Page 99 of Claim to Fame

She squeezed her eyes shut, unable to see the hurt on his face without either becoming completely enraged or falling apart herself, and neither seemed like the right choice. His words from the other night in his backyard came back to her. She couldn’t choose him, not when he was clearly unwilling to choose her, but she could do one better.

Choose yourself.

“I’m standing in the middle of a storm, and I thought you wanted to stand in it with me. Storms don’t last forever, Ethan. They don’t. But if you can’t stand in the chaos with me now, then you don’t deserve to stand with me when it’s calm.”

When she opened her eyes, the devastation in his was more than she could bear.

“I wanted to,” he said softly. “I wanted to be that guy for you.”

“Be that guy for yourself.” She dashed away the tear slipping down her cheek. When had she started crying? “You think no one can handle all the parts of you, but you don’t even give anyone a chance to. You think you’re fixing things or protecting people but you’re just hiding—and, trust me, I know hiding.”

“What am I hiding from?” he asked.

“I don’t know, Ethan. But I hope you figure it out.” She shoved the last of her things into the suitcase, zipping it closed. “I’ll call a car from the vineyard. Please don’t follow me.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Hannah pulled the baseball cap low over her forehead and adjusted her sunglasses before climbing out of the taxi with a murmured ‘thank you’ to the driver. There were no photographers outside the diner that she could see, but she wasn’t risking it. She was in no mood to have her unwashed hair and dark undereye circles splashed across the internet. The chime over the diner door announced her arrival, the tinkling sound cutting through the low buzz of early morning activity.

She’d barely taken two steps into the diner before she was blindsided by Liv and Jennifer barreling into her, wrapping her into giant hugs that made her feel both safe and completely exposed. “It’s good to see you too,” Hannah laughed with false brightness.

“Good to have you back, Han,” Liv said, squeezing her one last time before releasing her.

Three mimosas waited for them at their usual table in the back. Hannah set aside her sunglasses, but opted to leave the baseball cap on as she took a sip, the bubbles tickling her nose.

“Before we go any further, tell us—do we hate him?” Jennifer asked.

Hannah fingered the stem of her champagne flute and shook her head. “We don’t hate him.”

“You two seemed really happy at the premiere. What happened?” Liv asked.

So she told them the whole messy story—milkshakes and kissing in the bookstore, trivia matches and game nights, volunteering at the high school, dates under the stars and lazy mornings in bed. And the end, when she was ready to choose him, but he wouldn’t choose her.

“It was a lot for him, you know?” she said, blinking back tears. “That kind of attention from the press would be a lot for anyone, but especially for him. I think he really loved me—” She broke off as her words caught in her throat. “But it was too much. I was asking too much.”

Jennifer reached across the table, wrapping her hand around Hannah’s. “You were not asking too much. You are beautiful and brilliant and fucking fantastic and if he couldn’t see that you were worth fighting for, it’s his loss.”

“People always say that. ‘It’s his loss.’ But it’s mine too,” Hannah said, shaking her head.

“It sounds like he has some things he needs to work through, and that has nothing to do with you,” Liv said.

The server dropped their food at the table, three plates piled high with golden brown French toast topped with strawberries and creamy pats of butter, a dusting of powdered sugar around the rim of the plate.

“Is this our order?” Hannah asked, confused.

“We figured this called for a change to the usual routine to welcome you home,” Liv said.

Jennifer cut into a slice of French toast and popped it in her mouth, moaning around the bite. “Besides, carbs are incredible. All this time, why did no one remind me carbs are incredible?”

Hannah smiled as she cut into her own French toast. “It’s nice to see you eating all the food groups again.”

Jennifer shook her head, shoveling another bite into her mouth. “I’m off dairy.” She glanced at the plate in front of her. “Except for today.”

“So, what’s next?” Liv asked.

Hannah dragged a strawberry through a pool of maple syrup. “First, I need to buy thicker curtains for the living room.”

“And then?” Jennifer prompted.

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