My phone rings and I check the display. It's the same number my brother texted to me as Kade's.

I take a big swig of the Limoncello before I answer. "Hello."

"Ariella, where are you? Are you okay?"

It's nice to know I'm missed. My intentions weren't to make them worry when I left after the concert. I just wanted to avoid any more conflict, and I was ready to be with the boy I loved—the one who I thought loved me.

"I did like you said, I Googled him. I'm so sorry, Kade. Tell your sister I'm sorry, and I know how she feels."

"Where are you, Ari? Are you with him?"

A cynical laugh erupts from me. Of course, he'd call me Ari when he pities me. Poor Ari, so young and naïve, I couldn't see that my boyfriend was out fucking whoever was willing. I wouldn't give it up, so he found someone who would.

"Everyone thinks I'm so stupid, and they're right. I believed him when he told me people would distort the truth and that it's best if I didn't pay attention to the rumors. You would think it's impossible for Asher to hide what he was doing, but not when it comes to me." More Limoncello burns its way down my throat. "I may be late to the party, but I get it now, Kade."

"It's not your fault. You loved him and wanted to keep your relationship safe. I can respect that."

"But he didn't, did he? He did what he wanted and kept me on the side and in the dark. For two years, he's strung me along, and I let it happen."

My phone beeps with an incoming call. I look at the screen and hit ignore, and no sooner does it ring again.

"Maybe you should get that?" Kade says.

"I don't want to talk to him."

"So, you're not with him?"

"No."

"Are you drinking?"

"Yep."

My phone is going crazy, and I hit ignore again, wishing he'd get a clue and go away.

"Did he really hurt your sister?" I ask.

"Yeah, she liked him a lot."

"Did you call him out on what he did?"

Kade groans and takes a deep breath. "He fucked around on my sister. What do you think I did?"

"Well, if you're my brother, you just sit back and watch me make a fool of myself." I swallow more alcohol. "I gave a good show, didn't I? I bet it was comical watching me gush over some guy who couldn't care less about me."

"I think Nicky didn't want to see you hurt and was letting you make your own decision. Your brother doesn't like him; we'd spoken a couple of times about it."

Of course they did. Everyone knew what was going on but me. I just carried on blindly in love.

"Why do you hate me, Kade? Is it because I'm his girlfriend?"

He blows out a puff of air and says, "I made a stupid assumption about you. You proved me wrong weeks ago."

"What did you think?" I need to know his thoughts. Maybe he saw something in me I didn't see in myself, and his first impression of me was right. Or perhaps hearing his negative feelings for me is a sick way of punishing myself for being so completely stupid.

"Ari," he says, drawing out my name.

"Tell me, I want to know."

"I thought there was no way you did not know what kind of guy Prescott is. If you knew about his track record, you could only be with him for the fame and money. When I recognized you that first day on tour, I freaked out. I was so sure you were going to move in on my friends, and I wanted to protect them. I mistook the friendships you made with them as something it wasn't."

I double over in pain and take it back; I long to hear one good thing about me. Just one redeeming quality.

"What made you think of me differently?"

"I don't know. Maybe the day I insulted you after you were racing the golf carts, or the day we talked it out. During our time at the vineyard, I knew you weren't who I thought you were. Seeing you with your grandmother, and the way you care for your family, was eye-opening."

"Why didn't you tell me about Asher and your sister?"

"I didn't want to see you hurt."

No one told me anything because they were all trying to protect me, but what did they think was going to happen when I found out? They had to know I'd eventually learn the truth. The big question is—would I have believed them if they had?

I spent years protecting Asher and ignoring my family's gentle warnings. I thought I understood him better than them, and they were just feeding into the lies conjured by a greedy media. But it was me wrapped up in the lies.

"Did he sleep with Georgia?" I'm a glutton for punishment. It can't hurt any worse than it does now, can it?

"Ari, I don't think—"

"Dammit, Kade, just tell me!"

"Yeah, he slept with her."

The truth hurts so much, and my damaged emotions flow out of my mouth. "Maybe I didn't love him enough. I was waiting for it to be like it was for my mom and Nonna—a cosmic awakening like fireworks. This moment when my world was totally aligned with his, and I knew I couldn't live without him. It didn't happen the way they said, so I never slept with him. We were together for two years, and I never gave it up because I was waiting for some fairy tale notion. I was waiting until I wanted him so badly that I ached without him."

I'm a sobbing mess, unable to wipe away the tears quick enough, and they soak the front of my dress.

"Ari, where are you? I'm coming to get you?" he says.

I don't want him worrying about me. It's not the point of my phone call. I just want to apologize for my asshole of a boyfriend.

Wiping my face with the end of my dress, I say, "I'm sorry. You don't need to come. I'm someplace safe. You're so sweet. Will you please tell your sister I'm so sorry? I didn't know."

"You don't need to apologize for him. You did nothing wrong. I'm sorry for the way he treated you."

"I put myself in this situation; I deserved it." The tears threaten to break free again. "Just tell your sister, all right?"

"All right."

I hang up before I cry again and look around the room—it's spinning out of control. My stomach flips and I rush to the toilet, retching and struggling to take in more air. Sweat covers very inch of my skin, and every joint hurts like I've worked them too hard. This is my body's way of torturing me for being negligent, both physically and emotionally.

At some point in the night, I crawl to the bed and shed all my clothes. There is a vibration against my hand, bringing me back to a conscious state. I pry my eyes open and lift my phone to my face. It is six in the morning, and the display reads Nonna. With a moan, I answer and place the phone to my ear.

"Ariella James, are you there?" Damn her for sounding alert so early.

"Yeah."

"You need to get up and help Camila in the kitchen."

What the hell? I'm tempted to hang up on her, but it would do me no good. She'd just call the main house and make Zio walk out here with his phone.

"I'm not feeling well, Nonna," I grumble into the sheets.

She makes a disapproving sound. "That is because you took the Limoncello from your zio's freezer again, but this time, you did not have anyone to share it with."

I swear to God, it's impossible for me to breathe without her knowing.

She continues, "You know the truth, and now, it is time to get up and live your life differently. You must not waste any more tears on a boy who does not have your heart, and you do not have his. Now you must get up and cook breakfast."

My drunken fog subsides, and I try not to cry as the memories from last night become clear. "He did have my heart, Nonna."

"No, mia nipote, he did not. He had your friendship, and you gave him your loyalty, but Asher Prescott never had your heart. If you look closely, you will find that to be true."

All this inner searching and knowing things to be true is such garbage. If I had any idea, this is how it would end, I would have never let it start and spared myself this pain. I felt enough hurt for a lifetime when my mom passed away. I never thought Asher would hurt me in a way that compared to that terrible loss. This was not what I would've chosen to set myself up for.

"Come on, it is time to get up, Ariella. You must let yourself be upset at Asher for what he has done, and you must not let him hinder your life from moving forward any longer."

"Okay." There's no choice but to give in to her requests. Even though I don't understand where she's coming from half of the time, I know that she possesses knowledge that I've yet to grasp. I don't want to be the girl who lives my life always through trial and error. If Nonna is here to guide me, I'm going to let her.

"Brava ragazza, mia nipote," she praises me.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, I pick the empty liquor bottle off the floor. "Would you still say I'm a good girl if I told you I drank this entire bottle of Limoncello by myself?"

"I would say you're going to have a hell of a time getting through your day, but you are still a good girl, Ariella."