Five hours later, I land at JFK. I have to run to a different gate and pray my flight hasn’t left yet. I text my family when I reach it.

Claire: Arrived safely in NYC, boarding soon. 

Mom: Can you tell me your gate number?

I send it to her along with a picture. Then, I buy myself a latte, and drag my carry-on and my sadness back to the gate and find out they’re already boarding.

Ugh, why didn’t I upgrade my ticket to first class?

“I found her. Thank you, Mr. Solis,” I hear Miller’s voice before I spot him.

He’s here and I’m not sure what to say. “Fucking asshole, you left me in the middle of a big crisis,” or “You’re here, what took you so long?”

“You’re a hard person to find,” he says, winking at me.

His voice sounds raspy. He looks tired, disheveled. My pulse accelerates.

I squint, making sure I’m not imagining him, then ask, “Why are you looking for me?”

My emotions are jumping all over the place. My blood runs hot and cold with rage and happiness because he’s here.

“Stay,” he pleads. “What can I do to convince you to stay? I’ll give you my company. Take it.”

“What about you?” I ask confused. Then smile and joke, “You want to be my bitch?”

“I only need you, baby. Nothing else in this world matters to me but you.”

“It’s not that easy,” I repeat. “I already let down a bunch of people by moving to Denver. If I go to London, I might be able to save a few jobs. If I stay, you’ll just run away whenever you feel like things get hard.”

“Is that what you think happened?”

“I needed you and you disappeared,” I remind him about the past week. “What could be more important than supporting me when I’m in the middle of a crisis?”

“I had a few things to take care of.” He presses his lips and asks, “Do you trust me?”

God, this man and his trust issues. “Why are you asking me that?”

His eyes find mine. They are breathtakingly sad and yet hopeful. “I need to know if you trust me, Claire.”

I do, but what’s the point of continuing this never-ending affair that can’t become anything else? “You have a life in Denver, and I—”

“You can have a life wherever you want and create new dreams; you just have to take a leap of faith.” He offers me his hand. “If what you need is a company, you can have mine. London is too far, but if you choose to start there, we’ll make it happen.”

“What will you have if you give 23 Media Inc. to me?”

“You.” He takes my hand and kisses it.

“Me?” I study him, trying to understand his end game.