He nods. “Do you have a cold too?”

Sod the ducks.My head spins to face him. “Huh?”

“You were sniffling too. Or was that just allergies?”

I nod quickly, loose curls falling from my shoulders. “Yeah, hay fever’s a bitch this time of year.”

“Ah, yeah, because New York in September is definitely known for being hay fever season.”

I side-eye him. “Yeah, yeah, exactly.”

He nods slowly, and I can tell he doesn’t believe me, thanks to the smirk I can see tugging on the corners of his mouth, and the way his brows stretch upwards. But he should believe me.Iknow I’m lying, but screw him for judging. He doesn’t even know me. How can he be sure that I’m not telling the truth?

“What? You don’t believe me?”

He shakes his head, his tight lips jailing a smile. “Nope.” He pops the ‘p’, which only fuels the annoyance buildingin my chest.

I twist my body to face him, leaning my head closer to his than I should have, but he doesn’t move an inch. “Oh yeah? How do you know that? Just because you’re an actor, you think you’re good at reading emotions. Pick up on silent cues? What is it? Why don’t you believe me?”

He stifles a laugh. “Well, you’re right. I can pick up on silent emotional cues, that’s true.” He lifts his hand up to my cheek, and I swear the more he closes the gap between our bodies, the more static between us I can feel. “You’ve also got tear stains down your cheek, and your eyes are kind of puffy. I also stood behind you long enough to notice your shoulders shaking, so unless you were laughing, I’m gonna assume you were crying.”

Damn it.

“Okay, so? Why do you even care? You don’t know me.” I jabbed at him, harsher than I wanted to, with more hurt in my voice than I’d planned to display.

“I know you. Not personally or very deeply, but I still know you.” He sits up straighter, his hands clasping together and his eyes getting softer. “You think I don’t want to check if the girl I offered a job to, who is still new to this city, was okay, because I found her crying all alone?” He shakes his head and, out of nowhere, stands up from the bench, the wooden panels creaking below him as he does. “Look, I’m sorry for intruding. I’ll see you tomorrow—”

“I was.”

All six foot-something of him halts, slowly turning back around to face me.

“Crying, I mean. I was crying. You’re right.”

I don’t mean for my voice to crack, but it does. It bounces off the lake and back between us like a light, which causes Jacob’s head to fall forward and a breath of air to leave him.

“God, I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to push. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

When he finally lifts his head again, his eyes find mine like they were pre-programmed to, but this time, they’re glazed over with guilt.

I can recognise that feeling in anyone; it’s a side effect of being one of its victims.

I can’t bring myself to tell him it’s okay, that I knew he probably meant well, because all this talk about me crying and sitting by myself and still being new has got me worked up and triggered why I was crying in the first place.

I don’t know why, but all I can do is keep my eyes on him and pat the bench panel next to me, and thankfully, not a second later, he’s back by my side.

“How much time do you have?” I ask, letting a small smile rest on my lips, shortly mirrored by him.

He looks at his wrist, which doesn’t have a watch wrapped around it, making me chuckle, before he blows a breath. “Oh, I think we’ve got a good half hour before the sun goes down.” His smile grows. “I’m all ears.”

My lungs sucked in the deepest breath I could, crossing my legs underneath me, before slipping everything past my lips.

“A lot of things happened before I moved here. For starters, today marks nine years since I lost my parents. I never really get upset about them not being here anymore. It’s only today that I really have the time to sit and remember I don’t have themaround anymore.

“The only family I guess I have now is my Nanna Dorothy, and being so far away from her so unexpectedly is turning out to be a lot harder than I thought. I know if I’d had the time to plan living here I’d have made arrangements for her to visit, but because everything was so last minute, and she’s eighty-six and settled in her retirement home, I don’t want to fly her out sporadically, even though I know she’d say yes. Plus, it would stop me from truly being the confident, independent woman I’ve needed to be for a long time.

“The only other option would be to fly back home to see her, but because today was my first day earning money, I’m not exactly rolling in cash just yet. I’d dip into my savings, but they’re just getting lower and lower every day, and what’s left of it, I need to use to start my bakery, which just seems so far out of reach I can barely see it anymore. I used to have this crystal clear picture about what it would look like, what I’d sell, but now it’s all muddy and blurred, and I don’t know if I can make it real. Whether that’s because it’s been drilled into me that I’d never achieve it or the fact that it really is unachievable, I don’t know.

“All I know is that my life is a mess, and here I am telling the most famous actor in the world my life story and crying like a child because I’m too overwhelmed to do anything about it.”