I reach her front door and smash my fist into it. “Ava,” I shout, hammering at the wood. “Ava!” I reverse my steps and look up at the window, dialing her again. “Pick up, pick up, pick up.” My hand goes into my hair, pulling at the mess of blond. It goes to voicemail, and I stare at my phone in astonishment. “Ava! Answer the fucking door!” Why is she doing this? It’s exhausting. Enraging. Confusing.

Through my fog of despair, I hear the roar of an engine, and I turn to see Sam swinging into a parking space behind my car. He gets out, Kate in tow, and approaches cautiously. I throw my hands into the air. “She’s driving me fucking nuts,” I yell, pointing up at the window. “Will someone please explain what the fuck is going through her head, because the last time I saw her things were pretty fucking amazing?”

Kate throws Sam a nervous look, moving in, bravely rubbing my arm. “Calm down.”

I roll my shoulder to shrug her off. “What has she said?” I ask, pinning Kate in place with expectant eyes. “When she got home on Sunday, what did she say?” I can see she’s torn. “Kate,” I push, feeling fraught, moving in to make sure she can see my desperation. “I need to see her. I know she’s scared, but if I could just see her”—and touch her— “I can show her there’s nothing to be scared of. Please.”

She visibly deflates. “Fine,” she says, pulling her keys out and heading for the door. I follow keenly, using the time it takes Kate to let me in to talk myself down. I don’t wait for a second to figure out if I’ve succeeded. As soon as my path to Ava is open, I’m through the door and charging up the stairs. I can smell her, and I follow that head-spinning scent to the lounge, bursting in. And there she is, standing in the middle of the room in some skimpy shorts and a vest. I relax for the first time in days. She looks unimaginably beautiful, even with that look of alarm splattered all over her face. And, most importantly, she’s in one piece.

Unlike my heart, which is currently in a thousand shards of trauma. She’s okay. I’m not. My relief is quickly diluted by anger.

“Where the fuck have you been?” I yell, knocking her back a step. I can’t stop myself. She needs to know where I’m at. Panicked. Stressed. Frightened. I’m being pushed to the brink of . . . what? Drink? “I’ve been pulling my fucking hair out!”

She says nothing, just stares at me for the longest time, somewhere between shock and disbelief. What the fuck did she expect? I hear Sam and Kate approach behind me, and Ava looks past me to her friend in disappointment.