SIX MONTHS LATER
On the day of my court hearing, I’m a nervous wreck. If it weren’t for Rafael sitting in the gallery behind me, close enough to give my shoulder a squeeze every now and then, I might have crumbled under the judge’s harsh stare.
Ava looks poised and proper in a designer blazer and pants. She doesn’t acknowledge me, let alone look in my direction once. I prefer it that way, although my heart does a betraying squeeze when we accidentally lock eyes while she takes the stand.
I do the same soon after, along with some other eyewitnesses, including Darius. Rafael looks murderous during his testimony, although my boyfriend’s temper cools slightly when Darius admits that I played a major role in Ava’s songwriting process.
The opposing counsel calls Cole to testify as well, although their plan on catching me in another made-up cheating scandal backfires when Cole explains his breakup with Phoebe.
The final witness—the record label’s accountant—seals my future as a millionaire. According to their reports, the profits Ava made from my stolen songs grossed money beyond my wildest dreams, and it turns out her original settlement offer was only a drop in the bucket, especially when music streaming platforms, royalties, and touring revenue are considered.
I’m not surprised when the judge rules in my favor, although I find it hard to believe, even after she slams the gavel and makes her final ruling.
“Congratulations, Ms. Sinclair.” My lawyer holds her hand out, and mine trembles as I shake it.
Based on the money I was awarded, Ms. Copper is going to be buying a lot more designer clothes, that’s for sure.
“I’m so fucking proud of you.” Rafael pulls me into a hug.
I blink a few times. “I didn’t do anything.”
“You could have taken the settlement money and avoided court altogether.”
“I couldn’t.”
He cups my cheek. “I know.”
Willow yanks me away from Rafael, throws her arms around me, and whispers into my ear, “You won!”
My face turns red. “I guess so.”
“How does it feel?”
“To be a millionaire?” I ask.
“No! To beat the Wicked Witch of West Hollywood!”
“Is that what they’re calling her?”
Willow winks. “Do you like it? I came up with it myself.”
My laugh is cut off by a chair scraping against the marble floor as Ava rises onto her stiletto heels. Neither Rafael, Willow, nor I look in her direction, which seems to anger her based on the way she walks over to my side of the courtroom and clears her throat.
“Ava.” Cole steps in front of the table, blocking her from view. “I’d say it’s nice to see you, but my grandma raised me not to lie.”
“Aw. Was your mom too busy screwing her security guard to teach you herself?”
Exactly how small is Hollywood? Because these two seem way too familiar with one another, and I had absolutely no idea.
Cole’s laugh is jarring when compared to the ones I’ve heard before, and it makes the hairs on the back of my neck rise. “Perhaps you should save that sharp tongue for your new songs.”
“If I want songwriting advice from someone who hasn’t won a single award for theirs, I’ll be sure to ask you for help,” Ava sneers.
“Speaking of awards, you owe Ellie that Grammy of yours.” Willow steps beside Cole, earning a glance from him. His brows furrow for a moment before his sly smile slips back into place.
Ava lets out a long, dramatic sigh. “Ellie?”
I stiffen. After more than a year wishing that Ava had given me a chance to explain my side of the story, I no longer feel the same way.
I’m ready to move on. For good.
Rafael’s head snaps in her direction, and his thunderous expression reminds me of dark clouds looming before the sky opens up. “She clearly doesn’t want to speak to you, so do us all a favor and go.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch her squinting at him. “And you are?”
“Your worst nightmare if you don’t find the closest exit.”
Ava sucks in a breath. “Wait. Aren’t you Rafael Lopez?”
He ignores her.
Cole motions toward the exit. “Goodbye, Ava. Tell Darius that I’ll see him in hell.”
Her heels click against the marble flooring as she walks through the exit.
“What was that all about?” I ask Cole once she leaves.
He shrugs. “I really can’t stand her boyfriend.”
“You’re telling me,” Rafael says before he and Cole share a look. Since my trip to Europe, the two of them have become friendlier, especially since Cole visits Lake Wisteria more often now in hopes of us writing another successful album together.
I don’t plan on ever asking Cole why he hates Darius, but I have a feeling it is personal, along with whatever anger he holds toward Ava. I’m not sure what happened in the year since I left Los Angeles, but I doubt I’ll ever get an answer out of Cole, so there’s no point in giving it much thought.
“Anyone up for some drinks?” Cole plasters on his usual smile, although the haunted look in his eyes remains.
“Hell yes.” Willow tosses her hair over her shoulder.
Rafael looks down at me, and I nod.
“Just one.”
Willow and Cole head back to Lake Wisteria while Rafael and I stay in Los Angeles for the next few days to wrap up the legal process and leave everything with Ava behind. By the time we are ready to meet with Ms. Copper to sign a few documents and receive my first official check, I’m desperate to go back home and never return.
A few paparazzi got wind of our story and the judge’s ruling, which means my name is trending on social media. I thought Ava having her America’s sweetheart sash revoked would make me happy, but all I feel is apathy toward the situation, which is a clear sign that I’m ready to move on.
“This is it?” My gaze flickers between the check, Rafael sitting beside me, and the lawyer standing on the other side of the conference table.
Ms. Copper tilts her head. “Were you expecting more?”
I stare at the check. “No, but…” I was hoping it would make me feel better or, at the very least, make me a little happy to know Ava finally had to pay up for her choices. Instead, all I feel is indifference toward the whole situation.
Hell, a text from my mom confirming Rafael, Nico, and I can come over for dinner this weekend brought more emotion out of me, and we have been doing that every other Sunday for the last six months.
“But what?” Ms. Copper asks.
“I thought it would mean more to me.”
Her eyes soften at the edges, which is a rare thing for her. In the few months I’ve been working with Ms. Copper and her legal team, I’ve learned she is as ruthless as she is smart.
“I see,” she says.
“After waiting this long for closure, I’m just…”
“Disappointed?” she offers.
“Yes.”
Rafael grips my hand under the conference room table.
“Cases like these can draw mixed emotions for some people. On the one hand, you get rightful compensation for being wronged, but on the other, you never get the closure you want. At least not unless you pursue it yourself.”
“Do I have to accept the money?” The lawyer already took a cut from the settlement agreement, so it isn’t like I need to do anything else, right?
Her lips purse. “Technically, you have to physically accept the checks, but what you choose to do with them is up to you. Same can be applied to any future royalties earned.”
“So, I can never cash it if I don’t want to?”
Rafael’s lips twitch.
“Not if you don’t want to.”
Once upon a time, I wanted nothing more than to be compensated for my work, but now that I have the opportunity to be, it makes me physically ill.
While I didn’t accept Rafael’s severance pay, I’m making plenty of money working with Cole, so I don’t need Ava’s. In fact, I don’t want anything to do with her stolen work or whatever royalties she made from it, especially if accepting it would make me feel worse than before.
I’ve moved on. I’m making a name for myself that has nothing to do with her, and I want to keep it that way.
After thanking Ms. Copper for everything she has done, I swipe the check off the table and walk out of the conference room with my head held high and my boyfriend by my side.
At my request, Rafael drives me to a local bank to cash my check. I’ve never seen so much money in my account at one time, but it only remains there for a total of ten minutes while the teller writes me a cashier’s check to a nonprofit charity that helps children who are struggling like I was.
I don’t need to look up the name because it is the same charity that helped my mom pay for psychological services after my father refused to. Because of donations like the one I’m about to make, my mom was able to find a therapist that helped me, and I hope that my anonymous contribution can do the same for many others.
For the first time today, I have a smile on my face as we exit the bank.
“I’m proud of you.” Rafael wraps his arm around my shoulder and kisses the top of my head.
“I didn’t do anything but cash a check.”
“You could have chosen to keep that money.”
I scrunch my nose. “I don’t want it.” Which is exactly why I plan on donating any residuals I receive from her work.
His eyes sparkle. “I know, but a lot of people would have kept it anyway.”
“Yeah, well, a lot of people aren’t getting paid to write songs for Cole Griffin, so…” I wink.
He laughs, and it may be my favorite sound, only second to his son’s.
When our plane lands at the Detroit airport, Rafael asks me how I want to celebrate finally being done with Ava and the legal case, and I tell him to take me home.
Not to my parents’ house but to our home.
His smile doesn’t drop throughout the entire drive back to our house on the hill. He has been asking me to move back in for a month, but I kept pushing it off because I wanted us to be certain we were both ready for that next step. To be honest, I’m still surprised he was the one who suggested it first, given his opposition to relationships just over six months ago.
First, he said he was tired of co-parenting our six cats without me and thought it would be best if I moved back. Then, he tried to get Nico to convince me, but I stood strong and said no—much to Rafael’s surprise—because I still wasn’t sure if it was the best idea.
It wasn’t until last week, when he gifted me a set of gold earrings in the shape of hibiscus flowers, that I knew we were both ready.
For the days I’m not able to put flowers in your hair, Rafael said when I opened the box.
I know he hadn’t meant to make me cry, but it hit me then how much I wanted to wake up every day to him handpicking a flower to put in my hair. The same flowers he spends hours tending to in his new greenhouse, solely because he never wants me to go a single day without one.
I never want to go a single day without him because he is the one who inspired the greatest unwritten love song of all.
Ours.
