Page 87 of Wandering Wild

“Great,” I say, lacking enthusiasm. “I’ll read it when I get home.”

I turn to the window once more, aware of Maddox and Summer sharing a concerned look. But Gabe isn’t done.

“I think you’re going to want to open it now.”

A moment later, I hear a notification on my phone.

I don’t pick it up, not ready to return to reality.

Because as soon as I do, that means I’ll be leaving Charlie behind for good.

She’s probably sleeping now, like most sane people at this hour. She would have returned home with Ember and her stepdad yesterday, probably had a nice dinner with Jerry and then an early night knowing she has to be up in a few hours to supervise a children’s birthday party at her work today—something her boss called her about on Friday night, begging her to take the shift. We were all hanging out as a group in my suite at the time, and Charlie had groaned and said into her phone, “I swear, Sandy, if I survived the last four days only to be torn apart by a bunch of sugar-high eight-year-olds, I’ll be writing you averystern letter from the afterlife.”

Remembering that now brings a smile to my lips, even if it makes the pain in my heart grow ever stronger.

“Zander!”

This time Gabe snaps his fingers together, frowning as he points to my phone.

That breaks through to me enough that I narrow my eyes and say, “We’re about to be stuck on a fifteen-hour flight, Gabe. It’s nothing that can’t wait.”

He makes a frustrated sound and rubs a hand over his cropped black hair, grumbling about how he needs a vacation. But then he exhales loudly and pulls up a chair, his expression softening. “I know you’re hurting, kid. And I know everything with Charlie didn’t turn out the way you wanted, but if you’d just?—”

I rise from my seat and walk away, unable to have this conversation. I can’t talk about this—abouther. Not yet. It hurts too much.

But I also can’t escape it, because Maddox hurries after me, grabbing my arm and halting my retreat.

“Let me go,” I say, trying to pull away. But my best friend holds firm.

“No. It’s tough love time.”

My brow furrows. “It’s what?”

“You’re miserable.” Maddox jabs a finger toward me. “It’s been nearly two days and you’re not eating, not sleeping, barely speaking—how long does this have to go on before you realize you’re making a huge mistake?”

I cross my arms. “Iknowit’s a mistake. But there’s nothing I can do about it. She wants to travel, and I’m tied down with Titan.”

“For what, three months? Six months?” Maddox scoffs. “It’s one movie, not a life sentence.”

“If it’s successful—which it will be—then it’ll be another blockbuster franchise,” I remind him. “And even if it flops, there will be a different movie after it. Then another. And another. Plus, it’s not just the filming—it’s the publicity and the tours and the screaming fans and everything else that comes with it. This is mylife, Maddox. So unless I want to give it up, which I don’t—and Charlie wouldn’t let me do that for her anyway—then this is my future. Indefinitely.”

“So you’re saying you’d be the first actor to ever get involved with someone outside the industry?” Maddox rolls his eyes. “Sure, I can see how mind-blowing that idea is.”

I clench my jaw at his sarcasm.

We’re drawing looks from the other early-morning lounge patrons now, so Maddox lowers his voice and moves closer to say, “I get where you’re coming from, Zan. Truly, I do. But what aboutherfuture? Is she planning to travel forever? What happens when she’s finished finding herself or whatever, and she’s ready to put down roots? Why can’t that be withyou?”

I swallow and look away, because that’s the argument Ishouldhave made to Charlie on Friday night when she said we couldn’t stay in contact. She was right that it would be painful, and I understand her desire for a clean break in an effort to ease some of that, but it also means cutting off any chance of a future when our paths might align better.

“Come on, Zan,” Maddox presses when I’m silent for too long. “Why didn’t you fight for her?”

It’s the disappointment in his tone that has me rasping out, “Because I was afraid she would say no.”

Maddox’s caramel eyes widen, before his expression falls with sorrow. “Oh, Zander.” He hauls me in for a tight embrace. “You’re such an idiot. A lovable idiot, but an idiot all the same.”

“He’s right, you know,” Summer says, and I pull away to see her standing beside us. I wonder how long she’s been there, and how much she heard, before realizing it was probably everything. “Charlie is crazy about you, Zan. Ember says she’s even more heartbroken than you are.”

I jerk at that. “You spoke with Ember?”

---