Chapter 49
HOLLY
He’s sleeping.
He’s so handsome. His profile is beautiful. Even asleep, he looks calm, as if the world never touches him when he rests.
I lie there for a long time, listening to the slow rise and fall of his breath. It’s calming. For a minute I let myself pretend this is how it could have been. His arms around me like I’m the most precious thing, like he’s not letting go. Like I belong here.
Maybe a part of me wanted to believe it too. Just for tonight. When he knelt beside me earlier, something inside me almost surrendered.
We needed this. One night to say goodbye without saying it.
And now… it’s time to move forward.
Once I’m sure he’s fully asleep, I slowly, carefully, slip out from under his arm. He stirs but doesn’t wake, just shifts slightly and drifts back into sleep.
I don’t let myself look back.
He’s got his presentation in a few hours, one of the biggest days of his career.
He’s going to crush it, I know that. And I won’t be there to celebrate with him.
That part stings more than I let on. I wanted to be the first one he called, and I wanted to see that crooked, dimple-y smile when he tells me he won.
He’ll insist on taking me to the airport, and I won’t be able to handle it.
This is a better goodbye, an easier one.
Less agony. For both of us.
I grab my things, pull the door quietly shut behind me, and leave without a sound.
Back at my place, I take the time to look around. The apartment is stripped down to its bones. The furniture is draped with cloth to keep away the dust.
There’s nothing left to do but leave.
I sit on my couch, the only piece I didn’t cover yet. The same couch I dragged in when I first moved here. Dexter helped shove it through that stupidly narrow doorway (and it’s made a suspicious creaking noise ever since). He made me dinner that night too, and made me feel safe.
Now I sit in the quiet, trying to remember why I have to go.
It’s not anger I feel anymore. For the most part, I’ve made peace with what he did. But I can’t pretend trust grows back overnight.
What I’m still angry at is myself. For trusting. For hoping. For believing I could let my guard down and not pay for it. For nearly staying.
Some love is wild.
Some love teaches you to leap.
This one taught me how to be the strongest I can be.
I have dreams. I have people counting on me. And I have a promise to keep. I already changed the course of my life for a man once, and lost myself in the process. I swore I’d never do that again.
No more controlling men.
Dean nearly broke me.
Dexter would shatter me into a million pieces, and I know I’d never survive him.
Because I love him with a mad, crazy love, in a way I never loved Dean—so much, it scares me.
I rest my hand on my belly and close my eyes.
We’ll be okay. I’ll come back, with the babies. Our babies.
I curl up on the couch and close my eyes, hoping for sleep.
It doesn’t come.
At 4 a.m. my phone alarm hums.
I push off the couch, dress quickly, and double-check my bags. Kenzie will be here soon. Most of my stuff is already shipped, but I take one last slow walk through the apartment. Not because I think I’ve forgotten anything, but because I want to see it one more time.
It’s still dark outside. The city is asleep.
Kenzie texts me that she’s about five minutes away. She insisted on driving me, even though I told her I’d take an Uber. She said she didn’t want me to leave without saying goodbye properly.
I grab my suitcase and lock the door behind me.
At the elevator, I glance at Dexter’s door. He needs sleep, and today’s a big day for him. The last thing I want to do is wake him.
Still, I pause.
Before I know it, I find myself digging in my bag for my notepad. I tear off a page, scribble a quick note, and kneel to leave it on his doormat.
The elevator dings and I step in, eyes stinging. I press the button and blink fast, breathing deep, letting the doors close. With the back of my hand I swipe at my cheeks, in a quick, useless attempt to dry the tears.
“Good morning.”
Kenzie is waiting in the garage, leaning against her red Audi with two coffees in hand. “You look like hell,” she says, and passes me a cup.
I hold it for half a second, and the smell hits me like heaven and hell at once. “I can’t. Babies said no.” I give her a weak smile and return it. “You drink it for me.”
“Fine by me. Got your water in the side door.” She loads my suitcase into the trunk, and slides behind the wheel.
“I didn’t sleep. My brain wouldn’t shut up.”
“I bet. You’ve been going nonstop for weeks.” She glances over at me as she pulls out of the garage. “You sure you’ve got everything? Because once I hit the freeway, we’re not turning around.”
I look out the window.
My last look at this street, at this block, and my apartment. The few leaves left on the trees shiver in the wind. A lone cab hums by. “Yeah, I’m ready.”
The ride is calm. Just soft music by Sting in the background, “Desert Rose.” Storefront gates are still down, sidewalks slick from the night, steam curling out of a grate. The city hasn’t kicked into gear yet. I press my palms together. This is really happening.
I sip my water even though my stomach is in knots.
When we reach the airport, Kenzie parks and gets out first. She walks around to my side, opens the door, and pulls me into a hug that nearly breaks me. I hug her back just as tightly, trying not to cry.
“I’ve got vacation days banked.” Her voice is shaky. “I’m using them. I’ll come see you as soon as you’re settled. I refuse to let you cry alone in a new country.”
My throat tightens, and I can’t help the tears that start to fall.
“Don’t cry,” Kenzie begs, wiping her face. “Because then I’ll cry. With zero dignity.”
We cry anyway. And laugh. We’re a mess, laughing and sobbing at the same time.
Kenzie loads my bags onto a luggage cart and hands it off to me with a brave smile. “Text me when you land, okay? No ghosting me across the Atlantic.”
“I promise.”
Waving, I take a deep breath and walk into the terminal.
Inside, the airport is in full swing. Suitcases roll across the floor, heels click against the tiles, and somewhere nearby a kid is already crying. I weave my way to the counter, nerves jangling, palms damp against the handle of my bag.
The pretty blonde agent scans my info and smiles. “You’ve been upgraded, Ms. Bishop.”
I blink. “Wait, really?”
She hands me my ticket. “The note says a special someone wants you to have a good flight.”
My chest tightens.
Dexter.
I pass through security, ticket clutched in hand. My fingers are trembling as I peer at it again and again: first class.
Of course he did.
I shake my head, smiling to myself. He hates that I’m leaving, but he still did this. No guilt trip, no lecture, no turning it into something ugly. Just a sweet gesture that… feels like goodbye. It’s him loosening his grip at last. Maybe this is how he lets me go.
I check my phone.
Nothing.
Me:
I’m at the airport.
First-class lounge, thanks to you. I feel very fancy and slightly out of place.
You’d better ace that meeting. Go knock ’em dead!
I read it twice.
Now all I have to do is wait for my plane to start boarding. I’ve got more than an hour, so I grab a plain bagel from the lounge buffet and sit by the window. My stomach is still a mess, but the carbs help. I sit quietly, chewing, and watch the lights of the planes coming and going.
Half an hour later, I glance at my phone one more time. Still nothing, but my messages are marked as Read.
He’s already up, showering, shaving, black tie folded beside the sink (or rather in whatever precise spot he’s decided qualifies as its rightful place), getting dressed, running through his opening lines.
Exactly where he should be.
I slide my phone back into my pocket and glance across the lounge toward the entrance. A tall man with dark hair walks in, wearing a suit jacket and blue jeans.
Dexter? Oh my God!
I jump up.
He came!
For a brief second, my breath catches.
Then he turns... and it isn’t him. My heartbeat drops back where it belongs.
Of course it’s not Dexter. His day is packed, and his head is where it’s always been. On work.
I get up to grab another bagel. Back in my seat by the window, I tear it apart piece by piece. When it starts tasting too wholesome, I get up to snag a travel pack of Oreos from a little bowl of grab-and-go snacks by the coffee station.
At this point, I’m not sure if it’s the pregnancy, the flying nerves, or the rush of adrenaline from thinking I saw Dexter that’s making me lightheaded.
No pills, not with the babies, I tell myself.
Just hydration, light food, and ginger tea.
Luckily first class doesn’t disappoint. After I pour myself a cup, I tear the package open, peel back the plastic, and take both cookies out.
I eat the last bite of the Oreo just as the announcer’s voice crackles over the lounge speakers.
“Passengers on Flight 284 to London, boarding will begin in ten minutes.”
There’s something ethereal about airports in the early morning. My apartment feels a thousand miles away already. So does Dexter.
Without rushing, I finish my ginger tea and stop by the lounge bathroom (honestly, too sleek and elegant for a room built around plumbing, if you ask my design eye).
Just like that, it’s time.
I put my phone on airplane mode.
With a hand on my stomach, I stand and walk toward the gate with hopeful steps.