towards her. His eyes softened. "I know. And I am sorry."

Nia gave a mirthless laugh as he stopped right in front of her. She looked up at him and said, "Sorry? All your mistakes have been wiped clean, Myles. Congratulations!" The tears stung her eyes, but she couldn't cry. Not right now.

"Nia—" Myles started to say but Nia cut him off by punching him in the chest. She was surprised she did that but she found it satisfying. So she hit him again. Hard. And again. And again.

"You fucking asshole!" she yelled, as he held her by her shoulders and the intensity of her punches lessened. She felt Myles wrap his arms around her as he hugged her tight. "You left," she mumbled with her head rested on his chest. "You just left."

She felt the tears on her face and she realised she was crying. Blinking the tears away, she pulled away, wiping her face with the sleeve of her coat. "You asshole," she muttered, shaking her head. "You left," she repeated.

Myles nodded. "I did." He ran his fingers through his hair and closed his eyes for a couple of seconds before opening them and looking at her. She noticed that his nose was red; he was on the verge of tears.

Or maybe it was an act, she thought. Just an elaborate act. She couldn't trust him, he wasn't the Myles who had been her best friend. He wasn't the same person anymore.

But as he stood there in front of her, for some reason, she saw her best friend in him. Not the guy that broke up with her because he was so paranoid that he thought she was cheating on him; the guy who left without a goodbye; the guy who didn't try to contact her for six years.

But here he was, staring into her eyes like the eight-year-old that she'd befriended on his first day at school. The thirteen-year-old who had beaten up the bully at school for picking on her because of her race. The sixteen-year-old who'd wait under her window all those nights that they'd sneak out to attend late-night parties.

The memories storming into her mind calmed her down and she walked towards the table, dropping into the chair. She sat with her head in her hands and by the movement next to her, knew that Myles had sat himself down in the chair adjacent to hers.

"Nia," he said her name, slowly. And the way he said it, hurt. Listening to him say her name, tugged at the terrible memories that she'd pushed to the back of her mind. So, she didn't respond, but he continued anyway. "The thing with my Mom caused me to push you away. Push everyone away."

That was the trigger; an excuse for his behaviour, for the way he treated her, and it caused Nia to unleash the anger that she'd hoped she'd be able to control. She dropped her hands to rest on the table-top and glared at him.

"You didn't tell me about her, Myles. You came back from Lisbon a week early and you seemed miserable, so I asked you what was wrong," She slammed the table with her palm. "You said nothing. You didn't tell me and then you became paranoid."

She pointed a finger at him as she spoke through gritted teeth. "You accused me of cheating on you. And then...you broke up with me and left. Just like that. Joshua told me what had happened, and that's when I understood why you behaved the way you did. But I couldn't help you. Because you were gone, Myles. You were gone." Her jaw was clenched, and she knew that her nostrils were flaring. But she didn't care. If the anger was what helped her feel better, so be it.

Her hands were shivering but she balled them into fists and let the tears fall. She didn't try to hide them because Myles wasn't meeting her gaze. And she knew it had to be because he had teared up too.

She was right. He stared at the floor for a couple more seconds before he finally met her questioning gaze. There were tears in his eyes. Nia couldn't remember the last time that she'd seen him so vulnerable.

"I didn't know what I was doing. I was losing my mind, Nia." He said through gritted teeth and wiped his face with his sleeve. "I lost my ability to trust people after my Mom told me she was marrying that man, and I wondered if she had been cheating on Dad. And if Dad had known before he died. I mean, if my Mom could have betrayed his trust, anybody could betray mine."

Nia's voice wasn't complying. "You don't know if she cheated on your Dad, Myles," she said, her voice strained. "You ruined everything based on your sole accusation that she'd cheated on your Dad? Oh God." She let out a long sigh as she massaged her throbbing temples. "And...and what? You didn't trust me?" It was getting harder for her to talk. "We'd been friends for over ten years at that point Myles. Dating for two months. How could you not trust me?"

He shook his head as his shoulders slackened and he sunk into his chair. He raised both of his palms to his face and his voice merely audible, said, "I don't know, Nia. I don't know."

Nia scoffed. "You don't know? Easy for you to say." She pried his hand away from his face and looked him in the eye. All she saw was guilt. Voices in her head told her that she needed to calm down, but she paid them no heed. Today was the day she would let the words come flowing out of her mouth without thinking twice. Because she couldn't let all the feelings bottled up inside, eat away at her for any longer.

"Do you have any idea what your Mom and Joshua went through? Your brother—" She was choking up. She gulped and tried to continue. "—he was fourteen when it happened, Myles. When you left. Your mother was devastated. And afterwards, when you contacted Joshua, that was our only way of knowing what was going on with you." She paused and even though she was in a dire situation, couldn't help but roll her eyes as she added, "Well, that and all the celebrity gossip in the newspapers and online websites."

She clenched and unclenched her fists to slow her pulse down. Her mind wasn't working—that was what she told herself, was the reason she reached out and grabbed the slice of pizza on the table and bit into it. She could taste the pepperoni and the cheese and at another time, she would have enjoyed it. But right now, it was almost as if this was her excuse to calm her tits, the way Isha liked to say it, and not look at or talk to Myles. And that was weird because talking to him was the sole reason she'd come all the way up here.

She stayed silent until she finished the slice. Myles did too. Her anger subsided, and she tried to steady her breathing. She could feel his gaze piercing into her skin and it took everything in her to not sneak a glance at him. When she took the last bite, she didn't look up. Instead, she stared at the wooden table-top, chewing the crust slowly. Her tears had dried up and she rubbed her palm over her face in an attempt to distract herself from the pair of blue eyes that were watching her intently.

Apparently, he had waited long enough. Because when Myles took in a deep breath, Nia had to return her attention to him. "I was too ashamed to contact you," he said finally. "Too ashamed of what I did. I mean, what would I even say?" He faked a smile as he continued. "Hey, Nia! Sorry for being a paranoid freak and breaking up with you and abandoning everyone I care about."

She turned to him, an amused look on her face. "You do realise you're doing the exact same thing right now?"

He scratched his head and she could see the hint of a smile as the corners of his lips curled up for a moment. "Yeah," he admitted. "I plucked up the courage to do it after six long years. I figured I'd been a coward for too long. And this was my last chance to make things right."

"Last chance?" she asked, confused. And then it struck her. "You knew I was going to be at the pageant. How?"

"I knew where you work, Nia," he explained. "When I'd asked Joshua about you on one of the days, he'd mentioned it in passing." He held up his hands and added, "Creepy, I know. But I just strongly hoped you'd be one of the artists they sent." He glanced at the open luggage bag and jabbed a thumb in its direction. "And then I thought of carrying the painting—" He paused as he fumbled for words."—as... as proof that I still cared about you. That I know what a terrible person I was and what grave mistakes I made and I—I wished I had another chance. And if I could, I would start over."

At his words, something inside Nia stirred. She couldn't deny the relief that she felt as she sat there, having poured her heart out. All those times in the shower that she'd come up with smart-ass things to say to Myles if she ever met him again; she hadn't said any of those. She felt better, though. Like a weight had been lifted off her chest.

Deep down, she'd wished this day would come. When Myles would apologise for what he'd done, and they'd go back to being friends. But right now, a part of her conscience said that it wasn't as easy as that.

The other part of her conscience said that she was the only one who was making it harder. The whole situation could be easy if she wanted it to be.

She watched Myles as he gazed at the floor, playing with the ring on his right index finger. She didn't know why she did it, but she reached out her hand to hold his. There was a weird determination inside of her, thanks to the latter part of her conscience; all of a sudden, the anger drained from her body replaced by a sense of relief. She wanted to forgive him; she wanted to forget all the things that had happened, and she wanted to let go of the past. 

Was this the kind of peace you felt after a meditation session? she wondered.

Myles stared at her, surprised. "You want to start over, you can," she said softly. His hold on her hand tightened as his eyes widened at her words. She gave him a smile, a genuine one. "I forgive you. Because I need this too. Closure."

Myles nodded his head fervently. "Thank you, Nia. You have no idea—"

Nia interrupted him. "You need to make things right with your mother."

He froze. She squeezed his hand in a reassuring manner, but she was doubtful it did any good. "She is broken, Myles," she continued. "She might seem happy but on the inside, she is hurting because you aren't a part of her life. She has been in pain, every single day since you left." She pulled out her phone from her coat pocket and scrolled through her text messages until she found her conversation with Joshua. "She's still in Lisbon. Joshua is back home in New York, but your Mom has planned to stay in Lisbon for a few more weeks."

Myles arched an eyebrow. "How do you know all this?"

Nia shrugged with a sad smile on her face. "Not all of us lost all contact with the ones we love." A look of guilt swept across his features, but she continued. "After everything, Joshua, Maria and I got closer to one another. And yes, she insisted I call her Maria because it made her feel young." She chuckled. "I'm still not used to it."

Myles allowed himself a smile. But it vanished as soon as it had appeared. He shook his head. "She won't forgive me, Nia."

"She will. She loves you. Trust me. Don't delay this. Don't wait another six years."

Myles took in a deep breath. "How is she? I mean—" He swallowed, as though the words hurt him. "—her husband and new family."

"She's happy with them, Myles," Nia responded, thinking of how fond she was of the Butterworths. "Mr Butterworth is a really nice man. His kids are great too; they're twins—Seth and August." She paused, and then checked the date on her phone. "If I remember correctly, August is right here in London for her best friend's wedding."

Myles blinked. "I don't want to meet her," he said immediately, looking startled.

Nia laughed at his reaction. Laughing right now made her feel less stressful and she hoped it had the same effect on him. "I know, I was just saying. But seriously, they're great people and I'm really close to them. Your mother and Joshua are happy, Myles, they really are."

He nodded. "I am happy for them," he said, dropping his gaze. He encased her hand between both of his and she felt the warmth of his skin on hers.

Ignoring her headache, she said, "You are a part of that family too. You just need to make things right. The Butterworths are really caring, they'll welcome you with open arms."

Myles nodded his head, and he gave her a small smile. "I don't know if it's possible, but I have to try." He let go of her hand and stood up. His eyes searched for something as he scanned his room and finally walked over to the nightstand. Picking up his phone, he did some typing and then returned to sit next to her. He held up the screen for her to read. "The flight from London to Lisbon lasts for less than three hours. We can travel the week after next," he said.

Nia blinked slowly. "What?"

Myles looked up and started to explain. "The week after next, the participants have their own thing so the rest of us are free, right. You don't have to work, do you?"

Nia shook her head. "No, I don't, but I didn't realise you wanted me to come with you."

"Oh," Myles paused, not knowing what to say. "Um, I assumed you'd tag along. But it's okay, it's fine." He held his hands up. "I'll do it. On my own. Yeah, of course, I can do this alone. I can, I mean it's not that big a deal. I can—"

"Myles." Nia stopped him, but he continued to blabber. "Listen to me." She held his arm. He finally stopped talking and focused on what she had to say. "If you want me to, I will come with you."

He sighed, and his shoulders relaxed. "Oh, thank God." He threw his arms around Nia, pulling her into a hug. "I can't do this alone, Nia. I can't."

"Hey, hey," Nia said, pulling away and placing a hand on his cheek. She looked into the blue of his eyes and tried to give him a reassuring smile. He seemed so helpless, it pained her to see him like this. Even after all that she'd gone through, tonight she'd felt like this ex-best friend of hers hadn't changed that much. Not in the ways that mattered, anyway. "You don't have to. You're not alone, Myles."

He nodded his head. He stayed silent for a moment and his eyes fell on the empty box of pizza. He reached across the table to lift it up; standing, he made his way to the bin to dump it in. "My gym instructor will kill me if he sees this," he said, sheepishly. "But I couldn't resist my cravings."

Nia smiled as the mood in the room lightened—like nobody had been yelling and crying, fifteen minutes ago. She couldn't tell if she was looking forward to a trip to Portugal or dreading it. Or maybe a little of both.

Either way, all her plans of steering clear of Myles had gone down the drain.

And she didn't regret it one bit.