I felt a hollow ache in my entire body, as if I was coming down with the flu. Hearing Val’s name had only intensified it. After finishing the conference call, I made to open my laptop, then closed it again. I wasn’t in the right frame of mind to work, damn it.

I kept staring at the empty apartment, driving myself crazy trying to find an explanation. I was overwhelmed by a bone-deep desperation I couldn’t shake off. Not knowing was excruciating. Eventually, I broke down and texted Val.

Carter: Got home last night and saw that all your stuff was gone. Laundry day?

I gripped the phone tightly when the words “Val is typing” appeared on the screen.

Val: Not exactly.

A white-hot pain gripped me, as if someone had stuck a burning needle in my chest, pushing it all the way to my back.

Carter: What do you mean?

Val: My things were everywhere... I’d practically moved into your apartment, and we’d never discussed that. And I’ve been poking my nose in the girls’ business a lot... I thought that maybe you didn’t like that I was so intrusive.

I stared at the words. She had thought what?

“Intrusive,” my ass.

I clenched and unclenched my hand before running my fingers through my hair. So I’d been correct in my assumption that she hadn’t just taken all her clothes for no reason. Was this just an excuse to blow me off instead of telling it to me straight?

Closing my eyes, I leaned my head back, breathing in deeply. Was there a possibility that I’d lost her already?

No, it just couldn’t be....

I forced myself to remain as logical as possible even as my entire body was constricting with panic. I’d known Val for months, and I could say with certainty that she wasn’t one to play games. If she had wanted to end things, she wouldn’t have just up and left.

Unless she thought it would be easier not to do it face-to-face.

Jesus, why was I jumping to the worst conclusions? Maybe because I’d gone through my fair share of disappointments. But so had Val, hadn’t she? I reviewed the message. Her text read as if she’d given this a lot of thought. I knew my Val well enough to piece things together, understand what was going on through her mind.

Carter: We’ll have a serious talk when you come back. I’m picking you up from LAX.

Val: You don’t have to.

Carter: It wasn’t a question.

I’d offered to do that before, but she’d insisted there was no need for me to endure the traffic. I didn’t want to be apart from her a minute longer than I had to.

I counted down the hours until her landing and arrived at the airport early.