Page 72 of The Star in Room 7

“Thanks.”

He smiles, our gazes meet, and suddenly I’m ten times calmer.

While the girls gather around, I get their names and write each of them a quick, personalized message. Then we gather for a photo, which Nate takes on every one of their phones, making sure to position us so there’s nothing notable in the background.

“Thank you so much,” the blonde says. “I’m going to keep this forever.” She holds her autographed slip of paper to her chest.

Chatting loudly, the girls wander off, glancing back at us until they round the corner.

“You’re a natural,” Nate says proudly.

“I’m not sure about that. My heart was hammering the whole time.”

“You couldn’t tell.”

“You’re sure?”

He nods. “You made their day, Zach.”

I sigh. “I know.”

“It’ll get easier.”

“I hope so. Let’s go.”

We get to my apartment and, after taking a deep breath, I let us in.

The first thing that hits me is the smell of her perfume. It’s lingered all this time. Which makes sense. The windows have been shut. No one’s come in or out since Officer Vale escorted me to Halo House. But, still, it’s suffocating. I want to run, but Nate is behind me, giving me the courage to stay put.

Everything is exactly how I left it. Or, rather, how she left. The trail of rose petals on the floor, leading to the bedroom, although they’re wilted and blackened now. The pots and pans she used that probably need throwing out. I don’t want to get close enough to see what’s growing on them.

Nate shuts the door and puts his strong, grounding hands on my shoulders. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I want to throw up.”

“Do you want me to wash up?”

I grimace and shake my head. “Throw it all away.”

He nods and moves to the cupboards to find a bin bag. He puts all the unwashed things into it, ties it off, and sets it by the door. “I’ll take it out when we leave.”

I stare around. I’ve spent so much time at Nate’s apartment that mine feels tiny. Who am I kidding? It always felt tiny. But it had been mine. Rented, obviously, but mine. Now it feels like it belongs to a stranger, and I know, beyond any doubt, I’m never going to live here again. Nate’s right, I need to give up the lease. I tug my phone out of my pocket and type an email to my landlord, giving him notice. I show it to Nate, watching his face carefully as he reads.

“That’s perfect, sweet boy.”

I smile my thanks and send it.

“Is there anything you want to take?” he asks.

I shake my head, but then my stare falls on the TV unit. I go over to it, crouch, and pull out my fan mail. The ones not sent by her. My hands shake as I look through them. Nate is right behind me, standing, offering me silent support. Tears drip down my cheeks as I read the positive messages. I have fans. I have people who want to see me do well, who want to see me in more movies. I can’t leave them behind. I stand and put them on the table, ready to take with me.

I could leave now. I don’t need to go any further into my apartment. I could ask Nate to come back later to pack up my things, especially my clothes. But that would be cowardly. I don’t want to feel like a coward anymore. I don’t want to feel like a victim. I clench my fists, take a breath, and head to the bathroom.

The sink and the mirror above it are directly opposite the door. I stop dead. ‘I love you, Chase’ has been written across the mirror in bright red lipstick. I turn, colliding with Nate, who wraps his arms around me, holding me tight. I cling to him, trying not to cry. I fail.

“Why?” I ask.

He strokes my hair and rocks me, like he’s done so many times.