FORTY EIGHT - LEXIE

After leaving Ryder’s, I wandered aimlessly through the streets of LA, my feet moving on their own as my mind spun in circles. I wasn’t ready to go back to Samantha’s condo—not yet. It was too full of memories, too much of him still lingering in the air. I needed space. Somewhere else. Anywhere else. But when the rain started, soft at first, then heavier, I gave up. I had no choice but to head back. I walked past Ryder’s apartment building, forcing myself to stare straight ahead, my heart pounding in my chest. I wouldn’t look up at the penthouse, wouldn’t let myself picture him looking down at me from the balcony, feeling the same emptiness that had swallowed me whole. I wouldn’t glance into the lobby, hoping for one last glimpse of him—hoping to hear him call my name, the night breaking open with an apology, an explanation. My mind, though, betrayed me. It painted a scene, vivid as a movie: Ryder chasing after me in the rain, pulling me into his arms, whispering how sorry he was, how