“Hey, lady!” Karina says with way too much pep. I thought for sure I’d get tons of sleep today, but it’s turning out to be just as unrestful as the hospital, though I have napped on and off throughout the day.

“Hey,” I reply.

“You sound sick. Is everything okay? Do I need to cancel tomorrow?”

“No,” I assure her. “I’ll be there. I was almost asleep when you called.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Chloe. Do you want to call me back later?”

“It’s okay.” I sit up, blinking as I look out at the city below. The sun is setting, and I’ve been on the couch pretty much all day. Sam will be home soon, and I want to have something ready for him for dinner, so it’s a good thing Karina called and woke me up. “What is the plan for tomorrow?”

“I was thinking we could stage a little something-something between you and Charles to get the media talking again, speculating you two are back together.”

“But that photo of me with Sam just came out.”

“Exactly.”

I can see her smiling as she talks, and a bad feeling sinks in the pit of my stomach. “Why would I pretend to be dating Charles when I’m happy with Sam. I’ve been posting about him on social media and everything.”

“I know. It’ll get people talking. They’ll speculate for a few days and them come back to the conclusion you two are friends.”

I wrinkle my nose. This is only one of the few times I’ve disagreed with Karina on something. I have no doubt acting out this plan will get us exactly what we want, but at what cost? Sam doesn’t know the truth about Charles, and I don’t want to betray the trust Charles and I have in each other to tell Sam the truth before Charles is ready…though…then again…I trust Sam not to say anything to anyone.

“Can’t we dress like the characters and walk around downtown LA instead?” I ask.

“You already did that,” Karina shoots right back.

“What if I dressed like Marcus and he dressed like Kellie?”

“Hmmm,” Karina muses while she thinks. “I kind of like that idea. Let me talk to my assistant and see if she can get gender-bending costumes ready for you two. It’s on brand with the series, actually. Breaking out of the mold and all.”

“Yes.” I smile and let out a breath of relief. “It’s very fitting. Maybe we could create a hashtag and have people show off their own Nightfall cosplay or something? Winner gets an early signed copy or a dinner with Charles?” I don’t feel bad for pimping him out that way. He eats that kind of attention up. Charles really is a good guy but isn’t ashamed to admit a big selling point for him on becoming an actor was the fame and adoration from perfect strangers.

“You know what…that’s brilliant, and I think I know how I can spin this. What about you guys dress up as villains from the series and walk around downtown, interacting with people, and we can stage a few interviews. It’ll get you trending, that’s for sure.”

“That sounds fun,” I say, thankful Charles will be there with me to take the lead. “Rebecca is booking my flight for late tonight, so do you want me to come to your office in the morning?”

“Let me iron out some details and then I’ll text you.”

“Sounds good.”

“Yay! It’s going to be great tomorrow, Chloe!”

“Yeah, it will be.” I smile as I end the call, mind getting a little ahead of itself. I imagine showing up tomorrow with a sparkling ring on my left hand, and if Charles and I are photographed together with that bling, people will suspect we got engaged.

Then I can drop the bomb on everyone with a cleverly written caption to a photo of Sam kissing me, of course. I try not got get too preachy or overly sappy on my social, but a quick few sentences about how facing adversity and love surviving years apart will be perfect.

I put my phone on the coffee table and get up, going into the kitchen and rooting through Sam’s fridge and pantry for something to make for dinner. I ordered groceries before we left, and most of the food is still fresh. Wanting to make something easy, I decide on chicken parmesan and spaghetti. I set out the dry ingredients and mix up the parmesan, breadcrumbs, and spices, getting things all ready for when Sam comes home.

Sam texts me as I’m straightening up the kitchen, making sure that I’m—again—resting and taking care of myself. It’s nice, of course, to have someone care this much. It’s even nicer to have someone more than willing to go above and beyond to make me as comfortable as possible when I feel like shit. I remember both Dad and I doing the same thing for Mom when she was really sick, but it scared me. Because Mom was independent. She was the one who made sure I was myself, who told me never to be ashamed of who I was. To hold strong and fast to my beliefs and take no shit for being different.

She and Dad knew about the cancer for years before they told me, with the hope she’d go into remission and be fine. But I think Mom knew, deep down, that she wasn’t going to make it through and that’s why she started instilling those strong beliefs and pieces of wisdom on me from a young age.

It’s been years since she died, and I still miss her just as much every day. I wish she were here now, to see how Sam and I finally came together, how everything is working out perfectly in my life. Too perfect, in my eyes, and I know Mom would laugh and tell me to accept things for what they are. Don’t go looking for a problem, she’d tell me. Or you’ll find one that wasn’t there to start with.

It took me years to understand that advice, even though she repeated it over and over. I was too young to get it at first. How could you find a problem that wasn’t there? That didn’t make sense.

Yawning, I go back into the living room heart a little heavy. I get comfy and pull the blankets over my shoulders. My eyes are closed for only minute before my phone rings.

Grumbling, I sit up and see it’s my agent calling.

“Hello?”

“Hey! How are you feeling? I can’t believe you got so sick so fast!” Vanessa asks.

“I’m doing much better now.”

“Great! Is this a good time? You’re home and on the mend, right?”

“Yeah, I’m home, well, at my boyfriend’s house in Chicago but it’s kinda like home now.” The words leave my lips with ease, and I smile. This does feel like home.

“Good. I spoke to the network again and they really want you. Like really. We can easily push for more money and a much better contract. And I was able to get them to work with us on the whole issue of using your name on something you didn’t actually write. They asked if you’d be okay with having in collaboration with Chloe Fisher for the other seasons, and I went ahead and told them you’d only agree to that if you were actually in collaboration with them. So you have the option to sit in the writers’ room and give final approval, or they’ll scratch your name completely once you’re not writing for them anymore.”

“Oh wow.”

“Yeah. They really want you, Chloe. I think they’ll end up agreeing to keep you on, and if season one is a success, I want to be able to fine tune the contract for the remaining seasons. We’re talking bigger payday and creative control.”