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"I know you don't owe me anything," he says. "Even if your boyfriend... is he still your boyfriend?"

I bite my tongue. Ryan doesn't need every detail of my personal life. He had his chance to be my friend. Hell, he had his chance to be my husband, but he fucked that up.

We fucked it up.

He shakes his head. "It doesn't matter. I'm not here to talk about who you should or shouldn't date."

"I appreciate that." My heart pounds against my chest. There is no good reason why he'd be here.

"You were amazing," he says. "I was expecting the same Alyssa who played Juliet when she was fifteen, but you were... I should have known you'd be amazing."

"I was amazing as Juliet."

He nods. "Of course. You beat out a dozen senior girls for the part."

I take a step back. "Please don't pretend like you've ever been supportive of my acting," I say. "Even in high school you were against it."

That came out way, way too damn civil.

I expect a sharp defense. It was only for your own good. I was looking out for you. The usual Ryan bullshit. But he just nods.

"That's why I'm here," he says. "To make amends."

"You could have done that in L.A. anytime in the last year or so."

"I know," he says, taking a step closer to me. "I had some business in the city, and I heard about your Broadway debut. Congrats, by the way."

"Thanks." I take a step back, until I'm pressed against the drawer of my vanity. "Did my mother have something to do with this?"

He shakes his head. "Does she even have your phone number?"

"No." The drawer is sharp against my ass. I press off it, but I'm too close to Ryan now. Only three or four feet away. If someone saw us...

"Barbara didn't call me," he says. "You really think I'd listen to her if she did?"

"You two were pretty aligned against me moving to L.A."

"She's a drunk, Alyssa. She gave up her right to look out for you a long time ago. Do you even remember how many times I had to pick you up because she had too much wine at dinner?"

"Sorry for the inconvenience." I press my nails into my thumb.

"I didn't mean it like that." He takes another step towards me. "I'm sorry I didn't listen to you back then."

What. The. Hell. Ryan Knight does not apologize to anyone. Not ever.

He brings his gaze to me. It's not his usual authoritative glance, the one that says he practically owns me. It's kind. Sincere.

"I didn't treat you well. I wish I could say I had the best of intentions, but I'm not sure that I did. I didn't think about what you wanted, sweet--" He clears his throat. "Alyssa. I assumed you understood the role you were going to play, and I assumed you were okay with it."

"I was. For a while." My mouth is dry, my throat ragged. This isn't possible. This isn't happening. I dig my fingernails into the tender skin of my wrist to make sure I'm not dreaming, but it does no good.

This is happening.

"Even so," he says. "I was an awful boyfriend." He takes another step towards me. "And I want you to know, I don't have any ill will towards you. I don't blame you at all for what happened with Luke."

"You should." I'm not about to accept absolution.

"Sure," he says. "It was terrible. It was embarrassing. And, once I got over licking my wounded ego, it hurt realizing I lost you. But I didn't deserve to keep you."

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