I don’t want to lose what we have, whatever it is that we’re having. I want more.

“You’re packing already?” I ask. The weekend is over, and I can’t think of any other reason to stay with her. But a part of me wants to convince her to stay with me and let me fuck her one last time.

“Yeah, check out is at eleven, remember?”

“Of course,” I say, getting out of the bed. “My plane leaves later today. I should be doing the same. I might go to the office as soon as I land.”

“You should take time off and enjoy yourself.”

“I just did.”

“No, you were worried about your family and trying to run interference between both sides. It’s exhausting.”

I shrug. “Sorry about them.”

She smiles, walks toward me, and places a hand on my cheek. “Please, don’t apologize for them. I’m just saying that you need some time to enjoy yourself. Work will be there waiting for you. Your life though, it won’t wait.”

I kiss her cheek. “I’ll see you downstairs. Thank you for this weekend.”

“Thanks for Tuscany,” she says, pulling her bags toward the door and taking a piece of my heart with her.

Brunch was quiet. Claire decided to leave without eating. She looked tired and defeated. I hated to see her go and hated the fact that I couldn’t do anything to erase the sadness on her face. My parents didn’t have much energy to ask questions. Grandma stayed in her room packing, and my sister and Kevin had already left for…was it Belize or Bermuda? I couldn’t remember where they were going on their honeymoon.

“When are you leaving?” Mom asks, rising from her seat.

“Soon,” I say dismissively, looking at my watch.

“If I don’t see you, have a nice flight. Please, bring Claire to the house soon. I really like the girl.”

“Where’s your girlfriend?” Dad asks after Mom leaves.

“Her birthday is tomorrow, and her friends are staying for the rest of the week,” I say.

Dad is a man of few words, so when he says, “I like her,” my head snaps and I look at him.

He never said a single thing about Delaney. Nothing good or bad. He just never gave me his opinion about my future wife.

“She’s nice,” I respond to his comment.

“That’s all you have to say about her?” he asks with a frown.

“What else can I say, Dad? We don’t talk like that.”

For instance: she’s a freaking goddess. and I love to worship her in bed, against the wall, in the shower, and if I could, I would find her and drag her back to our room.

“You two seem to fit well together.”

“We fight a lot too,” I say because soon I’ll have to give them the news we broke up.