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“I’ll do whatever it takes.”
My mind flashed to the information Rosie had inadvertently shared today—Rafe didn’t want kids. Did whatever it takes include having a family? I forced myself to stay in this moment. This wasn’t the time or place for that conversation. “Me too,” I said quietly. “How was your flight?”
We chatted for a few minutes about this and that, and then I heard what I thought was Calder stirring in the bathroom. “I have to go,” I said. “I’m still at Calder’s, and I think he might be throwing up again.”
“Okay.”
“I’ll talk to you tomorrow?”
“Sounds good. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.” I was about to hang up when I thought better of it. “Wait, Rafe?”
“Yeah?”
“I just wanted to say that I might stay up here tonight. At Calder’s. On the couch. It’s the third or fourth time he’s vomited, and I don’t want to leave him alone. He could choke.”
Rafe’s voice was low. “Thank you for telling me.”
I smiled sadly. “See? We’re already working on it.”
“Yeah.”
“Goodnight, Rafe.”
“Goodnight, babe.”
I was about to hang up for the second time when Rafe stopped me. “Talia, wait! Are you still there?”
“I’m here.”
He paused. “I love you. You don’t have to say it back, but I need you to know how I feel.”
A sound came from behind me. I turned and found Calder stumbling into the room.
“Thank you,” I said quietly. “Goodnight, Rafe.”
CHAPTER 35
I yawned at my desk the following day at work. After last night, I was having a hell of a time concentrating. Not only had Calder kept me up with his vomiting, but I’d had the worst sleep on the couch. If that wasn’t bad enough, I’d ruminated most of the night about not saying “I love you” back to Rafe. It hadn’t seemed like the right moment, even if the words were at the tip of my tongue and inside my heart. And I didn’t want him to believe I’d only said it because he did first.
The clock finally struck noon, and I was able to take my lunch break and get some air. After buying a sandwich from one of the trucks outside my building, I walked to Bryant Park and found a table. It was a beautiful summer day, the temperature warm but the air dry. There was nothing like a sunny afternoon in the City.
A few minutes into my lunch, my phone chimed with a text from Rafe. It was a link, along with three hearts and a brief message: Watch until the end.
I clicked on it to find one of his performances. It was the first from Vegas that I’d seen. Performing wasn’t supposed to be part of the Vegas itinerary on this trip. But the people he’d been talking with must’ve put together a demo or something. There wasn’t an audience like usual.
The video started dramatically, with Rafe smashing a pane of glass into pieces. I marveled at the high quality of this footage compared to the videos he’d posted on the streaming site. This had been shot more professionally. I imagined the folks in Vegas had invested in a good videographer to help sell the show. The lighting was top notch, reflecting on the glass in a way that made the shards almost seem like diamonds.
Once Rafe got through the initial smashing spectacle, he began to create something by gently laying down the pane of glass and hammering against it. I watched in awe as a person began to take shape. As the eyes, nose, and mouth came together, I realized I wasn’t looking at just any face—I was looking back at myself. Rafe had created a glass version of me. My mouth hung open.
I immediately dialed him.
He answered on the third ring. “What did you think?”
“I can’t believe you did that.”
“Why can’t you believe it?”
