I sigh and sit up, tossing my hair off my shoulders. My eyes feel like shit. I haven’t left the apartment in days, and I cry myself to sleep. The annoying sounds of construction are my only company. Cher delivers the gifts to me in the morning, then leaves with Matteo. Brody is consumed with school. And I pace my dark room, haunted by memories of him. The way he smells, his smile, that small dimple on his cheek that I’ve decided is mine and only I can see.

It’s like my heart that was bleeding is now racing, and I can’t seem to stop it. I feel like I’m on a treadmill that won’t stop.

“Just donate it. Did the restaurant come for the chocolate?” I’m not keeping any of this. It’s one big fat no.

I get that he’s rich, but does he seriously think I’m that shallow? That he can buy my love?

“Oh, honey, you won’t be donating this.” She hands me the long, rectangular turquoise box that has the famous Tiffany branding on it.

“Did you look at it?” I stare at her as I take the box. It still has the turquoise bow on it, so maybe she didn’t.

“Stop it. I did not, but come on. Feel that baby. A guy with gloves delivered it. He even had a guard.” She claps her hands and slides closer.

There goes my heart, racing again. I’m so stressed out, I don’t even need coffee. It’s like I can feel him thinking about me, touching me…

I look down at the box and rub my hands across the lettering. A teardrop lands on my finger.

“Take it. Call Tiffany’s and return it. I don’t want it.” I sniff, wiping my poor sore nose on the shoulder of the T-shirt I was sleeping in.

“No.” She looks at me. “And quite frankly, I’m getting a little sick of you ordering me around. You don’t want your presents, call and get them removed yourself. Or better yet…” She stands and smooths her hand on her cute pink dress. “Call Daddy Powers and tell him to stop sending stuff. We’re running out of room anyway.” She turns and slams my door.

I jump. What the hell? Then I leap up and chase after her.

“You’re unbelievable, Cher. All you do is hang out with Matteo. You’ve no idea that I’m barely staying afloat. Jett is here. Here.” I motion with my hands. “And I can’t stop wanting him. It’s like I’m sick and there is no cure. And you don’t care.” I’m screaming, because the sound of the electric saw being used upstairs has taken over, and she needs to hear this.