“It’ll be fun. I won’t even mention it’s me since we both know she can’t tell the difference.” He chuckles at his own joke. “Let me take care of this just like you’ve taken care of everything all week. You did good, Dem. Mom would be proud.”

He pulls me into a hug before I have a chance to respond. “Go find her,” he whispers before shoving me away and messing up my hair.

By the time I check my phone, her reply is waiting for me.

Maddie: Yes, I’m in the parking lot. I’m sorry I didn’t say hi earlier. I just didn’t want to overstep.

Overstep my ass.

Dempsey: Stay there. I’ll be right out.

I glance around and find an emergency exit, then pray it’s not attached to an alarm. I push through the door and am greeted by the sweet sound of silence. Even better: the side door dumps right into the parking lot.

I spot her immediately, leaning against the side of her Lexus and scowling down at her phone.

A few people call out to me, but I’m taking Fielding’s advice to heart. I’m done. Off the clock. Out of platitudes and bored with niceties.

I just need to get to her.

She must feel me before she sees me, because she lifts her head and studies me as I stride across the parking lot.

When I reach her, we don’t speak. Neither of us makes a sound. I just pull her away from the car, wrap her in my arms, and hold her like she’s as vital as the oxygen in my lungs.

She returns my embrace, and for the first time in ten days, I feel at ease. The longer we hug, the more I unwind. Her arms around me feel like the sustenance I’ve been craving since the second I dropped her off at home after our trip.

“Fuck, I missed you, princess. These last ten days… they’ve been torture, Maddie. The hardest part of all of this was being away from you,” I murmur into her hair before pulling back to look her in the eyes.

Every part of me feels calm and whole as I take her in.

“God, you’re pretty. I missed you so much.” I tuck a loose curl behind her ear and cup her face in both my hands. “Come home with me tonight?”

She gives me a pained smile, her expression a mix of pity and confliction. “Dem, I don’t know if that’s such a good idea…”

“Well, I do. I’ve spent the last ten days missing you. I’m not going another night without you in my bed.”

“I’m leaving next Sunday,” she reminds me.

As if I could possibly forget.

“We still have over a week,” I counter.