“Promise me something. Go and live your life. Don’t search for me and try not to think about me. But if life doesn’t work out as planned, be there.”

“Where?” she cried, clinging to his arms.

“At the diner where we met. Same day, same time, ten years from now. If we both show up, we’ll take it from there. But if one of us doesn’t, then the other needs to be all right with that and move on. Can you do that for me, Joy?”

She nodded vigorously.

“I promise I’ll do the same.”

“Yes. Yes!” she said, fresh tears flowing. She kissed him, and in her kiss, he felt it. Joy’s hope.

“Ten years, Joy,” he said, taking a step back.

“Ten years.”

He smiled and turned away. He strode back toward the door, picking up his stuff along the way. This time, he didn’t need to look back because there were possibilities in front of him.

There was Joy.

CHAPTER 30

CHAPTER 30

AFTER

Dylan

Sunsets from the deck of Nobu Malibu can be among the most stunning along the SoCal coast. It was an intimate affair by industry standards, but Chase had booked the entire restaurant to celebrate his and Dakota’s marriage. They’d toasted their nuptials, eaten the most amazing Asian fusion meal Dylan had had in a long time, and cut the cake. But as the sickly happy couple mingles with their guests, he finds a somewhat quiet corner on the deck to nurse his envy and pour four fingers of Macallan into his gut.

He’s thrilled for Chase and Dakota, don’t get him wrong. But seeing how taken his cousin has been with Dakota makes him second-guess a belief he’s adamantly held on to for apparently no reason other than to make himself miserable. That a Westfield cannot work in the music industry and have a successful long-term relationship.

Dylan leans on the deck rail and tips back a mouthful of the malted liquor. It burns hot going down his throat like the bright orange orb dipping below the horizon. The father of the groom comes up beside him. He can smell Cal before he sees his uncle in his peripheral vision. The pungent aroma of his cigarettes is as fresh as it’s old, embedded in the fibers of his clothing. He saw Cal step out earlier for a smoke.

Cal sets his lowball beside Dylan’s and leans on the rail. He narrows his focus on a young woman jogging along the beach with her dog. Good ole Cal. He hasn’t changed. Always on the lookout for his next hookup.