“Seriously, how cold was it?”

I shrug, open up Words With Friends and squint at the screen.

Joshua Chasez played ‘stereotypical’ for 1000 points.

I hate this game.

“Justin.”

I glance up at her.  She’s smirking at me, and I try to do the same, but I fail.  I don’t want to talk about it with her, but she’s so damn determined.  Everybody is.  They play it off like I went on this great adventure,  like my life was never in any real danger.

But it was.  They don’t realize how close I came to death.  That if we’d been stuck up there for another couple of days, the hypothermia would have sucked my life away.  Of course, I don’t let on to my real feelings.  Don’t tell them that sometimes, I’ll wake up from a horrible nightmare about the swirling white snow,  drowning me, taking me away from her.  I can’t, and so I just force a laugh, and pretend it really is a big old joke.

It’s easier for me.

“I froze my balls off.”

She laughs.

I don’t know why I agreed to dinner.  Maybe it’s because we wrapped yesterday.  Maybe I’m just lonely.  Maybe I’m just so damn...confused about what I should do this weekend.  I know...I know the right thing to do would be to take that ride, pay my respects and make sure she hasn’t gone over the edge. My mom would agree.  She was shocked when she found out the news, felt horrible, and said that I should at least go pay her a visit despite Fiona’s efforts to push me away.  She understands, my mom.  She knows it was a weird, difficult situation, and that Fiona just wanted to get on with her life.

But that doesn’t mean I’m not still angry with her.

I never would have walked away like she did.

“You should let it go,” Trace told me yesterday.  “Send a card or something.  You already missed the funeral, so why backtrack now?”

I love the guy to death but he’s never been very compassionate when it comes to strangers.

“Maybe...you should come back to my place tonight.  We could have some more wine...talk?”

A sly smile takes over her expression, and I have to admit, under normal circumstances I would definitely take advantage of the situation. It’s no secret that we’ve kept our feelings for each other under wraps, so we could finish this movie without any drama.  Now it’s over though.  Now’s my chance to pull her to me and have that one night stand that we’ve both been dreaming about from the beginning.

But if I do that, there’s no way I can take that ride to Long Island tomorrow, and it sucks, but I know if I miss this...if I’m not there for her, I’ll never forgive myself, even if I am angry at her.

“I...I really can’t,” I sigh.  “I have to be somewhere tomorrow, early.”

Her smile fades. “Oh.”

“Sorry, Ash.”

“Well, I shouldn’t have expected anything else from you, Justin.”  She gets up from the table and rests her hand on my shoulder, giving me a pleasing smile.  “I guess...I’m just glad you’re okay.  See you at the premiere?”

I nod.  I know we won’t go out again after tonight. “Yeah, sure.”

She leans down and kisses my cheek.  “Good luck.”

She saunters away from the table.  I stare after her, my heart filled with regret.  Fuck, that was my one chance.  When I tell Trace, he’ll probably lecture me for fifteen minutes because I let an opportunity like that pass me by.  I’m single, and I’ve been that way for far too long.  I know it’s time for me to start getting out there, dating again, before I lock myself in the studio and go back to not having a life.

But I just...I just can’t think about dating right now.  Not when something so devastating has happened to the person who saved my life.

I spent that full week in the hospital, only finding out about what happened to the little girl a couple of days after Fiona walked out on me.  My mom gave me the news, her eyes filled with tears, and I didn’t know what to think. It was fucking devastating, after I promised her it would all work out...that I would get her daughter what she so desperately needed.  I followed through too, kept my word...

And the kid still died.

I still don’t know what to make of it.  It doesn’t make sense.  She was supposed to get better, because Fiona had already lost her husband.  Now she’s all alone, but I know from experience that the world can be a fucked up place, that bad things happen to good people for not particular reason at all.  Joe is another example of that.  I sent the family flowers, got a thank you card.

It doesn’t even begin to make up for that loss.

Fiona doesn’t deserve this.  Not after everything she’s been through.  I kept thinking that she would be so hurt, so devastated, that she would push everybody around her away.  That’s how it started for me, then I found the bottle...

It hit me so hard that she could end up that way, washed up, without a single person who cared about her, and I wouldn’t let it happen to her.  I refused.

I think it’s the biggest reason why I’ve decided to go see her.  I did some hunting around before I got out of the hospital, put my lawyer to work.  He got me her address, and home phone number.  When I called, I didn’t speak to her though.  I spoke to her sister, Cassidy.  She was slightly surprised to hear from me, but she didn’t ask me a million questions like I thought she would.  She sounded so down, so depressed, and when I asked her about coming to see Fiona, she told me I could try but I probably wouldn’t get far.  

She told me her sister wouldn’t even talk to her anymore.

I knew that meant Fiona had shut herself away from the world, and was determined to keep things that way.  I said I’d like to help once I was out of the hospital, and my life was back in order again.  Cassidy welcomed me.  Told me anytime I wanted to drop by, she would be there to talk to me, even if her sister wouldn’t.

So I’m taking her up on the offer now that I’m ready.  I’m also considering making her a part of my career, if she’ll let me.  I’d possibly like her to fill in for Trace, because I think she would do a great job.  She’s organized, plans ahead, and is a great thinker.  That’s exactly the kind of person I need for the job, and I know, if she took it, it would help her concentrate on other things besides how depressed she is.  Of course she’ll never get over Mackenzie.  I would expect her to, but she deserves to be a little bit happier, and I think a challenging job like the one I’m about to offer her, would get her on the right track again.

God, I hope she says yes.  It’s not just about her...

I’m still not over her.

I need her too.  She gives me that reassurance, the one that picks me up, makes me forget about the drunken mess I used to be.  

She’s my inspiration, and if I can keep her close to me while I make this album...possibly the biggest album of my career, I’ll do it.

I recovered well, was out of the hospital on time, but when I got home my life was anything but relaxing.  I barely had a chance to get settled in, before I was back to work, filming nonstop.  They had to rush to meet our dead line since I missed all that time.  When I wasn’t filming, I was always, always on the phone.  The press was up my ass constantly.  Everybody wanted me to do an interview, be on their talk show...whatever.  Johnny said it was a good opportunity to get my name floating around again, since I told him I thought I was ready to go back into the studio, but...but I didn’t want to relive all of that, or tell them about Fiona.  She had the decency not to divulge details about what we went through, for my privacy's sake, so I decided to do the same.  Nobody has been happy about my tight lip of course.  My people would rather have the press talking about me, because there’s no such thing as bad press, but I’ve never been one to come out and talk to them willingly.

Aside from the structured media...the paparazzi have been getting their money’s worth too.

They’re everywhere, follow me down city blocks when I’m trying to go to lunch with a friend.  They take pictures of me when I’m eating, when I leave, when I go to my apartment, when I go to work.  It’s never ending, and it’s taken everything in me not to have a freak out and run one of them down.  I know better of course.  I’ve had my fair share of not so friendly run ins with photographers in the past, and I’d rather not have to deal with a lawsuit if I can help it.  So I just let them take their pictures, and try to get away from them as soon as possible.

I pay the bill, and walk the five blocks back to my apartment.  Thankfully, the photographers seemed to have called it a day.  None bombard me on my walk, and when I reach my building, the only person there to greet me is my doorman.  I tell him to have a nice night, and then I head inside, take the elevator up to my floor and let myself inside.  The cat arches its back and hisses at me the minute it sees me, and as always, I just laugh and tell it get lost.  It’s not my cat, it’s Jessica’s, but she has yet to come and claim the stupid thing.  I guess she’s busy...or something.  Still, I don’t try to get in touch with her to give it back.  Something about coming home to the cat comforts me.  It means I’m not completely alone here, even if the thing is temperamental as hell.

When I go back to LA though, I’ll have to decide what I’ll do with it.  My dogs wouldn’t like her, at all.  I guess I’ll have to break down, stop being so damn stubborn and call up Jess, as much as I don’t want to.  My mom would love that.  After all this time, and everything that’s happened, she’s still convinced that I’m going to marry that girl.

She’s so wrong though.

I change and check my answering machine for messages.  Naturally, there’s more than a dozen, almost every single one from press people and my management, urging me to do various interviews about the crash.  I delete them all, because I’ve already been emailed and texted about the same opportunities.  They just won’t stop.  They never stop.

Then I reach the last voicemail, and I press play, immediately cringing when I hear the voice blare out of the speaker.

“Hey J...it’s me...”

Jessica.

“Listen, I’ve been meaning to get in touch with you, about my cat and about...things...but I guess your cell number changed.  I don’t blame you.  I know we didn't’ exactly end on the best terms.  I talked to your mom a couple of days ago, and she filled me in.  I just wanted you to know that...I’m glad you’re okay, and I’d like to see you when you come back to LA.  Your mom told me you were going back into the studio soon so...whenever you’re back in town, just give me a call.  You know the number.  I’ve...I’ve been doing some thinking about us, and I hope you’ll at least hear me out.  Talk to you soon.  I...love you.”

Click.

I stare at the machine and laugh.  Bitch.  She loves me? She doesn’t fucking love me.  She left me, high and dry, after I proposed, like our relationship didn’t even matter.

Why is she suddenly so interested in working things out? Is it because she feels guilty?

I have no idea.

I can’t even think about her right now, because I have to be prepared to face Fiona tomorrow.

That’s all that really matters, that’s what’s important...making sure she gets through this thing, because she got me through something catastrophic too, without a question, even though I was a jerk in the beginning.

I watch TV for a while, and the cat decides to join me, but keeps her distance, swishing her tail as she lays curled up at the end of the sofa.  I call it a night around nine, and get in bed, lying awake for the longest time, praying that tomorrow will go well.  That she’ll let me in, because she needs somebody...somebody that knows what it’s like to be in pain, and I know the feeling all too well.

It’s my turn to be strong for her.  I know it’s the only thing I can do, to repay her, now that her daughter is gone.  
************
“Fi.”

My eyes drift open, slowly.  My head hurts, it pounds, but that’s normal.  I roll over, on top of the empty bottle of wine that I downed last night. I groan, pulling it out from underneath me and tossing it to the floor.  “What...”

“C’mon.”

The curtains are yanked open and sunlight fills the room.  I pull a pillow over my head.  “Get out!”

The pillow is snatched away, and I roll over, glaring at my sister.  “What the hell? Cass...just leave me alone!”

“You’re not just going to lay around in the darkness day in and day out.” She puts her hands on her hips and narrows her eyes at me.  “Do you think this is what Kenz would want you to do?”

I don’t answer, just shift myself up slightly.  “I’ve told you before that I don’t want to talk about her.”

“What good is it doing?  What good will it do, continuing on like this? Shutting yourself away, feeling sorry for yourself? Blaming yourself, Fi? You can’t do this forever.”

Again, I don’t answer.  I never do anymore.  She pulls this a couple of times a week now, comes into my room and tries to get me to rejoin humanity.  But I have no desire to.  I have nothing left, and everything I do, say, touch, and feel, reminds me of my daughter.  It’s so painful, hurts my heart, creates this wild fire that travels down into my belly, and I can’t shake it off.  I cry myself to sleep, I cry when I wake up, and I’m in a daze whenever I’m not shut up in my bedroom.  The rest of the time I’m drinking, or sleeping.  I know I’ve fallen off the deep end, but that  was inevitable.

They told me that Kenz’s body had enough.  That she was too young and too weak to have as many procedures as she did, that her death was inevitable, even if she had gotten the transplant.  But I couldn’t believe that.  Everything inside of me told me that if I had just managed to get home to her sooner, she would still be alive.  It was my fault.  My fault for not getting help up in the mountains sooner than we did.  It was my fault for leaving her, my fault for not having enough money, my fault for squandering what we did have away on the wrong treatments.

She died, and it was my fault.

It will always be.

The truth is, behind closed doors, I’ve been looking into a couple of things.  The military seems like a good way to put an end to my suffering.  I can simply reenlist and lose myself in the order and discipline being in the Marines requires.  You sort of lose your identity when you enlist.  You have to live by their rules, act like they want you to act.  It makes you numb to everything else.  I think that’s what I need, just to be numb, to forget.

Maybe go, like Michael went.  Then I can be with her again, and nobody can say that I took my own life.  

It will be the perfect way to go.

I talked to my old recruiter.  He told me I wouldn’t need basic.  That he could have me on a flight out to Iraq in a week, if I really wanted to reenlist.  I would be a sergeant again, and once I proved myself, he told me that Special Ops would be interested in giving me a test run, just like before.

I have a couple of days to decide, but I know I’m going to do it.  Cassidy has no idea, of course, but I’d rather wait until the last minute to tell her.  That way, she can’t talk me out of going.

I can’t wait to leave all this shit behind, forever.

“Come on, get out of bed.  Wayne is here.”

“Like I care.”

“Give the guy a break, Fi.  He’s trying to help you.”

I sigh.  I don’t want to see him.  He’s always just dropping by, because he’s been after me for years, ever since Michael passed away.  It’s typical.  They were best friends, and I’m sure Michael made some kind of pact with him, that if something were ever to happen, he would step in and take care of me.  

But I don’t want to be taken care of.  I don’t care if he has a good job, and a good head on his shoulders. I don’t care that he’s ‘a nice guy’, and I don’t care if ‘he lost Kenz too’.  It wasn’t the same with them. Sure, he spent time with her, tried to be a father figure to her after Michael passed away, but...but he could never be her father.

I just wouldn’t allow that to happen.

“At least come and say hi.  He's been hanging around the house all day.”

“He'll get the hint, eventually.”

She tugs on my arm.  “You’re getting out of bed, and showering today.  You stink like booze, Fi.  It’s not good, okay? I’m really worried about you.”

I don’t know what she expects me to do. Hold my head high? Forget that my baby was dead once we buried her? It was a nice ceremony, yeah, and Wayne...he financed it, was there at my side as the priest made his speech, even let me cry against his chest, because I had nobody else.

But I was so out of it then.  I couldn’t help myself, and I feel bad now for using him, for making him think that I would ever need to rely on him for anything. I don’t.  I don’t need anybody, and I can get myself through this.  Right now I’m just...in mourning still, but I’ll get through it, be strong again...just like always.

It’s just taking a little bit longer.  I was able to get over Michael a little faster because I had Kenz to worry about.  Now I just...I know I’m alone.  It’s gut wrenching.  I miss her so much, and...and I wasn’t able to say goodbye the way I wanted to.  I wasn’t able to kiss her forehead, and tell her that momma loves her, the way I should have.  She died without me, with Wayne by her side and nobody else that cared about her.

I just feel like...I let her down, and I can’t ever change that.

“Fi, please?”

I sigh, and glance at her.  “Will you leave me the hell alone if I shower?”

“Maybe.”

I roll my eyes, and it takes couple of minutes, but I’m finally able to sit up all the way, and slide myself out of bed, rubbing my face and running my hands through my hair to straighten myself out and try to get my head to stop pounding.  When I stand up, I get a little dizzy, but my sister is right there to steady me.  

She cares so much.  Too much.  I want her to have her own life, and so, it’s another reason why I want to reenlist.

“Come on, one step at a time,” she whispers, and helps me to walk out of the bedroom and down the hallway to the bathroom.  

By the time we reach it, I’m able to steady myself a little better, but I can’t stop myself from vomiting into the toilet.  Luckily Cassidy is there to hold my hair out of my face and rub my back.  It makes me feel a little better, if nothing else.

“You can’t drink like that anymore,” she tells me, once I finish, and helps me strip out of my smelly pajamas.  “It’s gotten really bad, Fi.  I’ve never seen you like this.”

I shrug.

“Fi.”

She’s looking at me the way I used to look at her, when she was just a kid and I was trying to make sure she grew up right.  I set rules for her, and she hated them, but it was only because of those rules that she grew up into a decent person, got a good job, and is independent now.  “I...I’ll stop.”

She nods.  “I think you should talk to that shrink.”

I sigh, and step into the shower after she turns it on and lets the water run.  “I don’t need a shrink, Cass.  I’ll be fine.”

“I’m not so sure.”

I just stare at her, and then she walks away from me, leaving me to my own devices.

When did the tables turn? When did I become the one who needed guidance?

Fuck, I’m a damn mess.  I gotta snap out of it, somehow, before my sister and Wayne take it upon themselves to cart me off to the crazy house.

The minute I let the water run over my head and body, I start to loosen up, start to feel a little bit better, and when I step out and wrap a towel around myself...I feel alive again.  It’s gross, but I haven’t been taking that many showers.  I just...haven’t been motivated enough.  Maybe I’ll start doing this every day again.  It’ll be good, and it will get me out of bed.  That’s important.  I need to build myself up again if I’m going to leave for Iraq.  

For the first time since Kenz was buried, I have a tiny goal.  It’s feels good.

I dress, fix my hair, and put the smallest touch of makeup on.  It’s not much, but it’s enough to get me through the day, and that’s what I need...to get through one day at a time.

Maybe I’m stronger than I thought.

“H-hey, Fiona.”

Wayne smiles and shoves his hands in his pockets when I walk out into the living room.  It takes everything in me not to roll my eyes.  I’ve been so mean to him, it’s really not fair, because he’s never like that with me.  All he ever wants to do is make me feel better, and I don’t know why.  I don’t know why he cares, why he refuses to date anybody else hoping that I’ll give in and go to dinner with him for once.  I’d ask him, but honestly, I just don’t care.  “Hi, Wayne.”  I mutter, and walk into the kitchen, being able to feel my sisters eyes on me when I turn my back on the both of them.

I get myself a glass of water, and stand at the sink, gazing through the window out into the yard.  Kenz’s swing set is still there, strong as ever.  It’s newer, a gift from Wayne last summer.  Seeing it sitting there, vacant, makes my stomach lurch, because I know that no child will ever play on it again.

I turn back around, and lean against the counter.

Wayne, naturally, is standing there.

I sigh.

“You um...you doing okay today?”

I sip my water.  “I’m fine.”

“Maybe you want to talk a little today?” He steps closer to me, and flashes me a smile.  “I’ll take you to Chili's.  You like Chili's, right?”

Pathetic.  He has a nice smile though, and I hate that.

“No.”

“It’s just lunch.  There’s no harm in lunch.”

“I already said no.”  I finish my water, and put my glass in the sink.  Then I walk past him, slide the patio door open, and head out into the yard.

“Fi, come on...please?”

Why won’t he just stop?  Fuck, can’t he take a hint? I whirl around, cross my arms, and glare at him.  It gets him to stop in his tracks and stare at me.  “What, Wayne? What the hell do you want?”

“I just...”

“Do you think like...I’m going to just go to lunch and fall in love with your or some crazy shit?”

“I just thought we could talk...”

“Well I don't want to fucking talk to you, Wayne!  What don’t you get? I mean, I’ve done everything to make it crystal fucking clear that I don’t need you around!”

He doesn’t frown, just laughs at me.  He’s used to me treating him like shit though, because I always have, ever since he made it his mission to support me and Kenz.  Cassidy says he sticks around because  he likes a challenge.  I just think he has nothing better to do.  He’s a computer nerd, works from home,  runs his own business.    He doesn’t have a set schedule.  He can do whatever he wants, and right now, the only thing he wants to do, is pester the crap out of me.  

“You need a friend, Fi.  You have your sister but...I know you.  I know you need somebody else to talk to besides her. Look at yourself...you’re losing it.  All you do is lay in bed.  I want to get you out of the house, so you can start living again.  You deserve it.”

“I can do all of that without your help,” I mutter.  “In fact, you know, I wasn’t even going to say anything about my plans, but I feel like I don’t have a choice.”

“You’re trying to reenlist, right? I know...I heard.”

My breath catches in my throat, and I stare at him.  “How...how could you...”

“I was in the military too, Fiona,” he chuckles.  “I know the same people you do.”

Fuck.  I hate that he’s right.  I hate that...I hate that he’s probably still good friends with my recruiter, and all the guys that hang around down there.  He wasn’t Marines.  He was Airforce, a computer and radar tech, and was discharged the year before Michael died.  “Fine, so you know.”

“Do you really think you’ll pass your aptitude test?  Your psych evaluation?” He asks me, seriously.  “I mean, I know you won’t have to go to basic, but they still want to make sure you’re not...crazy.”

“I’m not crazy,” I grunt.

“You’re not ready to reenlist.”  He steps forward, a solemn expression on his face.  “C’mon Fi, you’re just trying to run away from everything...from us.  It wont help.  I would know, I’ve seen guys try to do it in the past.  It just makes things worse.”

“I’m not like them, and you it’s not for you to decide what I’m capable of.”

“All I’m asking you, is to give me a chance, Fiona,” he says gently, and reaches out so he can run his hand down my cheek.

Why I don’t stop him, I have no idea.

“I can take care of you...” He nods.  “I can help you, get you through this thing with Kenz.  Hell, I miss her too, we can get through it together.  I care about you, even if you think I’m just...doing this to fulfill some pact I made with Michael.  It’s not about that, you know? I’ve...I’ve always liked you, and when you...became available, I figured, what the hell?”

I roll my eyes.  “You’re pathetic.”

He shrugs.  “Maybe.  But I don’t want to be with anybody else.”

With that, he leans in, and presses his lips to mine, tenderly, and the only thing I can do when he pulls away, is stare at him, my mouth agape.

“I’ll come by tomorrow,” he smirks.  “Maybe you’ll feel up to lunch then.”

“I...I...”

But he doesn’t stop walking away from me, and I feel so damn foolish.

I mean, Christ, Wayne Pryor?  Really?

Did I really just let him kiss me? Fuck, I did.  I should have slapped him, but my emotions wouldn’t let me.  Something inside of me sort of, paused, fluttered, and told me it was okay to let him.

But it’s not okay.  I can’t let him in.  I can’t let anybody in.

I sit down on the vacant swing, clutching the chains and swinging myself gently back and forth.  When I close my eyes, I can remember...Kenz’s laughter and smile as I would push her higher and higher.  Those were the good days.  The days before she had to live at the hospital.

God.

When I open my eyes, my vision is all blurry, because the tears are there again.  I can see somebody standing there, a man, and for a few moments I think it’s Wayne, back to fucking...propose or something.  But when I wipe the tears away, I quickly realize that I’m wrong.

It’s not who I expected at all.  In fact, it’s the last person I ever expected to see again.

“Hey.”

I stop swinging, and plant my feet firmly on the ground as I stare back at Justin.  It’s a different version of him, the one I saw on the plane before we crashed.  He has color in his cheeks, and looks like himself again...healthy and renewed, and I’m glad of course.

But I want him to leave.  Right now.

Of course the aftermath was hell.  Getting back home to bury my daughter was hard enough, without having to deal with the seventy five phone calls I would get every day from various members of the media.  People have offered me book deals, paid television testemionals, the whole nine yards, just to get inside Justin Timberlake’s iife a little more.  I hang up on them, tell them off, tell them to find somebody else to bother, because I would never sell him out.  He just...doesn’t deserve that.

I admit, I felt like shit that I pushed him away, walked away from him, but I felt like I didn’t have a choice.  He was too wrapped up in me, when he shouldn’t have been.  Sure, we got a little too close, but it was only out of necessity.  There’s no way I ever could have been intimate with him.  It just...wasn’t like me, and besides, our lives are entirely too different.  That’s why I didn’t want to try to build our friendship up.  I figured one of us would just get hurt in the end.

But now he’s here, rubbing it all in my face, and I just don’t understand.

“What...what are you doing here?”

“I um...I just wanted to see how you’ve been.  I heard about Kenz...I’m...I’m really, so sorry, Fiona.”

I nod gently.  “Thank you, but you didn’t have to come all the way out.”

“I’m only a half hour away, I have a place in the city. We just wrapped the movie so...”

“Oh.”  Right.  His career.  Naturally.  “How...how did it go?”

“I’m just glad it’s over with.  I think I’m done with movies for now.”

I nod.

“Fi.”

“I’m sorry I said...all of that, at the hospital,” I whisper, but don’t look at him.  “I shouldn’t have pushed you away like that but, I just wanted you to focus on your life, Justin.”

“Yeah I figured that much.  I mean, after I was able to stop being pissed off at you.”

After a moment, I feel him next to me, sitting on the second swing.  

“I’m not holding it against you or anything,” he continues.  “But I heard about what happened and I couldn’t live with myself, not knowing if you were going to be okay.”

I chuckle softly.  “I’ll make it.  I’ve made it through everything else.”

“This isn’t like everything else though.”

He’s right.  “I know.”

It’s quiet for a long time.  We just sit on the swings, letting the wind blow all around us, and I shiver slightly.  It reminds me of so much.  The snow capped mountains, the fact that we both could be dead right now if things went differently.

It hits me again, that I’m the reason he’s not dead, and I guess he’s the reason that I made it out of there with most of my sanity.

“I’m leaving for LA at the end of the week,” he speaks up finally.  “I’m going to make another record.  I won’t be back out here, probably until after the album is done.”

I look over at him, and feel myself smile.  I’m happy for him, I know...it’s the one thing that was holding him back, not being able to make his music.  Now, I know he’ll have plenty of inspiration and his label won’t have a reason to knock him down and make him feel like shit.  I’m proud of him, and I guess in a way, if we never met, he wouldn’t have been able to make this decision.  “That’s really great, Justin.  You should be proud of yourself.”

“I am...but...I feel like you’re just getting left behind.  I feel like you got fucked, in the worst way you could be.”

“I was, I guess.  But I’ll be fine.  I can handle it.”

“Your sister told me that you just...lie in bed in the dark all the time...”

I sigh heavily.  I can’t believe that she talked to him, that she told him personal shit about me, about what I’ve been going through.  I’ll kill her.  I really will.  “What else did she tell you?”

He lets out a long breath.  “She said you’ve been drinking...a lot.”

I shrug.

“I can’t let you do that.  I can’t leave for LA knowing that you’re like this.  I just...owe you that much.”

“Justin you did what you could, okay?” I get up from the swing and cross my arms.  “I told you before, just get over me.”

“I can’t.” He shakes his head.  “I want you to be okay, Fi.  I don’t care how hard you try, you’re not going to get rid of me.  I’m not that easy to push away, like everybody else in your life.  What are you even doing? Do you have a job lined up? Anything?”

I roll my eyes.  “I’ll figure it out...”

“You keep saying that but I feel like it’s a bunch of horse shit.  I’m not leaving here until I know for sure that you have some kind of plan in place for yourself.”

I laugh at him.  “Who are you now? My father?”

“I’m your friend,” he says gently.  “Even if you don’t want me to be.”

Damn, he just has to put it to me like that.  “I’m seeing somebody,” I lie.  Great, now I’m using Wayne as an escape from him.

That’s so wrong, but I feel like I have no other choice.

“Who, that chump that I passed on the way out here?”

I stare at him.  “He’s not...I mean...”

“Cassidy told me he’s just a friend,” he laughs.  “Fuck, why can’t you just be honest with me?”

“I...I don’t know.”

“You’re scared.  Just admit it.”

I start walking away from him, the tears forcing their way from behind my eyes and down my face.

“Look, I have a job for you, if you want it.”

What? Come on...really, right now?  I stop walking, and turn back to him, letting out a strong sigh.  “What are you talking about?”

“My business partner is going to have a kid, and so...he’s decided not to be as active with my career.  I mean, he’ll still be there, but not in the same aspect he was.  I need somebody to help me out with some things while I’m recording the record, and once we’re done, I’m going to need a tour manager.”

“You want me to be your assistant?” I laugh.  “Please...”

“Not my assistant.  I have one of those.  I just...I need somebody to work with my staff, look at my books, and make sure the business is running the way it’s supposed to be.  Then, you can come on tour and run the operational side of things.  I know you can do it, Fi.  You’re a fuckin’ genius.  There’s nobody I’d rather have doing this, and...maybe it will take your mind off of things.”

“Oh okay,” I smirk.  “So I’ll just pack my life up, kiss my memories goodbye and relocate to LA so I can continue to cater to your spoiled ass?”

He shakes his head.  “Come on, Fi.  Stop putting up your stupid defensive front.  What’s here for you? More opportunity to mope around, and be miserable?  The chance to get into a relationship with somebody I know you don’t really care about? You don’t deserve that.  You deserve a chance to live again.”

“And you’re the answer to all my problems, right Justin?”

“I’m just offering you an opportunity.  You can think it over, give it a week, and if you decide not to do this, I won’t be mad.   I just wanted to let you know that I care, and that there are other things out there for you.  Your life doesn’t have to be over.”

“She’s gone, Justin,” I sigh.  “My life is over.”

He presses his lips together.  “When are you going to let somebody talk to you about it?”

I shrug.  

He steps towards me.  “I’m willing.  Just like I’ve always been.”

“I know that, but I’m not ready.”

“I figured.  Do you have a cell phone?”

“Yeah...why?”

“I want you to have my number.”

I debate it for about five seconds.  If I say no, he’ll probably give up, just walk away, and if I say yes...I’m enabling him to call me, text me, harass me about getting myself together again.  I hate that but then...then I start to think about him.  The way he held me on that last night, for those few brief hours that we were naked under the blankets together.  I thought I was helping him, and...I was, but he really helped me too.  He helped me to calm down, and open up to him.  I hadn’t opened up to anybody in years, and I guess...I still don’t understand why he was able to get me to do it.  I’ve known Wayne forever, and I’ve never been that deep with him, about anything.

Justin and I seem to have this strange, deep attraction, that can’t be duplicated, even though I would never admit that to him.

So I pull out my phone, and hand it to him, so he can punch his number into it.

“Let me know, whatever you decide, okay?”  He presses the phone back into my hand, and smiles gently.  

“I can’t promise you anything.”

“I know.”  He leans in and plants a soft kiss on my cheek.  “But you’ll think about it.”

I nod.

“Friends?”

He’s sticking his hand out to me.  I guess, I never did give him a good answer to that.  I yelled at him at the hospital and left, but that wasn’t a real answer.  I was just angry.  Now my head is clearer, even though I’m still so fucking depressed.  “Yeah.  Friends.”  I shake his hand.

“Cool.  I’ll see you around.”

I let him walk away, and continue to stand there, dumbfounded about today, about what just happened, about the opportunity I’ve just been given.  It would be a new life, a new experience, that could take me all over the world, get my mind away from everything.  No I wouldn't forget my daughter, but I would be busy enough where I wouldn't have time to sit around and feel sorry for myself.

Most importantly though, I wouldn’t be forced into a relationship with Wayne, and if I stay, I know being with him is inevitable, because I have nobody else around besides my sister.  I’d fall for him, try to learn how to love him, and that’s not how I want my life to be.

I know my mind is made up, but I’ll let Timberlake sweat it out in the meantime, so he won't have an edge.

That’s what I did with Michael, after all, the first time he ever asked me out.

I know that means I have feelings for him, and that...that’s something I never counted on.