He turned the vehicle off and sighed into the silence.

“How about I make some dinner? Fettuccine?”

I flinched. Fettuccine Alfredo was my favorite meal. Ezra knew that, but that was something Braden could never remember.

“I’m not very hungry,” I muttered, reaching for the door handle.

Before I could slip out of the vehicle he grabbed my arm, halting me. “Don’t let him win.” His eyes bored into me, burning me with their seriousness.

“I’m not,” I argued.

“That’s exactly what you’re doing,” he snapped. “He’s not worth it.”

I sighed, scrubbing a hand over my face. “Ezra,” I huffed, “this just happened. I think I’m allowed a day to wallow over the complete shit-fest that is my life.”

His lips quirked into a small smile and he ducked his head. Releasing my arm, he sobered. “Yeah, you’re right. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too,” I whispered, a frown turning down my lips. He gave me a quizzical look so I quickly explained. “I’m sorry for throwing away our friendship like it meant nothing to me. I was wrong to do that.”

“You felt like you had to.” He sighed heavily. Shaking his head, his black curls tumbled forward to hide his gaze. “I’d be lying if I said that didn’t hurt, especially since Braden is such a prick,” his teeth ground together, “but it was your life and I couldn’t force myself to be a part of it. So, I let you go.”

“And yet, you didn’t let me spend the night in jail. It’s what I deserved.”

He stared at me for a moment. The intensity in his dark eyes rooted me to the spot. “I’ll always have your back.”

I lowered my head, feeling forlorn. Ezra was much too kind to me.

“You should hate me,” I breathed, my words hanging heavily in the air.

He grasped my chin, forcing me to look at him. His eyes seared into me as he spoke. “Friendship doesn’t work like that. I could never hate you for making the decision that you did.”

“Even if it was the wrong one?”

His fingers momentarily tightened against my chin and anger pulsed in his brown eyes. “For you, it was the right decision at the time. Life is a series of choices that we make, some of them are good, and some of them are not, but everything always works out in the end. Things will be better now, you’ll see.”

He released his hold on me and I looked away with a sigh. “Better,” I repeated. “I hope so.”

“I know so.” He reiterated with a smile. “Everything happens for a reason, Sadie. Sometimes we don’t understand why, but eventually we look back and can see that everything worked out.”

“I think it already has,” I whispered.

He nodded at my words, processing them. “Come on,” he reached for the car door handle, “let’s eat. I’m starving.”

This time at the mention of food my stomach came to life.

I climbed out of the large SUV and followed the gravel pathway over to the front porch steps.

He pulled out his house key and swung the door open.

“After you.” He waved a hand.

I stepped inside the cottage and immediately felt an overwhelming sense of comfort. The home was decorated with the coastal colors of navy and white. The floors were a dark hardwood that shined as if they’d just been cleaned. The family room sat to my left with a white couch and chair, with blue and gray throw pillows.

Across from the family room sat the kitchen. It had white cabinets with concrete countertops. The appliances were shiny stainless steel. It was a work of art, and almost looked untouched, but I knew that Ezra wasn’t that kind of guy. He actually enjoyed cooking. His mom had made sure that he, Maddox, and Mathias, all knew how to cook and not just microwave frozen pizza rolls like most guys.

Beside the kitchen was a small table with four chairs, but the area wasn’t large enough to be considered a dining room.

The downstairs also had a small powder room and the laundry room—the laundry room being an addition Ezra had insisted on since the home didn’t have one when he moved in.

Upstairs there were two bedrooms and a shared bathroom.

Straight ahead lay a pair of French double doors that led out to a large deck overlooking the lake. I knew if I went out there he would have several rocking chairs lined up, a grill, and a fire pit. The view of the lake, and the deck, had been one of the things Ezra loved the most about this place.

He’d dragged me to various homes during his house hunt. That seemed like a lifetime ago even though it hadn’t been more than three years.

“You act as if you’ve never seen the place before.” He chuckled, noticing my lingering stare.

I lifted my shoulders in a shrug and gave him a small smile. “I missed this place.”

He beamed at my words. “Yeah?”

I nodded. “This has always been one of my favorite places.”

I always felt at peace here. I didn’t know why. Maybe it was the fact that the home was so cozy and welcoming, or maybe it was the breathtaking view of the lake. Or maybe it was simply because this was where my best friend lived, and being near him filled me with a sense of security.

“You can stay here as long as you need,” he said, moving into the kitchen. He began to rifle through cabinets, setting out pots.

I wrapped my arms around my body, as if I could hold myself together. “Thanks,” I forced a smile. I hated intruding on Ezra’s space, but I was truly thankful for his kindness. Especially after the last six months with no contact. Without him…I didn’t know where I would stay. I couldn’t afford my own place right now.

He flicked a piece of dark hair out of his eyes. “Want to help?” He asked me.

I nodded, stepping around to the other side of the counter beside him. He quickly gave me instructions and I went to work.

We laughed and joked as we cooked, slipping into our once familiar roles as best friends. God, I’d missed this. Ezra might not have been my friend for as long as Emma—who I had known since we were babies—but our bond was just as strong. Sometimes I even felt like it was stronger.

We fixed the table and sat down across from each other to eat.

“So,” I started, picking up my fork, “how was the tour?”

Willow Creek had been on a tour across the United States since January. They’d only been home a few weeks.

“Good,” Ezra nodded. “Tiring, but fun. It was nice to get back out there and play on stage, but I’m also ready to get back in the studio.”

“So, you guys are already working on the next album?” I swirled the noodles around and then took a bite. “Oh my God,” I moaned, “that’s delicious.”

Ezra smiled at my words. “I’m glad you like it.”

“It’s certainly better than a restaurant.”

He’d made the sauce from one of his mom’s recipes and it was as good as I remembered.

“To answer your question,” he reached for a wine bottle, filling each of our glasses, “yes we’re already working on it.”

“Do you guys ever sleep?”

He choked on a laugh. “No, not very much.”

“You all have lots of dedication,” I told him.

He tipped his glass in my direction. “So do you.”

Me?” I snorted. “No.”

He clasped his fingers together, studying me like I was some fascinating specimen. “I don’t know how you can dismiss your accomplishments so easily.”

“They don’t feel like accomplishments when I’m currently homeless.”

He set his glass down, crossing his fingers together. “You’re too hard on yourself. Why?”

It was a simple question, one I should’ve been able to answer, but I couldn’t.

“I think,” he continued when I didn’t speak, “that you need to focus more on your accomplishments and less on your failures.” He slowly raised the glass to his lips.

I sighed, taking another bite of fettuccine to stall for time. “I’ll get right on that.”

He shook his head, fighting a smile. I expected him to call me on my sarcasm like he usually did, but he didn’t.

“You know,” he said, “when I met you, you were…” He paused, his lips twisting as he searched for the right words. “So vibrant,” he settled on, “and from the moment you got with Braden I’ve had to watch him strip your identity from you. You went from this carefree girl to this…shell. It’s like you’re a stranger.”