I had this chapter written months ago! Ahh!

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"Hey, hey, hey, I was saving those strawberries," Paul griped at me as I was making a smoothie.

"Sorry," I mumbled before I turned the blender on anyway. Things were not better after that weekend in South Cairo. We got back and I had decided that I would make an active effort to be home more, but we were kind of tiptoeing around each other. "Do you want some?"

"Will you go get me more strawberries from the produce stand?" he attempted to joke.

"Yeah, I'll grab some before I leave for class," I said dispirited as I cleaned up my mess.

He sighed before putting his hands on my hips and twisting me until I was facing him. "I was kidding. It's fine," he said. He was trying to catch my eye, but I couldn't bring myself to look him in the eye. "I said I was sorry, Lee…"

"Please don't apologize again. I can't—"

"How long are you going to stay mad at me then?" he asked. "What can I do?"

Honestly, the answer was nothing. Because I wasn't mad at him; it was more like I was questioning everything that I had been doing in this relationship. I kept thinking about that day on the beach when I asked Paul to come with me. We had promised each other that we would always figure it out, no matter what. What I wasn't anticipating were the long man hours that college would demand. I thought we had been stronger than petty accusations and needing to know where the other was at all times.

What I wanted to know now was what I could do to make him feel more secure. So I made myself look him in the eye and say, "I love you so much."

"I love you too," he replied a little hesitantly.

"I never want you to think otherwise. My feelings are a little bruised, I can't lie. But just the way I have always put trust in you, I want trust too."

"You're right," he nodded. "I don't know what was wrong with me. I was out of my mind."

I held his face with both of my hands, "I don't care about Julian. I don't care what he can do for me. I care about you and what makes you happy." I told him.

"You make me happy. Us together makes me happy."

"Me too," I smiled softly at him. And I meant it. I meant every word.

He dipped down to kiss me. "Can I fix your smoothie now? You didn't make it right," he said against my lips.

I rolled my eyes playfully as I chuckled under my breath, "Yeah, go for it."

My relationship with Paul was a complete 180 from my relationship with Sam. And I thanked every single star that that was the case. I remember having to beg Sam to tell me what was on his mind at any given time only for him to shut me down in the most debilitating ways possible. When we were in the honeymoon phase, it didn't affect me as much, but as soon as that wore off, it was like every day I was losing part of myself.

With Paul, I had never felt more of who I truly was than when I was with him. He inspired me; he brought out the creativity that had been buried for so long. And, while I wanted to keep feeding that creativity, I didn't want to do anything that would risk that.

Speaking of things that would risk that, there was something on my mind that I couldn't shake. I hopped on the counter next to Paul as he doctored my smoothie. He put in some honey, a handful of spinach, some milk, a dash of salt. "Why do you think Adriana plays along with Julian's game?" I asked curiously.

Paul twisted his face in disdain. "Are we still talking about that guy?"

"No, no, no, think about it for a sec," I said. "There has to be some reason she keeps hanging around him. It can't just be because they're working together. There are hundreds, if not thousands, of photographers in the city of New York. Why keep modeling for him?"

He shrugged, "Loyalty goes a long way in a big city like this," he said. He held out a spoon for me to taste. It was delicious, just like everything Paul made. He poured some of the smoothie into two glasses and handed me one. "I wouldn't read too much into though, babe. We're still new around here. He won't be the only opportunity you have to be in a gallery."

I pursed my lips as I contemplated for a second, "Honestly, I need to start focusing on my art history, not my photography," I said as my phone started to ring. Adriana's smizing face looked up at me. "It's almost like she knew we were talking about her," I mumbled before silencing it.

"Go ahead and get it, sweetheart," Paul told me. "It could be important."

I studied his face for a second. If it was Sam, it would have been a test. Paul was my biggest cheerleader; he was willing to put his own feelings to the side for a phone call that may or may not be important. He picked up my phone and swiped to answer it. He pressed the speaker button before handing it to me, teasingly daring me to challenge him. I gritted my teeth a little before saying, "Hey Ana."

"Hey cutie pie! How was your sexy weekend with the chef?" she asked, cheerfully.

"It was, uh, quiet," I answered, honestly. "What's up?"

"You have a date," she started. "Kyle, the gallerist, wants us to have a cute little meeting this Saturday. He just rented a new gallery space in Manhattan. Chef can come too, if he wants. Julian can't make it though; he has a thing. What do you think?"

I didn't say anything as I thought about the offer. Paul made a cutting gesture with his hand. I put the phone on mute and looked up at him to explain. "I have to work this weekend," he explained. "Rich Upper East Siders won't serve themselves."

"I can reschedule," I offered. He shook his head. I cocked an eyebrow before unmuting the phone. "Can we do next weekend instead, Ana?"

"No can do, baby doll," she answered. "Kyle is going to Italy for a month; he leaves on Wednesday."

"Shit," I cursed quietly. Paul gave me that look. The "don't be stupid" look. "Alright, this Saturday it is."

"Amaze! You can meet us at the place in Hell's Kitchen at 7. I'll text you the address. Kisses, babe!" Then she hung up.

I sighed as I set my phone down. I tapped my fingernails on the counter as I tried to process that conversation. Do things really happen this fast around here? "I can cancel, if you start to feel uncomfortable," I told Paul.

He put his hands on either side of my head and kissed me on top of my head. "I trust you," he said.

XXXXXXXXX

I tried to shake the nerves as I shook out my freshly curled hair. The vibe for the night was as curated as a museum display. The hair, the makeup, the outfit was all perfectly put together so I could make a good impression. Paul walked into the bathroom and looked me up and down, "Wow," he smiled. "I don't think I'll ever get used to how beautiful you are."

I suppressed a smile. "Kiss ass," I joked.

"Don't mind if I do," he shrugged, bending down. I pushed his face away from my butt with a laugh. He chuckled before wrapping his arms around my waist. "Are you feeling confident?"

I scrunched my nose apprehensively. "Not really," I admitted. I fluffed my hair more, willing it to do what I wanted. "What if he doesn't like me?"

Paul shrugged, "His loss then." I glared at him in the mirror. "Look, Leah, no one in the history of the world has ever not liked you upon first meeting. You're stressing for no reason."

"I should cancel," I pondered.

"Absolutely not," he shook his head. "If you cancel and I go to work this event, no one will be here to talk you down when you spiral for cancelling. So, for my sake and your own, you're going and you'll have a great time. Scout's honor."

"And if you're wrong?"

"I'm never wrong," he said casually as he left the bathroom.

"Well, that's completely not true," I cracked back, hearing him chuckle from the bedroom. I looked at myself in the mirror one more time before forcing myself out of the bathroom to get dressed.

We left at the same time, taking the 2 in opposite directions. I waved at him from the other platform, blowing him a kiss as my train approached. "Good luck," he mouthed with a wink.

My feet were already killing me by the time I made it to Hell's Kitchen. My black, over the knee, heeled boots seemed like a good idea in theory, but, in practice, I hadn't broken them in yet and I could feel each of my toes as they begged me to put them out of their misery.

Adriana and I were walking up at the same time. She had a garment bag in one hand and was furiously texting with the other. She looked up and grinned at me, "Oh my gosh, my little Clearwater! So good to see you," she crooned as she hugged me quickly. She led me inside like it was the most casual thing in the world. Like we were going to get coffee or something. "Kyle, honey! We're here!" she called as we walked in.

I think it went well. The space was completely vacant and still needed to be cleaned, but the gallerist was a really cool guy. He spent the first 20 minutes telling me how he poured over my proofs for days when Julian sent them over. He told me he was the one who insisted that they include at least two of them for the opening because he thought they were that good.

Kyle said that he was looking for a new theme for his next opening. He was looking for something with a little more edge and a little more grace. His words, not mine. I asked if those words were kind of…opposite. All Adriana said was, "They can be. Or they can be really complementary."

The gallery would incorporate three other unknown artists, but he wanted my work to be the main attraction. I was admittedly overwhelmed, but flattered. I told him I would definitely have to think about it.

"Take all the time you need," he said as he handed me his card. "I've enjoyed everything I've seen from you so far."

"Thank you," I blushed.

"Now, if you both will excuse me, I have to pop my head in at this event before it gets too late. Julian's there already, right, Adriana?" he said as he grabbed what looked to be a suit jacket from a folding chair.

She nodded as she started texting again, "Yeah, they're just doing cocktail hour right now."

"Are you going?" Kyle asked me.

"Me? No," I shook my head. "I should head home soon actually."

"I mean, you don't have to," Adriana said, gesturing to the garment bag she walked in with. "I brought two dresses; I was going to convince you to come with me."

"You have to come, Leah. It's a great opportunity to get your face out there and meet people. These kind of parties only happen once in a blue moon," Kyle said.

I felt myself stumbling over my words. This was not in the plan. "I-I—how do you know that dress will even fit?" I asked.

Adriana looked me up and down, "Size 6? 8.5 shoe?" My eyes widened in shock. "That's what I thought. Come on, I've already called a car."

I don't know what to say other than I started to have this out of body experience. Like my own brain was starting to reject what was happening around me. Somehow, everything that happened this summer with Paul phasing felt relatively normal compared to this Gossip Girl/Sex and the City fever dream I've been dropped in the middle of.

Honestly…I was torn right down the middle. I liked it as much as I hated it. "This is crazy," I whispered to Adriana as we walked through the lobby into the bathroom. "I shouldn't be here."

"Why not?" she asked coolly. I couldn't help but notice her change in demeanor tonight. She wasn't showering me with compliments or cutesy nicknames as she usually did. Her eyes were abnormally indifferent as she shed her clothes quickly and slipped into a floor length dress. Blood red, of course. Like the day I met her. "This is business, Leah. Either piss or get off the pot. If you keep shying away from shit, you won't get anywhere in this city."

I weighed my options for way too long. The emerald green dress was beautiful, sitting there in the garment bag.

"The editor-in-chief of Cosmo is here," Adriana continued, the familiar light coming back to her voice. "If I can get 5 whole seconds with her, it would change my life."

"What even is this party?" I asked as I tentatively slipped off my clothes and into the dress. It fit perfectly; how did she know my size?

She shrugged, "Every once and a while, all of these influentials in the arts get together for some fill-in-the-blank charity. So book publishers, art dealers, modeling agencies, fashion people, they all get together to dress up and network. They're not all in the 1%, but it's like the closest thing you'd get to like secret society life. These parties are super exclusive because they don't want just any run of the mill people here. They only want the best of the best and up and comers. That's us."

"The up and comers?" I repeated.

"Yup," Adriana said as she ran a hand through her straightened hair. She turned to me with a serious look on her face. "You're going to have to keep up, Leah. Or you will fall behind and they will forget about you." Her voice was so serious. "Put your hair in a half up so people can see your face."

No part of this was exciting for me. We walked into the ballroom of the hotel and it was totally decked out. People kissing both cheeks and politely laughing just a little too hard at things that probably weren't that funny. I felt like a fish out of water. Adriana laced our hands together and walked us further into the room as if it was the most natural thing in the world. She approached Julian before I could object. He turned with a smile and kissed her on the cheek, "It's about time," he charmed. He looked just past her at me, "Welcome. Surprised to see you here."

"You don't look that surprised," I remarked through a tight smile.

Julian chuckled to himself, knowingly. "You look really nice tonight. Let me introduce you around."

Adriana stayed for the first few rounds of introductions. Photographers and models go hand in hand, so the more photographers Julian introduced us to, the more she could offer to model for them. But she'd always been open that modeling wasn't her endgame. She wanted to work for Vogue or Cosmo or Glamour. Any of the fashion magazines so she could be the one to tell you what's trending. So, once she spotted the editor-in-chief of one of those magazines, she disappeared quickly and silently.

Then it was just me…and Julian. I was planning my escape while some art dealer was rattling on and on about his travels, which would have been impressive if he didn't sound like such an asshole. I was giving myself ten more minutes before I excused myself. And then I felt it. That familiar exuding heat. And when I turned around, there he was.

Paul looked at me like I was a complete stranger. And…I felt like one. It made me so sick. I wish I was being dramatic; I felt like a stranger in my own body. In this dress. At this place. With these people. This person, in particular. Julian and Adriana had taken me totally out of my real life and were parading me around in front of a bunch of art world professionals like I was some prop.

Paul looked down at his tray before back up at me, "Champagne?" he asked.

The lump in my throat was hard to swallow down. All I could do was shake my head and choke out, "N-No thank you."

Julian grabbed a flute as he continued to talk with the art dealer. He quickly turned to Paul and asked, "Can you get the little lady here a club soda? Thanks." He didn't wait for an answer before he turned his back to Paul. Julian didn't even recognize him. He didn't even bother.

"Coming right up," Paul said monotonously.

When he walked away, it felt like my heart was being ripped out of my chest. Before I could think, my feet followed him, ignoring the conversation and any questions aimed toward me. Paul was standing at the bar with his forearms resting on the hardwood. He was chatting with Kristina who was bartending. I saw him shake his head before his shoulders shook a bit with humorless laughter.

I remember touching his arm when I reached him, and he almost recoiled from me. Kristina glanced between us curiously before asking me, "What can I get you, sweetie?"

"Nothing for me, thanks," I answered, still looking at Paul. "Can we talk?"

"I'm working," he sniped. "And so are you. You shouldn't be over here, Leah."

"Paul, come on. Let's talk about this."

He shook his head again, "There's nothing to talk about. You're doing your thing; you're networking or whatever. I respect your hustle."

"This isn't a hustle," I tried to explain. "Adriana asked me if I wanted to come at the last minute. I didn't plan for this."

"It's funny how I don't see Adriana at all, but I see someone—that's not me—leading my girlfriend by the waist to meet people." His eyes narrowed at me in contempt. Paul had never looked at me like that. I've known him my whole life and never once have I been on the other end of that look.

"First of all, she's over there," I pointed across the room where Ana was being her typical, charming self. "You don't see that bright red in this sea of boring?"

Kris leaned forward, "Guys, don't do this here."

"Why are you here?" he asked, lowering his voice.

"Trust me, I've been trying really hard not to be. I've been looking for an out since I got here," I told him. I grabbed his hand. "Come outside."

I managed to get him outside of the hotel, onto the sidewalk, away from any listening ears. His jaw ticked with frustration as he pressed his back against the brick wall. He was looking everywhere else, not at me. "What's going on, Lee?" he started.

I looked down at myself and shrugged pathetically, "I don't know."

He scoffed, "Don't bullshit me. Yes, you do."

"No, I don't, Paul," I tried to say as he talked over me.

"You do, Leah! You just don't want to say it out loud!" he exclaimed as he threw his hands up. He studied me from head to toe with his eyebrows drawn. "This isn't you. This isn't what we came here for. What was that in there?"

I didn't know what to say. He was right. None of this was me. The dress fit, but it was uncomfortable. My fucking feet hurt. Still. I didn't want to be caught up in all of this.

"I know you better than anyone, Leah. You've always taken charge of your own shit. But here you are, letting some artsy, rich douchebag make you a show pony."

"I-It's complicated," I stuttered, thinking about what Adriana said in the bathroom.

"It's not complicated," he argued. "You said you wanted to do this your own way. You are damn talented and you know it. Knowing every single person in there, who are just like Julian, isn't doing it your way, Leah."

"You don't get it!" I blurted. "All I've been hearing from Adriana is that I need to show up. I need to put my face out there or I don't have a chance. She scared me, ok? What do you want from me?!"

"I want you to act like you!" Paul exclaimed. "Be the girl that I fell in love with. The smart, beautiful, confident girl who has never taken shit from anyone. Be that girl."

I just stared at him, utterly speechless.

He shrugged as he continued, "And if you don't want to be that girl anymore, at least be honest that this—," he gestured toward the building, the valet, the people in tuxes and ball gowns, "—is what you want."

"But it's not," I choked out.

"I can't tell," he said. He sighed hard before pushing himself off the wall. "I need to go for a run…or something. Just…get home safe, please."

He started to walk away when I called out, "Paul." He looked back but only for a second. "Paul please…"

It was useless. He cut into Central Park and disappeared into the night.

I stood outside the hotel, just letting the cold air wash over my whole body. I kicked off the shoes and put my hair in a bun on top of my head.

"Are you alright, honey?" I heard from a few feet away. Adriana and Julian were standing together. There was no concern on their faces, no sympathy. Nothing.

"Let me call you a car, Leah," Julian offered.

"Please don't," I snapped at him. "I can walk home. Just stay away from me."

XXXXXXXXX

There are times when you just know when your life is about to be changed forever. It's a feeling or intuition or something. But even when you try to ignore it, it always nags at you.

I was already having a bad morning. As I rushed to class, I stopped by the coffee cart to grab something quick before my lit humanities class. My phone rang in my bag as I tried to get the lid to stay on the cup. "Shit…" I cursed as I set the cup down on a low bench and dug for my phone. I answered without looking, "Hello?" I sounded disgruntled probably.

"Hey, baby girl, is this a bad time?" my dad's sweet voice rang from the other side.

"Uh, kinda," I said honestly. "What's up?"

"Oh, I didn't want anything. I just wanted to check on you. I hardly hear from you these days," he said, attempting to sound casual.

I laughed a little, "Dad, it's been like a week."

"Well, that's a long time, Lee! Sue me! I'm getting old!"

I shook my head at his antics before picking up my coffee and walking toward my building. "There's no way you're getting old. You don't look a day over 25," I joked.

"Now you're being too nice to me."

I lifted my cup to my lips and felt the hot liquid spill down my top. I gasped, "Oh, shi—uh, crap!" I exclaimed, trying not to curse. "Dad, I gotta call you back."

I hung up quickly and dabbed at the hot coffee on my white shirt. Just add it to the list of why this morning fucking sucks. I dropped the cup in the nearest garbage can out of frustration and mumbled to myself as I aired myself out. My skin was now scalding, and Paul didn't come home Saturday or Sunday night, and I was late for class.

It was just one thing after another, and I couldn't get out of my own head. I plopped my butt in my chair in a huff, pulling out my notebook and a pen to take notes. Nina looked at me, concerned, "What's up with you?" she asked.

I pointed to the giant stain down the front of me. "It's like the universe is laughing at me."

"Oh, poor girl," Nina pouted. She reached on the other side of her and handed me her Columbia sweatshirt. I quickly pulled it over my head, mumbling a 'thanks.' "Are you ready for the test at least?"

My head snapped up at the mention of a test. I groaned as I smacked myself on the forehead. "I completely forgot," I told her. "What am I gonna do?"

"Make a run for it," she joked. Then she shook her head and dropped her voice, "Just…do your best. And, if you're having trouble, just look over here."

"You're a saint," I sighed as Professor Davis walked into the hall.

Dante's Inferno was probably the worst piece of literature to be unprepared for. I did my best. I remember peaking at Nina's test and feeling guilty. I never wanted to cheat. So, I tried my best; hopefully my best was good enough to get me through the rest of the semester.

Every few seconds, my mind would wander to Paul. Is he alright? Where did he go? Why hasn't he called yet? I finished my test and left the lecture hall as quickly as possible. I tried to call Paul again and got his voicemail once again. I waited on the bench outside for Nina, texting Bex while I waited. He hasn't even texted or called me, I typed.

It only took a minute for Bex to reply. I'm sure there's nothing to worry about. He's probably just cooling off.

I just wish he would at least tell me where he is.

I'm sorry, babe. Call me when you get home? Love you.

Love you more. Miss you too much. I replied before pocketing my phone.

It was nearing 6 pm when I finally decided to head back to the apartment so I could maybe make it home before Paul. I stopped at Eataly, his favorite place, to pick up some dinner for both of us. Maybe good food will take the edge off. Bolognese for him, chickpea salad for me, tiramisu to split.

I felt this strange rush of sorrow run through me as soon as I stepped on the street from the train. I brushed it off and pulled my phone out of my bag. I had one missed call from my dad earlier this afternoon, three from my mom, and four from my brother. I opted to call Rebecca instead. "It's the love of my life!" she answered cheerfully.

I smiled at her voice. "God, it's been way too long. Why do we wait so long to talk?"

"We're both busy ladies now. We've officially crossed over into 'We need to catch up soon' friends," she joked.

"Never that," I reassured her as I unlocked the door to the apartment. "I don't care where I am or what I'm doing. I'll always answer for you."

Bex fake sniffled as if she was crying, "You're just so good to me."

It was pitch dark in the apartment and nothing had moved since I left this morning. I was hoping that there was something—anything—to indicate that I wasn't the only person that was in this house in the last 24 hours. "Honey, I'm home," I said bitterly. "Oh wait, it's just me."

"He still hasn't called?" Bex asked, exasperated.

"Not a call, not a text, not a bat or smoke signal," I rolled my eyes as I set our paper bag full of dinner on the counter. "Maybe he wound up in a ditch."

"I'm pretty sure there are no ditches in New York," Becca commented. "He can't be that mad at you."

"You don't even know," I shook my head. I started to put the food on plates so it would be ready if he walked in the door. "I've just never seen him look at me that way. Like I was a completely different person to him. It was awful."

"You know Paul more than anyone in the world. You know how prideful he is. I think it's just his ego; I'm sure it wasn't easy to be serving his girlfriend that way."

I sighed and stopped in my tracks, feeling defeated. "I don't know, Bex. It felt like…something different." There was a knock at the door at that moment. I wiped the crumbs from the garlic bread on my jeans as I moved toward the door. What I was expecting was Adriana or Nina or maybe Paul if he locked himself out by mistake. What I wasn't expecting when I swung open my front door was… "Jared?"

"Jared?" Bex repeated in confusion on the phone.

Jared was standing on the other side of the threshold with a grave look on his face. Standing behind him was Embry and… "Jacob?" I breathed.

Little Jacob Black was standing in front of me, big and tall and mean. The day that Paul phased came flooding back to me and my heart dropped at the thought of my best friends' little brother going through something like that. What was it? Was it fear? Was it anger? I couldn't even imagine Jacob being angry enough at anything to phase, but here he was standing in front of me, guarded and troubled.

"Jacob?" Bex repeated, surprised at hearing her brother's name. "What is Jacob doing there?"

I ignored her as I waved the three of them in. My stomach was already in my throat. "Come in, come in."

They stepped inside, wordlessly, and looked around. "Hellooo? What's going on?" I could hear Bex on the other line.

"Do you guys want something? Water or…food?"

"Ooh, what kind of food?" Embry perked up.

Jacob punched him in the chest. "That's not why we're here."

"Never mind," Embry deflated.

"Why are you guys here? Paul's not home. You guys are more than welcome to wait for him if it's important." I told them.

"Leah, you should sit down," Jared said to me, finally. He looked so sad and remorseful.

I gestured toward the living room and watched as Embry dropped into our thrifted, ugly, orange armchair, Jacob pulled up a kitchen chair, and Jared carefully sat next to me on the couch. I didn't want to think about what they were doing here. "Is everything ok?" I asked.

And that's when my entire life turned upside down. Whatever I was expecting them to say, it sure wasn't what they told me. It was like the rug had been ripped out from under me and all I could feel was my chest caving in. I don't remember dropping my cell phone onto the ground or when the soul shattering sobs escaped my body. But I will never forget the moment my heart broke right in half when they told me my dad died.