The Love Song — Episode 9

He was too busy being the version of himself I'd always wanted. Attentive, gentle, present. Just not with me. He stopped.

Pulled out his phone. Dialed. His brow frowled. Call wouldn't go through.

Of course not. I'd blocked every number I had for him. He borrowed a friend's phone. Mine rang.

Unknown number. I answered before I could stop myself. You blocked me? Real mature, Willa.

I'm flying out, probably won't have signal. Don't cry about it. And have fun figuring out New York on your own. See how long you last without me.

I said nothing. Powered off. And I stood there, watching from thirty feet away as lennox hale took sienna blake's hand and turned left toward gate b i turned right toward

two backs moving apart getting smaller six years ending at a fork in an airport corridor london was supposed to fix me aunt claire kept me busy museums markets long walks along the thames i helped nan reorganize her entire garden i ate fish and trids until i never wanted to see piece of battered cod i didn't add him back on anything but my friends weren't as disciplined

every few days someone forwarded me one of his posts lennox and aspen lennox on a lift lennox at a rooftop party, and in every single photo, Sienna, pressed against the exact space that to be mine. At 2am when the 8 got bad, I'd scold myself in the mirror. Don't be pathetic, Willa, he'll only respect you even less if you crawl back. Three weeks in, I started making things

again. Not for the band, for me. I cut together a short piece from footage I'd shot around London, golden hour on Tower Bridge, rain on cobblestones, Nan laughing in her garden, scored