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  “I don’t know. What do you want to do? Name it and we’ll do it,” he says, then adds, “Except sleeping or staying in bed.”

  “There’s always a catch,” I mutter, then rack my brain thinking of things that I’d actually enjoy doing today. “You can’t really go out in public, so that limits the options.”

  “No,” he says, acquiescing. “But I do come with some other pros to make up for that.”

  I eye him warily. “Such as?”

  I suppose he would have some pros, but the ones that I can think of I wouldn’t be comfortable with. I’m not going to let him throw his money around to try and temporarily cheer me up, no matter how much I appreciate the gesture.

  “We could travel somewhere, or we could go see any concert that’s in town with backstage access. We could hire out your favourite restaurant so no one else is there….” He pauses and glances at me. “But knowing you, you wouldn’t want any of those things. So how about a hike and a picnic? Away from everyone, and we get to go out and about and see some cool views.”

  I smile widely. “That sounds perfect.”

  He makes a noise of amusement in his throat and shakes his head, his brown hair moving. “We could fly to New Orleans and have beignets, or fly to Vegas to hit one of their clubs, but no, that’s too much for you, isn’t it?”

  “Unless I’m paying for it,” I say, shrugging. “Look, you’re all famous and shit, I get it. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to take advantage of that, it just doesn’t feel right. It’s your success, not mine.”

  He sighs, like I don’t get him at all, and mutters something under his breath that I don’t really catch.

  “What?” I ask him.

  “Nothing, Sabina,” he says, grinning. “Hike and picnic it is.”

  I eye him suspiciously, but stay quiet. I’m happy that I get to wear my new sneakers. It’s been so long since I’ve been on a hike, and I’m really looking forward to it. Ben hated hiking, or anything outdoorsy really, while I love that shit. I love going on adventures. Trying new things. Exploring.

  The truth is—I have a wild side in me.

  And it’s been a while since I let her out.

  *****

  “This view is insane,” I call out to Dean, laughing once more when I see him carrying the picnic basket in his masculine hands. You can’t have a proper picnic without the basket and blanket, and when he offered to carry them I wasn’t about to say no, however, he does look kind of ridiculous. I was going to make sandwiches and do a nice little spread for our expedition, but Dean said there was a place where they made it all up for you, and all you had to do was pay for it. So I let him throw his money at the situation, and in return we got a beautifully crafted basket filled with gourmet goods for our lunch. I brought my own blanket, a tartan one I bought when I was on holiday in Scotland, and all in all I think we have a pretty sweet set-up. We walked up this trail, which took us an hour, and now we can sit down and enjoy the food. Dean lays out the blanket, while I drink some water then pull out my hand sanitiser and rub it into my hands, then offer it to him.

  “You carry around hand sanitiser?”

  I nod.

  “What are you, a soccer mum?” he teases, but accepts the little bottle.

  “No, although I think I’d make a good one. I’m just a girl who likes her hands to be germ free.”

  He chuckles and hands me back the bottle, then rubs his hands together. We both sit down and open the basket, pulling out its delicious contents. Impressed, I eye the cheese, crackers, cold cuts, olives, fruit, and sandwiches and give them my approval.

  “Looks so good,” I say, opening the container with the strawberries. “This is the best idea you’ve ever had. Fuck my sandwiches, this looks amazing!”

  He chuckles and says, “I’m sure yours would have been great too, but I didn’t want you to have to make them. I wanted you to just enjoy. You’ve been through hell and back, I think you more than anyone deserve to be spoiled a little. I’m only here for a little while, so it’s the least I can do with the limits you’ve allowed me.”

  Our eyes connect and hold, hazel clashing with green.

  “You’re a good man, Dean Amore. Next time I won’t believe anything the magazines say about you.”

  He laughs and pops an olive in his mouth.

  Then we demolish the entire spread.

  Chapter Six

  I’m feeling down again by dinner time. When I have nothing distracting me, the pain returns. My mind remembers what happened, what I’ve lost, and I start to fall back into that hole. It’s hard. I can’t be doing something every minute of every day, although I can try. And I know when Dean leaves and I’m alone in the house again it’s going to get worse. Maybe I should ask Tara to move in with me for a few weeks.

  “I’m going to help you pack up all of his belongings,” Dean says, making me jump. I didn’t even know he’d entered the room. He looks around what was my and Ben’s bedroom, but is now just mine. His clothes are still in the wardrobe, his shoes in the exact place he left them in the corner of the room. His toothbrush is still in its holder in the bathroom, his bathrobe hanging on the back of the door.

  How am I meant to get rid of all his things, like he never existed?

  “I don’t want to,” I say in a small voice. That makes it real, and I don’t want this to be real. No, I want this to be a dream, and when I wake up, it’s going to be in his arms.

  Dean sits down on my mattress, the spring creaking under his weight. He glances around my room, then says, “I know you don’t want to, Sabina, but you need to. It doesn’t mean you forget him, you don’t, but you can’t pretend that nothing has changed either. It has.”

  I know this, I do.

  Still, I don’t fucking want to deal with it.

  “Do you want me to do it all?” he offers, studying me with a blank expression on his face. “You don’t even have to be here. You can go for a walk, or go to see a movie or something.”

  Did I want to be here for it? Will going through all his stuff be closure for me, or will it just make me miserable? I don’t really know. I do know that I don’t want to deal with it right now though.

  “What will you do with all his clothes and stuff?” I ask him.

  “Why don’t you take whatever you want to keep, and the rest we’ll give to Kate,” he suggests. “She can decide what she wants to do with everything.”

  “Yeah, okay,” I murmur, glancing around the room, wondering what I wanted to keep with me.

  Dean stands and leaves the room, giving me space, and I’m thankful for that. I walk to our his-and-her wardrobe, open it, and look to the right, to his side. His clothes stare at me, and I lift my hand and run it along them. After a few moments, I take out four of his favourite t-shirts and the suit he wore at our wedding. I reach on top and take down all of our photo albums, and put them all on the bed. There’s no way I want to lose any of those. I keep his signature cologne bottle, a little creepy, but the slightest whiff of it reminds me of him, and I think that could be comforting. Everything else can go.

  I guess it doesn’t belong here without him.

  *****

  “I’m glad you’re out and about,” my best friend says, wrapping her arm around me. “I’ve missed you.”

  I glance away from the TV screen to look at her. “I’ve been struggling.”

  It’s hard to admit out loud, even though everyone knows it to be the truth. I don’t want to be weak. I don’t want anyone to think of weakness when they think of me. I want them to think of strength. Of a woman who can’t be pushed down to the ground without getting up. A fighter. I am a fighter. Even the strongest of people have their moments. Losing someone you love isn’t easy, especially when you love as hard as I do. I love with everything I have, and give my all to those I love. I was all in with Ben. What happens when the person you give all of yourself to is gone?

  You struggle.

  You grieve, you absorb that pain and carry it with you e
verywhere you go. That is strength: the ability to go on and push forward, no matter how long it takes you to get there. It’s not a race. Everyone heals in different ways, in their own time. I don’t know when I will, but I do know it will happen. I’m hopeful, and hope is a powerful thing.

  “I know, honey,” she says, face crumpling. “I know. I’ve been struggling watching you struggle.”

  She rests her hand on mine and gives it a light squeeze. “So Dean’s packing up all of Ben’s things?”

  I nod miserably. “Yeah. I know it should be me doing it, but I think I’m still in denial.”

  “You’ll get there, Bina. I’m just glad that you’ve left your bed and had a shower.” She pauses then adds, “And washed your hair. Brushing it must have been quite the mission.”

  “You have no idea.” I groan, then laugh a little. “I just wanted to pretend I didn’t exist, you know? But now it’s time to face everything.”

  She nods, tucking her blonde hair back behind her ear. “I knew you’d get there. Seeing you not eating scared me though, because food is your life.”

  I roll my eyes, even though it really is.

  “How delicious is Dean, by the way? I haven’t seen him since Ben’s birthday last year. I’m surprised he even remembered my name!” she says, fanning herself. “He’s even hotter in person, I think. You should ask him for tickets to his next concert.”

  “Why don’t you ask him?” I say, smirking. “I don’t want to ask, I’d rather just buy them myself.”

  “And be right in the back as opposed to front row?” she asks, sighing. “Why are you so damn stubborn all the time? You aren’t going to owe him anything just because he gave you concert tickets. He’s your family.”

  Is he, though? He was my family through Ben, and now there is no Ben. Soon, Dean and I won’t even keep in touch. He’ll just be someone I used to know, and I’ll just be his cousin’s widow. The thought makes me sad. Dean has really come through for me, and I don’t know what I’d have done without his help. I’d probably have left Ben’s clothes there forever like a total creep.

  “It’s like you said, I just don’t like feeling like I owe people anything,” I say, giving her the short version. “I know you say that I won’t, but I would still feel like I did. So it’s easier not to.” I don’t know, I’d rather just rely on me and me alone, and I just hate asking for favours. If I ask you for something, I truly trust you. And I don’t trust many people. Tara and Ben are the only ones. And now it’s just Tara.

  She expels a deep sigh, silently telling me how difficult she thinks I am. “Do you want to do something or just hang out here?”

  I glance at my watch. “We could catch dinner and a movie if you want? My shout. Dean said he’ll need a couple of hours.”

  “Sounds good,” she says, smiling. “Work’s been killing me, and I’ve been so worried about you. I can’t remember the last time I did anything fun.”

  Tara’s an English teacher. I don’t know how she does it, especially with teaching high school, but she’s good at her job. Sometimes when the kids are mean to her, I feel like rocking up to the school and threatening them. Some of the boys make comments to her too, because she’s a babe and they’re sixteen and douchebags. But she handles everything with her usual gentle grace, and I don’t think there’s anyone who would make a better teacher than her.

  “Besides messing my house up trying to make me eat?” I tease, playfully nudging her with my elbow.

  “Priorities, Bina,” she says, huffing. “And it wasn’t that messy. What movie should we see?”

  “I don’t know, I’ll check online and see what’s on tonight.”

  She beams, her beautiful smile hitting me right in the gut. “Excellent. Let me go and get dressed, I can’t leave the house like this.” She motions to her shorts and singlet top, then stands and heads to her bedroom.

  I think about how happy she is just to spend some quality time with me.

  The simple joys of friendship, that’s something to push forward for.

  Chapter Seven

  I walk into my house and glance around. It looks exactly the same, but it feels different.

  “Dean?” I call out, walking through the lounge room. When I can’t find him, I open my bedroom door but don’t enter. I just stand there for a few moments, unable to move. I turn the light on, and at first everything looks the same. But then I step into the room and see that his shoes aren’t in their corner. Everything that belonged to him is gone. I open the wardrobe, and his side is empty except for the few items that I decided to keep. Everything else is gone, like it never existed. Like he never lived here. I sit down on the bed, struggling to breathe. I calm myself, take deep breaths, and tell myself that this needed to happen. And it did. But it’s not easy. It feels so final.

  He’s really gone.

  And I need to accept it.

  “Hey,” Dean says in a soft voice. “I wanted to be here before you got home.”

  When I don’t say anything, he continues, “I went to drop the boxes off at Kate’s.”

  I bet she was happy about that.

  I nod, but keep my gaze on my hands.

  “Are you okay, Sabina? Do you want to be alone?”

  I raise my face and look at him. “Thanks for doing this for me. I know I wouldn’t have been able to.”

  “Come here,” he says, opening his arms to me. I stand and lay my cheek on his chest, falling into his embrace. I don’t cry this time, I just feel… a little broken inside. I feel lost. I’m trying, I really am, but I think that time is the only thing that’s going to help me through this.

  “Everything hurts,” I say.

  “I know,” he whispers, running his hand down my back in comforting circles. “You’re doing so well. One step at a time. Get some sleep, and everything will look better in the morning, I promise. We’re going to get out of the house, get your mind off everything. I have something planned for you.”

  The last thing I want to do right now is leave the house, but I nod. Tomorrow is a new day, and as I’ve learnt, distraction is key. I breathe in the scent of Dean’s cologne on his white t-shirt and close my eyes.

  Finally, I lift my head and glance up at him, our eyes connecting. “Did you have dinner?”

  He nods. “Kate made sure I ate something.”

  “Good,” I say, forcing a small smile. It probably came out as more of a grimace, but I tried. “I think I’m going to go to bed. I’ll see you in the morning?”

  “Okay,” he says, then lowers his head to kiss my forehead. “If you need me, I’m right here. Anytime, Sabina. If you want to talk in the middle of the night, anything.”

  “I know,” I say, stepping away from him.

  He leaves my room, closing the door behind him, and I slide into bed under my covers, burying my face in my pillow.

  Tears don’t come, but sleep doesn’t either.

  *****

  I wake up to music.

  Barefoot, I walk into the living room where Dean is playing guitar and softly singing. The music is beautiful. I sit down on the couch opposite him, not wanting him to stop in my presence, but lucky for me he continues to play and sing about unrequited love. The song is hauntingly beautiful. He lifts his gaze from his guitar to me and smiles, and I know right then and there why half the women in the world are in love with him.

  “I hope I didn’t wake you up,” he says as he stops singing but continues to play his instrument.

  “Are you kidding?” I say, grinning. “If I woke up to that every morning I don’t think I’d ever be grumpy, ever. You’re so talented. I mean I knew you were, but this is… wow. What a beautiful song. Is it new?”

  He nods, eyes lighting up. “Yeah, you’re the first to hear it, actually.”

  We share a smile.

  “Don’t stop on my behalf,” I tell him. “Please, continue.”

  He flashes me a smile that shows off those dimples, then continues to play. I watch him in his element, and rem
ember the first time I saw him and his then band play at school. He was good then, but now he is simply amazing. I listen in awe until the song is over, and wait for him to look up at me before I start to clap for him.

  “Everyone is going to love that song,” I tell him, placing my hand over my heart. “There’s so much emotion in it, it’s like I can feel your pain. And when you say that line ‘No one in this world would love you as much as I do….’” I sigh dreamily. “I think I’m going to swoon.”

  Dean throws his head back and laughs. “Sabina Reyes does not swoon.”

  “She might swoon,” I say, lifting my chin. “I know what I’m going to be listening to on repeat as soon as your new album drops.”

  He hesitates, then asks, “Have you listened to the two that are out now?”

  “Of course I have,” I say, smiling warmly at him. “I also watch every performance I’m able to. I keep up to date with all your accomplishments, Dean. Everyone is so proud of you. I’m so proud of you. And no one deserves the success more.”

  He ducks his head, smiling. “It’s going to sound so fucking cliché, but it’s my passion. I can’t see myself doing anything else, and I wouldn’t want to. I’d do it even if I was still busking on the side of the road, and be happy.”

  This guy has one of the best souls I’ve encountered. Whoever ends up with him is going to be one lucky woman.

  “I remember when you were busking,” I say, smirking. “I’d stop by on my way to my office job and give you coffee.”

  “Yeah,” he says, chuckling. “I remember.”

  “Can I ask you something?” I ask, emboldened by our talk.

  “Anything,” he says, putting his guitar down on the couch.

  “Bella Reed,” I ask, arching my brow. “True or false.”

  “So you do read the gossip magazines,” he says, shaking his head at me in amusement. He leans back on my couch and studies me. “What do you think about it?”