My phone chimes, and a second later a message from Sam shows up on my computer. I hesitate for half a second and then click on the text preview, opening it up in iMessages on my computer.

Sam: I know you wanted space, and I’ll give it to you. But I want you to know how much I love you, Chloe. How much I always have and how much I always will. I know this isn’t how I thought things would go, but please don’t give up on me.

And now I completely lose my battle with tears. I drink the rest of my wine, spilling it down my chin from sobbing while trying to drink it. I love Sam too, so fucking much. He’s everything to me, and I don’t want to give up on him.

But I also don’t want to share him, and I feel guilty and stupid for letting myself finally admit that. I miss Sam when we’re apart, and the distance is hard enough on us already. Long-distance isn’t ideal for either of us, but it’s what we have to do if we want to be together.

I love Sam.

He loves me.

But is love enough?

If the baby does turn out to be Sam’s it will take first priority—which it should. I believe Sam when he says he doesn’t want to be with Stacey. And I know he will be an amazing father to his child, regardless of who the mother is. And I know I can’t even think about asking him to take a week away from his newborn child to hang out with me in Europe while I’m on set.

I refill my wine, trying to see around the issues. People get divorced and remarried. Sam having a baby with one of his no-strings hookups doesn’t mean we can’t be together. Though it does, and if we lived in the same state, things would be a lot easier.

Taking another big drink of wine, another thought surfaces, and I hate that it even crosses my mind, yet insecure Chloe comes back every now and then, trying to tell me that I’m just some weirdo no one wants to be with.

Sam obviously liked Stacey enough to keep sleeping with her. And if she has his baby, who’s to say they don’t get their very own love story, coming together and realizing they were meant to be, living as one happy family.

The more I drink, the more irrational I become, and my mind wanders even farther into self-destruction territory. Mrs. Harris has always valued family above all else. I know she wants nothing more than for her sons to get married and have babies. If Sam chooses me over Stacey—the mother of his child—will I be the black sheep of the Harris family? By picking me, it’ll make it so Stacey isn’t around as much…meaning the baby wouldn’t be around as much.

Finishing the wine in my glass, I don’t bother refilling it and instead take the bottle with me into the living room. I take a swig, put it on the coffee table, and wrap myself up in a blanket, crying myself to sleep.

Fuck.

I toss the blanket back and knock over the bottle of wine. Luckily, or maybe I should say unfortunately, there isn’t much left. Red wine spills onto my wooden coffee table, and I scramble to upright the bottle before more spills out.

It’s eight-AM and I need to be at Karina’s office by nine-thirty. It could take an hour just to get into the city at this time in the morning, and I need to shower, get dressed, and probably throw up.

Grimacing, I cough as I slowly go to the kitchen to get a towel to clean up the wine. Staying up, crying, and drinking almost an entire bottle of wine was a terrible idea, and even more so since I’m not quite back to being my normal, healthy self.

I force myself to drink a glass of water but can’t bring myself to eat anything. My head pounds and I’m fighting feeling like I’m going to puke the entire time I’m in the shower. I close my eyes as I dry my hair, not styling it at all, but hey, at least I won’t show up with sopping-wet hair.

Traffic is terrible on the way into the city, and I get to the office half an hour late.

“Finally,” Karina huffs when I walk in. “You’re late.”

“I know, sorry.”

“And you look rough. Are you still sick?”

I close the door and push my hair back off my face. “Yeah.” It’s not really a lie. I feel like shit because I’m hungover, but I am still recovering from the flu.

“Are you up for this?”

I nod, not trusting my voice to stay steady. Once I start crying, that’ll be it. Karina looks at me for a second, able to see through my shit, but nods and calls for Zac, a makeup artist, to make me look halfway presentable.

“Rough night?” Zac asks when I get into the chair. He’s done my makeup many times before and knows me pretty well since I get bored and talk the entire time he’s making me look good.

“You could say that.”

“Well, give me some time and no one will know.”

“You’re a lifesaver,” I tell him.

“I’ve been told.” He smiles and lays out his brushes, standing back and giving me a once-over. The plan is for Charles and me to dress like bad guys from the series and go around sunny, cheerful downtown LA and glare at everyone who’s having a better day than me.

Okay, the second part isn’t true. We’re going to see how long it takes before we get recognized, talking to fans of the show, and then end the segment by announcing the cosplay competition. I’m dressed as Jade, a demon who’s made Kellie’s life hell for the last several books. She’s classic evil, being a demon and all, but I don’t really consider her one of the main villains of the series.

Demons are bad because they’re demons. Simple, right? The humans, however, they’re the real bad guys. But Jade is a popular character, and the costume designers had fun dressing her in black leather.

My look is a little more subtle today, in black jeans and a faux-leather crop top. The demon blade Jade carries would be way too obvious—and probably a little alarming to carry into a coffee shop

“Oh wow,” I say when Zac turns me around. “I look good.”

“Of course you do, sweetheart. I did your makeup.”

I smile at my reflection, letting myself slip into character. I want to be Jade right now, to have nerves of steel and not be bothered by human emotion. No one knows yet that Jade joins forces with Kellie in the next book, and they’ll be friends from there on out.

Charles is in Karina’s office, and he’s dressed like Henry, one of the truly nasty people on the show. He was my character Kellie’s ex-boyfriend, who turned against Kellie after finding out she’s a witch. He hates her before she’s different, and is part of an extremist church group who thinks anyone with magic should be eliminated. He’s the exact opposite of the Marcus, and seeing Charles—the male star of the show—dressed like anyone but the vampire he usually plays is weird.

“Damn, I like this look on you,” Charles tells me. “Being goth suits you.”

“And being a self-righteous asshole does not suit you,” I laugh. Charles’s hair is styled differently, and he’s dressed in khakis and a light blue polo shirt. It’s so not his usual look, but Charles is a very good-looking guy and I know his female fans are going to eat this preppy, church-boy look up.

“Ready?” Karina asks us, motioning to the door.

I force another smile and nod, not talking as we walk out the back of her office and get into a black SUV. Charles usually travels with his own bodyguard, and two more have been hired for today. Dressed in plain clothes, they’ll walk around the street, keeping crazy fans away from Charles. And me, I suppose, but I don’t have the same effect Charles does.