He returned to his office, where several boxes were stacked together. He hadn’t been able to sleep, so he’d spent much of the night collecting personal items and moving them in here. A few mementos from his marriage, photographs, some artwork he’d bought over the years. Before he went back to Wishing Tree, he would get someone in to go over what he was keeping. All this, his clothes, and everything in the music studio downstairs. Not only the guitars and his piano, but the cabinet filled with half-written songs and ideas, and the notes on everything he and the band had performed. That he would take with him. The rest would stay with the house. He’d sell it furnished. Some up-and-coming rock star or movie executive would appreciate not having to furnish the place.

He showered and dressed, then walked back out to the deck and took a picture to text to Dena.

You’d look good here.

By now she would be in class, so he wouldn’t hear from her for a while, but he was okay with that.

The missing felt good. Wanting her, wishing she was with him, made him feel alive. After so many months of not feeling much of anything, he’d reached the other side and was finally going to start living his life again. There were details to be worked out and decisions to be made—some about his career and the logistics of making his home in Wishing Tree.

His phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, hoping to see a text from Dena, but instead it was the limo driver saying that he was in the driveway, ready to take Micah to the studio. Micah replied that he would be right out.

Traffic was oddly light, and they arrived in less than forty minutes. Micah carried his guitar inside and was immediately met by one of the assistants who would shepherd him through his rehearsal. Before he could introduce himself, Electra burst out of nowhere and threw herself at him.

“Finally!” she said, her voice thick with drama. “Dammit, Micah, why didn’t you call me? I can’t believe you’ve been in town for two days and didn’t get in touch.”

She wrapped her long, thin arms around his neck and ground her body into his. She smelled of expensive perfume, and her jewelry clinked as she moved. She was all angles and edges, and when she tried to kiss him, he quickly sidestepped and drew away.

Her big green eyes widened with surprise. “What’s up with you?”

“It’s good to see you,” he lied.

“Not good enough.” Her mouth formed a pout. “Micah, what’s going on? You always let me know when you’re in town.”