LISA

The park is quiet this early in the afternoon, a few families hanging out, minding their own business. Nobody pays me any attention as I stroll toward the picnic tables, hat pulled down low, sunglasses on to avoid eye contact.

I've done live press conferences and walked red carpets, sat through depositions with high-powered attorneys who never hesitated to tear me apart. I went to rehab once... twice… okay, more like five times, sat through countless AA meetings and spilled my soul to the best goddamn shrink over on the west coast. Audition after audition, meetings and negotiations, interviews on press junkets where reporters seemed to not understand what 'no personal questions' meant. I've been around some important people in my life. Even met the president once.

But never, through all that, was I ever as nervous as I am at this moment.

My palms are sweaty. My arm is itching. My wrist hurts like a son of a bitch—I can feel it throbbing along to the beat of my heart.

I think I'm going to be sick, but I suck it up as I head toward the water, where Jennie lingers with our daughter.

I feel like shit, yeah, but nothing's going to get in the way of this… whatever it is. I'll take anything I can get.

"You're here!"

Madison's voice is loud, excited, as she runs up to me, still lugging around bags of kale. Her dark hair falls into her face, her braid coming undone. She blows it away, shoving it out of her eyes, smiling up at me.

"Of course," I say. "Couldn't miss seeing these ducks."

She shoves one of the bags at me, damn near punching me with it. I wince when she hits a bruised rib. It hurts like hell, but I make not a sound as she says, "You can feed them that one, 'cuz I got this one."

I take the bag, hesitating, before pulling the sling off my arm. I'm supposed to keep wearing it for a few more days, but fuck it. Can't do this one-handed. I toss it on the grass, watching as Madison rips her bag open, splitting it down the side and damn near losing all her kale. It starts to spill, and instinct kicks it. My hand darts out, and I grab ahold of it, wincing again as pain stabs up my forearm. "Careful."

"I gots it," she says, matter-of-fact, although she doesn't, leaving a trail of kale around us like Hansel Gretel with breadcrumbs. None will make it to the ducks at the rate we're going.

"Here," I say, struggling as I open the second bag. "Let's trade."

She shrugs, like she doesn't see what the big deal is, but she trades bags with me before heading toward the water. "Come on, I'll show you!"

Met her less than an hour ago and she's already bossing me around. I follow her to the riverbank, where a family of ducks swims in the water.

"What about your mom?" I ask, feeling guilty, like I'm stealing Jennie's morning.

"Mommy doesn't like the ducks. She says I can feed them but I gotta keep them over here 'cuz they might eat her."

I laugh at that, my gaze seeking out Jennie as she sits at a picnic table, watching us. "Guess some things never change."

"Like what?"

I look at Madison. "Huh?"

"What things never change?"

"People," I say. "Or some people, anyway. Your mom hasn't changed much."

Still the beautiful, savvy woman she always was. Even at seventeen, when she first came into my life, she felt so much more put together than everyone else, but her quirks are still there.

"You know my mommy?" Madison asks, her brow furrowing.

"Yeah," I say. "We used to know each other well."

Madison seems to mull that over as she closes the rest of the distance to the river, grabbing a handful of kale from her bag and launching it overhead, into the water. The ducks don't hesitate, rushing right for it. It's gone in an instant, and she throws another handful as they flood up onto the riverbank, making a ruckus.

"Jesus Christ," I say when the ducks surround us, trying to rip the bag out of my hand as Madison giggles, throwing handful after handful, not bothered in the slightest.

Panicked, I turn the bag over and fucking dump it out, right on the ground, taking a few steps back. Madison does the same, watching me, sprinkling her kale on top of them.

"You're right," I say. "They like it."

"Told you so," she says, crumbling the bag up into a ball as she looks for somewhere to put it.

I take it. "I can throw it away."

"Thank you, Breezeo."

That's all she says before darting away, running around, playing as some ducks follow her, even though she doesn't have the kale. I grab my sling and toss the empty bags into a trashcan before approaching Jennie. She doesn't look at me, doesn't say a word, sipping juice as she watches Madison from afar.

"Crazy," I mumble. "It's like she's just this tiny person."

"She is," Jennie says. "Were you expecting something different?"

"I don't know that I expected anything. I just—"

"I know."

She cuts me off before I can finish. Does she know? Maybe. But there's sharpness to her voice that tells me she doesn't want to talk about it, so I don't finish that sentence.

"Thank you for inviting me," I say. "I know this isn't easy for you."

"It doesn't matter how I feel," she says. "You and I are long over, Lalisa. All that matters is Maddie."

The way she says that stings. "Well, still, thank you."

She nods, whispering, "Don't make me regret it."

I hope like hell I don't.

Madison runs over, breathing heavily, waving her hands all around as she stammers out some half-sentences. Jennie grabs a juice box, poking a straw in it before handing it to her. The girl sucks it down in one gulp.

"Do you have your suit?" she asks suddenly as she squeezes the empty box, crushing it.

The question catches me off guard. "What?"

"For Breezeo. Do you have the suit or no?"

"Uh, no," I say. "Not with me."

"Where is it at?"

"In a wardrobe trailer somewhere, I imagine. Why?"

She shrugs, giving the juice box to her mother. "Does it work? Does it go all invisible for real?"

"No, it's a normal costume."

"And you don't go all invisible?"

"No," I say. "I'm normal, too."

She scowls. I feel like I'm telling the kid Santa isn't real.

"But you're a hero," she says. "I seen it on the TV, so maybe you don't gotta disappear, so then you can stay and don't have to go away now."

Those words are a punch to the chest. I blink at her, not sure if she means that how it sounds, but I'm verbally getting my ass kicked this afternoon.

"We read part of Ghosted the other day," Jennie chimes in. "She isn't happy that Breezeo leaves at the end."

The explanation doesn't make it much better. Sighing, I sit down on the edge of the picnic table. "Yeah, I always thought that sucked. Sure, she thought it was for the best, but I figured they would've given her a happy ending."

"She should come back," Madison says. "Then she can get better and they'll be happy."

She's hitting way too close to home with this shit, and she doesn't even know it. "Huh, maybe you should've written the story."

Madison's eyes widen, her face lighting up with a smile. Her expression makes my goddamn heart act up. She's beautiful, this kid—even more beautiful than I ever could've dreamed of. There's a spark inside of her, one that echoes inside of me, the kind of spark I haven't felt in a long time.

"I can do that!" she says. "I can fix it!"

Jennie laughs. "I'm sure you can."

Madison is off again, running around. I sit there in silence, watching her play. A few minutes pass before my phone rings in my pocket. I dig it out. Sehun.

"Yeah?" I answer flippantly.

"Hey!" Sehun says, sounding way too enthusiastic. "How's our hero feeling this afternoon?"

"Depends."

"On what?"

"On what you want."

"Just checking in to see how you're holding up."

"In that case, I'm doing fine."

"Good," he says. "Any less of a moody prick?"

"Maybe a bit."

"Well, every little bit counts."

He laughs.

Sehun doesn't laugh.

"Anyway, I didn't get the chance to check in with you after you got discharged," he says. "You back home in LA now?"

"No, I decided to, you know... stick around."

"Stick around," he says. "You're still here in the city?"

"Uh, close to it."

It doesn't take him long to realize what I mean. "You didn't. Seriously, tell me you aren't where I think you are right now."

"I am."

He huffs. "We go through this every time you go there. Every single time."

We do. Usually, I spiral after showing up in Bennett Landing. I'd go on a bender and binge my heart out and not stop until I was so fucking numb someone could've shot me and I wouldn't have felt it. And after I pulled myself together, the lecture would come—I'm playing with fire, it's a PR nightmare, imagine what will happen if word gets out…

Imagine if the paparazzi show up there. Imagine if they invade her life the way they do yours. Imagine them stalking your daughter at school. Imagine the stories they'll print about the kid you abandoned. Imagine what it'll do to you when they call you a deadbeat parent.

"It's fine," I say. "Nobody knows I'm here."

"You're supposed to be taking it easy."

"Stop worrying. I'm not going to do anything stupid."

"You better not," he says. "Rosé's causing enough trouble right now."

I sigh, lowering my head. "What now?"

"She checked into rehab."

That isn't what I expected him to say, but I'm not surprised. "Was it voluntary?"

"Sure," he says, "if you consider all those times you went to be voluntary."

Not even close.

"She was getting out of hand," he says. "Figured it was a good time for her to get some help."

"Good," I say. "Hope it works out."

"You and me both."

"So, that's it? Nothing else?"

"No," he says. "Unless you have anything to share?"

I end the call without humoring that and shove the phone in my pocket, looking over at Madison. I'm not going to jinx myself. Today was a happy accident. I'm not sure what happens next.

"Let me guess," Jennie says. "Your wife?"

"I told you I don't have one of those."

"I bet you tell people you don't have a daughter too, huh?"

I cut my eyes at her. Bitterness drips from every one of those words. "Nobody ever asks."

"But you don't offer the information up, either."

"I would," I say. "I will, if you want me to. I'll call up a reporter right now and give them an exclusive. But just know, by tomorrow morning, they'll be banging down your door. They'll be hiding in the bushes, climbing trees, looking through windows, clambering to get pictures. Hollywood Chronicles will have you on the front page by next week. Is that what you want?"

She doesn't answer.

Of course it's not.

It's inevitable. Someday, they'll find out. I just hope we have time to figure things out before that happens, time for me to get to know my daughter and earn Jennie's trust before the vultures swoop in and try to fuck it all up.

"Maddie!" she hollers, standing up. "We need to get going, sweetheart!"

"Don't," I say right away. "Please don't leave."

"I have things to do," she says.

"Just twenty more minutes," I say. "Ten minutes."

"I would, but…"

Jennie trails off as Madison runs up to us, her hair wild now. "Do we have to leave, Mommy?"

"We have to go to Grandpa's, remember? We told him we'd come over."

"Can she come, too?" Madison asks her before turning to me. "Will you come?"

"To your grandfather's house?"

"Yep! Grandpa will like you, 'cuz he watches Breezeo, too!"

Jennie laughs under her breath as she gathers their stuff.

"I don't think that's a good idea," I say. "Maybe another time."

She looks disappointed, pouting. I want to take it back. I want to tell her I'll go anywhere she wants me to go, even if that means visiting a man who once said he'd cut off my nuts if I ever stepped foot in his house again. I've shown up a few times since then, never brave enough to go inside, but I'd do it for her.

I'd grow big enough balls to risk him taking them. Snip, snip.

"Oh, don't even try those puppy dog eyes on her," Jennie says, playfully grasping Madison's chin, her fingers squeezing her chubby cheeks. "She's way too smart to fall for it."

"But she can come next time?" Maddie asks.

"Maybe," Jennie says. "We'll see."

I open my mouth to say goodbye, but Madison lunges at me before I can. She wraps her arms around my neck, and my heart fucking aches as I hug her. It's over quickly, way too quickly, as she pulls away. "Thank you, Breezeo!"

"Lalisa," Jennie corrects her.

"Lalisa," Madison says, "but still Breezeo, too."

"You're welcome, Maddie," I say. "Thank you for letting me feed the ducks."

Jennie grabs Madison's hand, lingering there for a moment. I can tell she wants to say something. Her lips part, but all that comes out is a sigh before she walks off.