I tried to insist I was fine, but she reminded me that I kept mixing up orders all day and giving people their wrong usuals. And Frankie told me there was too much money after I cashed out, so I’d clearly short-changed a few people.

“You’re hurting too, Harp. Take a day. Come in on Wednesday and call me tomorrow if you need me.”

I agreed hesitantly and quickly started running a list in my head of what I would do to fill my time.

After cleaning out the refrigerator, throwing out all leftovers and food I knew wouldn’t be touched anytime soon, I scrubbed every tile in the apartment until it shined like new.

I did finally end up eating a chocolate pudding that was in there a week or so. Then I turned on the news to see if any of Troy’s teammates were interviewed about his last few plays.

“Idiots. All of them.”

I sat and watched the replays. Wondering how someone like Troy, who did alright in high school, but was certainly no rock star, could end up drafted into the NHL. Grace had told me they both played in college. Why wouldn’t August make it to the pros?

I scoffed, scraping up the last of the pudding in the cup. “These idiots picked the wrong guy.”

I jerked up on my couch. “Shit. They picked the wrong twin.”

I wouldn’t have believed it if these two didn’t just pull the exact same thing two years later.

That had to be it. It made complete sense. At least when it came to the Hartman brothers.

The next morning, I was too anxious to do anything on the stupid list I made. Most of which had more scrubbing and cleaning things out of those boxes I had yet to unpack.

I did finally take a long hot shower, ate a bagel and made my own cup of instant coffee for the first time since I’d moved back to Brooklyn.

I didn’t allow myself to miss August—no time for heartache or lust. There was a lot more going on and he needed someone to snap him out of it.

Nicole meant well, but she was wrong. I did see the real him. And he was in pain and felt betrayed by everyone around him.

I promised her I wouldn’t call or text. But I never said anything about going to see him.

At three in the afternoon, I showed up at August’s building. It wasn’t hard finding out where he worked. His name was all over the Wall Street Journal, CNBC and Linked In.

Even though my heart was pounding against my chest the entire elevator ride up, I convinced myself this was a good idea. It wasn’t for me. Hell, it wasn’t even about us. I just needed to convince him to stop letting his brother take his glory away.