My heart plummets to the sidewalk.

“I do understand,” I whisper, my voice breaking.

“You do?” His rises with hopefulness.

“I understand completely. I’m clear on how you feel. I get that you’re torn up.”

He sighs with relief. “Thank you for understanding.”

I square my shoulders, drawing a deep breath. “But right now, there’s way too much of him in this relationship.”

“What do you mean?”

“There are three of us in this, and there’s only room for two. I was already married to him. And I don’t want to be in a relationship with him again.” I raise a hand and press it to Leo’s chest, covering his heart. “I want to be in one with you. But right now? You’re not all the way in.”

His eyes implore me. “It’s not always going to be like this, Lulu. His mom showed up and said those things, and then RaeLynn appeared and pulled out the carpet, and I have to process it. I have to process all I’ve done.”

Sadness grips me, but so does certainty. “That’s the thing—you seem to believe you’ve done something wrong. That we’re something wrong.”

“That came out wrong. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“But you’re right.”

“I am?”

“You are.” I stare at him, my voice soft but firm. “I think processing is exactly what you need to do.”

“What do you mean? What are you doing?”

I don’t want to do this. But I have to. He’s not ready, and I don’t want a reluctant love. “I don’t want half of you. I want all of you. I deserve all of you. I want you without resignation, without you looking over your shoulder. And I want you without him.”

I look around. I’m not needed at the hunt. We finished the clue, we returned to the spot, and I’m free and clear.

I do one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.

I walk away from love.

33LEO

That didn’t exactly go as planned.

Then again, I didn’t plan a damn thing. I simply hoped and clung to the edge of the boat in a battering sea.

Maybe not the best plan.

But I do have an ace up my sleeve—the last ten years of acting.

My poker face might not have been foolproof, but it’s pretty damn good, and so is my immunity to her.

I do my damnedest to dial it all the way back up. I don’t watch Lulu walk away. I don’t linger on her silhouette as she heads south on Central Park West, blending into a slew of New Yorkers.

I know this drill. Been there, done that, have the jacket.

I’m a fucking pro.

I simply turn, head into the park, and rejoin the teams at Strawberry Fields, as if my life didn’t just capsize courtesy of an overturned secret.

Ginny sees me and offers a sympathetic smile. I’m not sure how much she heard, or how much RaeLynn spewed to the crowd.

Nor do I care.

I shove my feelings down and make it through the end of the hunt, when I learn we finished in second place on today’s challenge, and yesterday’s last-place finish brought us down a notch overall. Kingsley and her sister announce the winning team.

News flash—it’s not mine.

Finger-Licking Good is victorious, and George nearly leaps for joy when his name is announced.

I pat Ginny on the back then Noah too. “Better luck next time.”

I go to the office and reacquaint myself with the familiar lineup of spreadsheets, contracts, deals, calls to return, calls to make, and conversations to have—conversations I drown myself in so I don’t have to think of Lulu.

I refuse to think of Lulu.

All my years of training pay off.

I don’t think of her at all.

By three in the afternoon, I’m leaning back in my chair, and I’m chuckling with a chocolate supplier over a meme he just showed me. For the record, cat memes are always funny.

Everything is fine here, thank you very much.

Just another day of normal.

Another day of I’ll get through this.

As six in the evening draws near, there’s a rap on my open door. Ginny pops in. “Hey, you.”

“Hey.”

“Call me crazy, but you look a little . . . how shall we say . . . like you’ve been sucking on lemons all day.”

That sounds like a better way to spend the day than fighting off thoughts of the woman I love.

Wait.

I’m not thinking of her.