“Yeah,” I say. “I think that’s for the best.”

I look up at his handsome, scruffy face. I wish he’d give me his charming smile one more time—the one that drove me crazy at first. Now I think it would just make me feel warm and happy.

Instead, Raylan pulls me close in a hug.

As he lets me go, he brushes my cheek with a rough kiss.

I grab his face and kiss him softly on the mouth instead.

“Thank you,” I say, again.

I turn away from him and hurry over to the car. I don’t look back at him, but my ears are straining. Listening in case he calls out to me.

Raylan doesn’t shout for me to stop. He just watches as I get into the SUV and start the engine.

I wave to him in the rearview mirror. He holds up his hand in return as I drive away.

* * *

It takes me all day long to drive back to Chicago. It’s the longest and most depressing drive of my life. Every moment of it feels wrong. My stomach is tight, and my temples throb with a headache.

I tell myself that I’m doing the right thing.

Raylan and I are too different to be together. We want completely different things out of life. He told me he wants to get married and have kids someday. I’ve sworn a hundred times that I’ll never get married, and I’m not too keen on children, either.

He wants to stay on that ranch, and I want to run a law firm.

We’re just not compatible.

It’s like Nero said—he and Camille have the same plans, the same goals. Internally they’re the same.

Raylan and I are different inside and out. Yes, we learned not to drive each other crazy. And we learned how to work together pretty well. And sexually speaking, we were pretty fucking compatible . . .

But you can’t build a whole relationship around sex. I’d like to . . . but I can’t.

Still, I feel utterly dull as I drive back into the heart of Chicago. It’s nighttime. A chilly wind blows bits of trash across the road. Not many people want to brave the cold, so the sidewalks are more empty than usual.

Raylan gave me his phone. I use it to call Dante.

The phone rings and rings without answer. I was going to ask him if I could swing by to drop off the SUV, but I don’t want to drive over there if he’s not actually home.

Without thinking, I head in the direction of the office instead. It’s more home than my actual home. And unlike my condo, it wasn’t burned to a crisp.

The office tower looks as grand and imposing as ever. It used to give me such a thrill walking through the double glass doors every day. Thinking that this would be a piece of the city I’d own someday.