Jennie

I am going to kill Irene. Okay, that's untrue. I can barely manage killing a spider, but I'm going to be very annoyed with her for at least the rest of today. I take several deep breaths as the elevator counts down the floors to the lobby.

I would really like to be less anxious right now. My palms are insanely sweaty. Actually, a lot of parts of me are sweaty. I check my reflection in the surrounding mirrors, making sure the concealer I dabbed under my eyes is blended in properly. This morning I got into the elevator and realized it was still smeared in a line—like those black lines football players have, except it was flesh colored.

The elevator doors slide open, and I step into the lobby, murmuring hello to people getting on. And, of course, one of them happens to be Mino. Instead of getting on the elevator, he lets everyone else pile in and pulls me into a hug.

Through the window across the lobby I can see Lali, hands jammed into her pockets, watching the exchange with narrowed eyes. I release Mino first and take a step back, which makes him take a step forward. He's weird about personal space.

"You look nice—are you going somewhere?" Mino fingers the end of my braid, which also puts his hand close to my boob.

I glance toward the window again. Lali's face is practically pressed up against it, and if she had superpowers, I would bet that laser beams would be shooting out of her eyes right now and Mino would be minus a hand.

"Just coffee with a friend."

"Lucky friend." He gives me an exaggerated wink. "Will you be around later? Maybe I could come by and we could watch an episode of Jeopardy! together."

"Oh, um, can I take a rain check? I'm not sure how long I'll be out, and I haven't been sleeping all that well the last few nights."

His smile drops. "Sure, of course. You can call if you change your mind. I have a bag of sweet-and-salty popcorn and some of that special mint hot chocolate you're always drinking."

"That sounds nice." I push the elevator button for him. "I'll call you later."

"Sounds great." He leans in and kisses me on the cheek before I can run away.

Thankfully, the elevator dings.

Lali is waiting outside the front doors for me. I glance over my shoulder, relieved to see that Mino is already in the elevator. He lifts her hand in a parting wave at the same time as Lali pulls me in for a brief hug. Mino's smile slides off his face like an egg off a nonstick pan as he disappears behind the elevator doors.

"Friend of yours?" Lali asks, obviously referring to Mino.

"Yes. He is." I adjust my purse. I want to tack on that it really isn't any of her business, but I refrain.

"Does he work in IT or something?"

I frown. "How did you know that?"

He smirks. "Lucky guess."

"Mino is nice. Not everyone is built like a Greek god and gets to be a celebrity." As if I need to stroke her ego. Based on everything I've seen in my internet searches—which is all I have to go on, since I have no idea where the lies end with her—she and a good percentage of the female population of Chicago know how amazing her body is. I push past her and head for the coffee shop next door. I know the baristas here, and there are always a lot of regulars, so it feels like a safe space.

Lali grabs my hand. "Sorry. I'm just . . . jealous and being petty."

I purse my lips and try not to let the butterflies in my stomach get the best of me.

Lali puts her hand on the small of my back, inciting another storm of butterflies. She also opens the door for me and pays for our coffees and pastries, although I order a decaf tea because I'm already having enough trouble sleeping these days without hopping myself up on caffeine at dinnertime.

She picks out a table in the corner, and we settle into our seats. I'm barely out of my jacket when two teenage boys approach us asking for autographs. For the next half hour Lali is bombarded every two minutes by another group of people asking to take pictures and wanting an autograph. Teenagers, college kids, adult men, and fawning women who rudely drool all over her with me sitting right there across the table. It's incredibly overwhelming. And enlightening.

This is her life. This is what happens to her every time she goes out in this city. It's what she knows, and I have to assume it's much worse depending on where she is and who's around her. I consider all the pictures I've found since I discovered her true identity, and a very small part of me can understand how difficult it would be to have a relationship that involves any kind of equity.

She would never know if she was wanted by someone because of her fame or because of who she really is. And isn't that another question I don't have an answer to? The one I was with in Alaska was kind and sweet and down-to-earth. But this . . . it's completely different. And this is what her life is really like.

I move aside, unable to handle the number of people clamoring to get close to her, and allow her fans to mob her while I observe from the sidelines. Lali is gracious and accommodating and charismatic, but I can sense her frustration by the tic in her cheek as more people gather for selfies. Finally, once everyone has had their picture taken and she's signed all the hats and random pieces of paper people shove at her—and even a couple of magazine spreads—she gives me a pained smile. "Is there somewhere we can go that's a little less openly public? I should've worn a ball cap—it helps make me less identifiable."

"There's a park not too far from here. We could go there?" I offer. she can't come up to my apartment. Not yet. Maybe not ever, depending.

I use the bathroom before we leave, and when I return Lali has fresh hot drinks for us in take-out cups. I don't know what to think about this entire situation. Mino is nice, he doesn't travel for work, and he doesn't make a scene or get mobbed when we go out in public. And he's been very accepting of my current situation and my obvious reluctance to get into a relationship.

I decide I need to just be honest with Lali—it's really the only way I'll know for sure what her real intentions are. If she can't handle the truth, then she'll disappear from my life again, and that will be that.

We find a secluded bench in the park down the street from my house. There are parents seated on the other side, near the play structure, but otherwise it's peaceful.

"I'm sorry about that. I probably should've suggested we just come to a park in the first place. It's not always this intense, but the season is starting soon, so we're getting a lot of promo. I've been trying to stay off the media radar, but being team captain makes it tough." She stretches her arm across the back of the bench, fingers brushing my shoulder.

"Can I ask you something?" I fidget with the sleeve on my cup, picking at the edge so I don't have to look at her. She's just so disarmingly beautiful.

"Yeah, of course."

"I don't understand why you're so intent on pursuing me when you could have anyone you want. What am I to you, other than the woman you pretended to be someone else with for a handful of weeks?"

"That's the thing, though, Jennie. I wasn't pretending to be someone else. Yes, I lied about my job, but everything else was me—you got the real me."

"But did I really? Because what I saw back there, isn't that the real you? Is that what happens to you whenever you go somewhere and people recognize you?"

"I just wanted someone to see me, authentically see me, and I felt like you did. I never felt more like myself than I did when I was with you."

I consider that—and how, for those weeks I was with her, I'd felt like the best version of myself. She made me feel safe and special and important. "I have to tell you something." I clutch my tea, trying to find the resolve to spit the words out. I can't decide anymore if I want her to still be the one I spent those weeks with or the lying jerk who recently dropped back into my life. Both are complicated for very different reasons.

"Okay. I'm listening."

I shift, turning toward her, knowing I need to see her reaction when I tell her this, because for better or worse, it will change everything.

"I have a son."