And it kind of is.

I stare at my wedding band, and on the surface, the story is too crazy to tell. But those details aren’t what matter most. It’s what’s behind them. “I met someone, and he’s wonderful. He makes me happy in a way I didn’t think I could be happy again. But sometimes I’m scared to fully surrender to the way I feel for him,” I admit, taking a deep breath. “How did you let go of the fear?”

She brings her hands together and imitates diving. “You jump off the cliff.”

“That’s it?” I ask. She makes it sound so simple.

“You let go of it by letting go of it. It’s hard, and it’s easy at the same time.” She dips her hand into her purse. “And here is this little item. I’m glad it’s returning to its rightful owner.”

I rub my palms eagerly. I never thought it would find its way to me again. I still won’t believe it till I verify it with my own two eyes. “Yes, come to mama.”

Diana laughs. “I was sorting through my old boxes, and I came across it in one of his jackets. I remembered you had worn one that was similar last time I saw you, and that’s why I reached out. I thought you might want it.”

She opens her palm, and I gasp. My heart cartwheels as I reach for the cheap, faux-silver chain with a taxicab charm on it. “I can’t believe you found it.” I stare at the necklace in wonder. It means nothing, and it means everything. It’s just a thing, but it’s a thing that’s come home. “My brother gave this to me years ago. I had it for most of my life, and I never knew what happened to it.”

Diana shrugs happily. “Maybe fate wanted you to have it again.”

There’s that word again. Fate. Does fate have anything to do with the whereabouts of a necklace my brother gave me when I was six? Does fate have any role in anything?

When I put it on, I don’t think of my brother. I think of Christian, and I want to tell him that maybe I do believe in fate. Just a little bit. Maybe I do believe we were meant to meet again. Maybe this necklace was meant to come back to me. Maybe everything in my life has led me to this moment. To the realization that all I have to do to find happiness is step off the cliff.

When we’re done and it’s time to say goodbye, I hug her tightly. “I’m glad you found this, and I’m thrilled to have it again.” I tug her closer. “Good luck, Diana. I want you to have a beautiful life.”

“I want the same for you.”

A lump rises in my throat. I never thought I’d be here today, on the other side. The side of letting go, of being free. But as I walk away, touching my taxicab charm, I’m sure that’s exactly where I am.

I’m heading to New York tomorrow, and tonight I want to see Christian. I call him.

“Hello?”

I flinch at the voice on the other end of the line. “Erik?”

“Sorry, yeah. I answered his phone. I just returned home from a long run and he’s sound asleep.”

“Oh,” I say, my heart plunging into disappointment. “He must have been tired.”

“He’s zonked. How are you?”

I cross the street, doing my best to table my desire to see Christian. “I’m good. And you?”

“Brilliant. Never been better. In fact, I was going to call you.”

“You were?”

“I need your help with something, and I know you’re already helping with so much already, but I hope you won’t mind.”

He tells me what he needs. I like Erik. I care about him. I also want to do right for the brother of the man I love.

I say yes, and he tells me he’ll swing by early in the morning to pick me up.

34ELISE

Erik picks me up in an Uber at seven on the dot. I send Christian a text letting him know I’m helping his brother with a project. But I don’t hear back from him. “Where’s Christian?”

“Griffin convinced him to run six miles or something this morning. He’s insane.”

“Totally mad,” I tease, but a seed of worry gnaws at me. “Is he okay?” It’s odd that I didn’t talk to him last night, but then again, he went to bed early. Maybe I’m reading something into nothing.

“He’s busy at work,” Erik says absently, staring out the car window. His mind is clearly elsewhere, and I don’t know where that elsewhere is. Erik didn’t tell me much. He simply said he wanted a woman’s company to pay a visit to Jandy.

“Do you think she’s going to listen to me? She didn’t seem too fond when she showed up at the match.”

He turns back to me. “I’ll do the talking. I want you there because she has issues with men, due to a poor relationship with her father. I’m now the man on the outside, so I don’t want to set off those subconscious issues.”

“I understand,” I say, though I don’t entirely. But I’m impressed Erik has such a strong read on the woman’s psyche.

“I called her sister last night after I finished my run.”

I arch a brow, curious. “What did she say?”

His jaw is set hard in anger. “Jandy’s story about Lillian being ill sounded dodgy, and I was right on that count. Lillian said she was in a car accident and took a few days off work. She had whiplash. She’s not having hundreds of thousands of euros in medical treatment, like Jandy made it seem.”

“That’s good. It’s good she’s not ill.”

“It also means Jandy is off her trolley.”

“Well, yes,” I say softly.

When we arrive at the café, Erik thanks the driver, and we snag a table inside. A minute later, the woman who confronted me at the soccer field arrives, stopping in her tracks when she sees me. She points. “What’s she doing here?”

“It’s easier for me this way, and I think you’ll want to hear what I have to say,” Erik replies.

“Hello, Jandy,” I say, doing my best to be civil, though I’m sure she wants to throttle me as much as I want to throttle her.

“Hello,” she says, but her voice is wobbly, and her eyes look tired, as if she hasn’t slept in days.

Erik stands and pulls out a chair. Jandy pauses, regards it, then sits.

Erik takes a deep breath and looks straight at her. “I get that you’re not in love with me. I truly get it. It hurts like hell, but I’m not going to dwell.”

My heart aches for him, and I want to tell him it gets better. Instead, I simply listen.

Jandy murmurs a thank you.

Because listening to her husband talk about his feelings would be oh-so-hard. I resist the urge to slap her—mostly because I’ve never slapped anyone. I’m sure I’d botch it.

“But I need this to stop.” Erik’s tone is crisp and clear. Dominant, even.