Pull over when you get to Waupoos and text me. The cottage is only about ten more minutes from there, but the roads are dark as hell and the turnoff is hard to see. I’ll walk out to the main road with a flashlight, and I’ll flag you down.

Hunter followed the instructions in Jesse’s text, and man, was it ever dark. He and Julian used to camp some, but Julian had been the true outdoorsman, and anyway, it had been years since Hunter’d been out of the city.

Now that he was almost there, he was glad he’d succumbed to Jesse’s insistence that he drive out tonight, despite the fact that an unforeseen emergency had kept him at the hospital late. It would have made much more sense to wait till the morning rather than arriving at—he glanced at the dashboard display—2 a.m.

Well, he’d wanted a new leaf, and 2 a.m. in the middle of nowhere with a rock band definitely qualified.

Pulling out from the tiny hamlet of Waupoos, Hunter headed up the narrow, wooded road toward Jesse’s place. Thankfully, the blanket of dark made it so Jesse couldn’t see the silly grin Hunter broke into when his headlights lit up the rock star, who was standing by the side of the road with his thumb stuck out, hitchhiker style.

“Hey.” Jesse hopped into the car. “Glad you made it.”

“I’m sorry I kept you up.”

“Nah. I’d be up anyway. The others, uncharacteristically, have gone to sleep—there was a mix-up over who was bringing the beer, so it’s a dry night for the guys. But I was on a bit of a tear with a song.” He pointed to an almost unnoticeable dirt road protruding from the forest, and Hunter turned onto it. “Everything okay at the hospital?”

Hunter started to say yes, everything was fine. But everything wasn’t fine, and he realized with a start how much he missed having someone to talk with about work. He didn’t have any doubts about breaking things off with Julian—he couldn’t live stuffed in someone else’s closet any longer—but he missed that closeness, missed having someone who knew his cast of characters. That was probably why he was having trouble cutting ties once and for all, why he was still responding to Julian’s texts.

But actually . . . it was equally startling to realize that Jesse did know his cast of characters. Some of them, at least.

“Well, I’ll be a stereotypical doctor and tell you I have good news and I have bad news. The good news is that Avery’s post-op infection is clearing up nicely, and I think she’ll be able to go home next week.”

“Hey! That’s great. I gotta say, though, I’m going to miss her.”

“I’m under instructions from Madison to tell you that you’re not off the hook because Avery’s going.”

Jesse laughed. “Noted. And I’m happy to stay on the hook.” He paused. “Tell me the bad news too.”

“I had a teenager unexpectedly go into cardiac arrest this evening.” He wished he could say more, tell Jesse about fourteen-year-old James, who was battling a bad lupus flare-up, but patient confidentiality laws prevented him from talking in anything other than generalities.

“Jesus.” Jesse shook his head as he gazed out the window into the black night. “Cardiac arrest is not a phrase you should hear applied to teenager. What happened?”

“We stabilized him. But his parents were three hours away. In some ways, that’s the worst of it for these kids. Life in the hospital is boring. Most kids have at least one parent who’s around the majority of the time. But sometimes they have to go home. They have jobs, other kids.” He swallowed, his throat tightening. “And, of course, the scariest thing that’s ever happened to this kid has to happen the one weekend his parents have gone home. He fronts like he’s too old to be in a children’s hospital, but he needed his parents.” Thinking of James trying so hard to be brave gutted Hunter.

“So what happened?”

“We called them, and they got right in the car.”

“And you stayed with him until they got there.”

Hunter had to swallow again. He still didn’t trust his voice, so he nodded in response.

It sounded so stupid. It wasn’t as if the hospital wasn’t full of people who cared about the kids there. Kind, loving nurses who would have been on duty anyway. Did Hunter think he was irreplaceable? That he was the only constant presence in these kids’ lives?

“You’re a good doctor,” Jesse said softly. Then he laid his hand on Hunter’s upper arm. “A good man.”

Shit, now he really had a lump in his throat. He cleared it. “It’s just . . . hard not to seize any opportunity you can to protect them. To make things easier for them. Because so much of the time you don’t have those opportunities. So much is out of your control.”

“I know.”

Something about Jesse’s tone drew Hunter’s attention. Jesse was staring out the passenger-side window.

“That’s why I used to go to Montreal once a month. My sister and my nephew . . . Well, my sister’s ex-husband is a problem. I held on to that gig longer than was rational. I still go, but only a couple times a year. I wish I could get them to move to Toronto.”

“Why don’t they?”

“My sister has this idea that she shouldn’t take her son away from his father.” He snorted, and Hunter could practically hear his eyes rolling. “Which is actually exactly what she should do.”

“Are they in physical danger?” Hunter asked. He couldn’t help it. It was the pediatrician in him. He’d been trained to conduct these screenings, to ask these questions.

“I think he might have knocked her around some during their marriage.” Jesse gestured to the right. “Turn here.” Hunter obeyed, pulling his car into a large gravel clearing. There were already several cars parked. “This is fine,” Jesse said, and Hunter killed the engine.

Jesse made no move to get out. “She says he’s never laid a hand on Gavin—that’s my nephew—and I believe her. It’s more . . . psychological abuse. Her ex is a real dick. It’s like he can’t accept that she left him. He makes everything difficult—handoffs, any joint decisions like day care and stuff. Won’t sign the divorce papers. He’s constantly undermining her both with Gavin and with Gavin’s teachers. It’s hard to explain. It’s like . . .”

“A campaign of terror,” Hunter said.

With the dashboard lights out, he couldn’t see anything, but he could sense Jesse’s surprise in the way Jesse sat up and turned to him. “Exactly.”

“Classic abusive behavior. They train you to look for the signs of exactly that in med school, and even more so in peds residency.”

“Okay, so I’m not crazy.”

“Not at all. It’s all about power for these guys.”

“Yes!” Then Jesse laughed. “That sounded way too enthusiastic. I’m just glad to have a professional endorsement.”

“I think you’re right to keep looking after them as much as you can. The more she tries to untangle their lives from each other, the more aggressive he may get.”

“I like to think he wouldn’t seriously hurt his child or the mother of his child.”

Hunter shrugged, though he knew Jesse couldn’t see it. He didn’t want to alarm his friend unnecessarily, but these things often escalated.

“Come on.” Jesse got out of the car.

Hunter followed suit.

“You tired?”

“Not really.” He was still buzzing from the adrenaline of the earlier emergency.

“Good. Let’s make a fire. That’s usually what we do at night, but I didn’t want to leave one burning when I left to meet you.” Jesse had come around the car and laid a hand on Hunter’s upper back to guide him across the dark clearing. He was only doing it, of course, because it was pitch-black and Hunter didn’t know the place, but Hunter’s breath quickened.

It was possible the buzzing sensation he was experiencing wasn’t entirely from the events at the hospital.

“This is my favorite place in the world,” Jesse said, once he’d gotten the fire lit—Jesse was effortlessly good at lighting campfires, just like everything else.

“Is this a family place originally?” Hunter asked, watching Jesse tilt his head back to look at the night sky. “You grew up here, right?”

“I grew up in Prince Edward County, yes, but not here.” Jesse snorted. “You know how you never heard anything about Prince Edward County before about ten or fifteen years ago?”

It was true. Today, the cottage country east of Toronto was full of wineries and outposts of chic downtown hotels, but Hunter had the sense that was all pretty recent. “Yeah.”

“Well, I grew up in a tiny armpit of a town about thirty kilometers from here. There was a lot of poverty in the county back then—still is once you’re away from the lake. We lived in a tiny house to match our tiny town, where my father conducted a . . . what did you call it? Campaign of terror?”

“Ah, so your sister is repeating the past. I hate to say it, but that’s not uncommon. Is your father still there?”

“As far as I know. I haven’t spoken to him since our mother’s funeral six years ago.”

“I’m sorry.”

“This sounds terrible, and I don’t mean this like I didn’t love her or I don’t miss her, but it was probably for the best. She was never going to leave him. So my sister—Beth—is stronger in that way. I hope.” He poked the fire. “Anyway, somehow, despite my shitty origins, Prince Edward County feels like home. So I was happy to be able to buy this place a few years ago. Sounds cheesy, but I’d rather be here than anywhere else. And when I’m here, I’d rather be here.” He waved his hands to indicate their immediate surroundings. The fire pit was perched a few meters from the edge of a short cliff that abutted the vast blackness of Lake Ontario at night.

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Hunter contemplated the sky. It was ridiculous. The Milky Way was more white than black.

He started thinking about Beth, and about Jesse’s mom. He had a good relationship with his own parents. He couldn’t imagine having to claw his way out of a cycle of abuse and poverty like that.

“Hey,” he said, a thought suddenly forming in his head. “Is ‘Repeat’ about Beth?”

Jesse didn’t answer for a few moments, and Hunter wondered if he’d overstepped. And really, there was no reason to think the song was about Jesse’s sister. It wasn’t overtly about domestic abuse, merely about a person making the same mistakes, “walking the same plank.”

“Yeah,” Jesse finally said quietly, staring at the fire. “It is. But no one knows that.” He looked up at Hunter. “Except smart doctors.”

“Your secret is safe with me.” Hunter was strangely touched that here was this famous, successful musician, surrounded by people, by fans and managers, and he was choosing to let Hunter be the one who knew this about him.

He wanted to ask Jesse about the origins of all his other songs but held his tongue.

Jesse lay down on his back. “My sister and I used to lie on a blanket in the backyard—no fire; my dad wouldn’t allow that—and try to spot shooting stars so we could wish on them.”

Hunter followed suit, being careful not to lie too close to Jesse. “What did you wish for?”

He regretted the question as soon as it was out. It was too intimate.

But Jesse didn’t seem to mind. “I wished I could get away.”

“You did.” Jesse had gone on to make something of himself, to will his success into being, and it was damned impressive.

“I did. But Beth didn’t. Not really.”

“No,” Hunter said. “But keep trying.”

They lay there in silence for a long time, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Hunter could see why Jesse loved this place. They were surrounded by all the elements—air, fire, earth, and water. It was impossible not to be taken in by it. It was like the universe was reminding him of his rightful place, but instead of being humbling, it was comforting. You could do your best in life—to save your sister from men who would harm her, to prevent children from having heart attacks—but that was all you could do. The universe was, elementally, imperturbable.

“You’re freezing.”

Hunter hadn’t realized it until Jesse said it, but he was. He’d gone home after work and changed into shorts and a T-shirt. It had been hot in the city, even so late at night. But out here, in the middle of the night, by the lake, it was downright cold. He’d put on a light jacket, but that was all he had.

“I probably should have told you to bring warm clothes. Nights get cold out here.” Jesse sat up and reached for something outside the circle of light cast by the fire.

Hunter, assuming this marked the end of their fireside chat, sat up too—was starting to stand up, in fact—when Jesse produced a second blanket. Unlike the one they were lying on, it was a Hudson’s Bay blanket, made of thick, heavy wool. Jesse unfurled it over his body, lay back down, and held one edge up. “C’mere.”

Hunter paused long enough that Jesse let the blanket fall. “Or I can just show you to your room.” He started to get up. “I forget that not everyone is as insane as I am about this place.”

Hunter made a split-second decision. He knew it was the wrong one as he was making it. It was not a good idea to snuggle under a blanket with Jesse Jamison.

He knew that.

And yet.

Hunter picked up the edge of the blanket and slid underneath it.

He did prevent himself from physically cuddling up to Jesse.

But only just.