I lifted my hand and clutched at the compass Elias had placed around my neck, willing it to point me in the right direction—and give me the strength to stay on the path I needed to follow. “We can talk about it later. I need to speak to Ryan.”

Turning, I didn’t have to search the crowd to find him. My gaze went straight to where he was standing by himself, as if drawn there by a magnet. His shoulders were tense, his forehead slightly scrunched as his eyes clocked my smallest movement. I clenched my fingers around the key fob, and I reminded myself of all the hours of training Anya had made me suffer through.

But those torturous training exercises had nothing on the devastation occurring within me at that moment.

While everyone was getting their cake, I moved through the masses toward the door. I didn’t wait to see if Ryan followed as I stepped outside and walked over to the white Tesla Model S. The car was beautiful, and I had no doubts it was as safe as Dad had assured Ryan it would be. He was just as overprotective as my best friend was…

The pain that tore through me suddenly left me breathless.

Was Ryan still my best friend? It was more than apparent that I wasn’t his any longer, but did I still get to claim him as mine?

Would there ever be anyone I could trust or love enough who could even take that position if—and when—it became vacant?

“Nova.” I clenched my eyes shut at the sound of my name coming from his lips. I wanted to turn around, throw myself into his arms, and let him make everything better again. Just as he’d done all my life. But for once, that was impossible. He couldn’t make this better because no one could force themselves to love another person.

Inhaling slowly, I called upon the reserved strength I kept hidden deep—just as Anya had taught me—and walked toward my new car without a word to him. Opening the driver’s door, I slid into the seat and took in all the features. Moments later, the passenger door opened, and Ryan joined me.

“Put your seat belt on,” he instructed quietly.

I fastened it in place and waited for him to do the same before starting the car. Neither of us spoke as I pulled out onto the main road and turned in the direction of my house. But instead of stopping in my driveway, I kept going. Maybe if I just drove, he wouldn’t want to talk. When he’d taught me how to drive, he’d always been hesitant to do much more than give pointers, not wanting to distract me.

But with each mile that we rode in silence, his tension only heightened.

“Are you even going to talk to me?” he finally burst out, his frustration making his voice sharper than normal.

I pulled up in front of the playground at the park on the outer edge of town and parked. Dropping my hands into my lap, I sat there, staring straight ahead. “What is there to say?” I asked.