Wilson's POVLee Calloway.His form towered above me, a puzzled expression on his well-featured face. Maybe it wasn't right to think this now, but I couldn't believe how handsome he was. He was like some kind of model or Disney prince or something. He shared Bennett's dark hair and green eyes, but Lee's were contrasted by his pale skin. The word angel flitted to mind.This wasn't how I pictured him to look like, mainly because I pictured him in a coffin, but somehow it made sense that he looked like this. It just fit. Lee Calloway, the angel.Who wasn't dead."Are you okay?" he asked, his gaze lingering on my face.His question starled me and I quickly brushed some stray tears away, feeling embarrassed. Crying in front of strangers wasn't my thing. Especially not my whatever's older brother.Well, ex-whatever."Lee," Bennett said again, his voice sounding more frantic. "What are you doing here? Is everything okay? Does Mom know you're here? Are you okay?""One question at a time, Ben,

Georgia's POVEmpty.That's how the house felt. Maybe it was how I felt too. Rain beat against the windowpanes, blurring my view of the outside world from where I stood in my living room. Droplets of rain fell from my hair and dropped onto the tiled floor, already muddy and marked from my shoes. I realized belatedly I'd forgotten to take them off.The windows reflected my white washed image but I could barely process it. All I could see was the image my mind kept replaying- of Wilson, tears in his eyes, walking away from me. Straight into Lee.I gasped, grabbing my chest as it clenched agonizingly. My body tensed, trying to fight the pain and waiting for it to pass. Spots blurred my vision and I staggered to the stairs, using the railing as support to pull myself up them and into my bathroom. Locating my strongest bottle of pain relievers, I dumped a couple into my hand, swallowing them down dry.What was Lee doing here? How was he here? Why didn't anyone tell me he was coming? Had I

Wilson's POVWhat. The. Hell.I stared out the window of the car, my heart racing. Georgia's words rang in my ears-I love you, I love you, I love you. Why did she say that? How could she say she loved me when she was the one who broke up with me?Why ask me to stay when a few hours earlier she'd told me to leave? Was I just supposed to go along with her mood swings? Whether it was her mother's doing or not, why did I have to be dragged along?My hands balled into fists. It wasn't fair to me. Bennett had said he made his choice. He made it pretty dang clear. I was confused enough as it was. I kept telling myself to pin it off as drunken babbling, but there was that part of me that wanted it to be true. A very stupid, pitiable part of me."Are you okay, Henley?" Henry asked quietly."I don't know," I said honestly. "I'm not sure if you've noticed but I'm not good at, you know, emotions.""Do you want to talk about it?"My lip twitched, breaking my temper. Henry was too good of a person.

Georgia's Pov"Be there at six o' clock sharp, no later. I've already ordered the flowers, as you apparently couldn't handle that task last time, so you simply have to pick them up. Be polite and courteous. Next week I want to set up dinner with Cecil and his wife, so you better leave a good impression. Carlo picked the restaurant so let him suggest what the best meal is and take his advice."It was hard to focus on my mother's words as I stood in front of my bathroom sink, trying to keep my stomach from twisting and crling and its contents from coming out. My mouth was dry and tasted like old leather, no matter how much water I sucked down. And then there was the headache. I didn't know how I was handling her shrill voice when it felt like Muhammad Ali was having a boxing match with my brain. I couldn't remember the last time I had a hangover this bad.I never wanted to drink again."Are you listening?""Yes.""Why do you sound like that? Did you go drinking?"How did she know these