“Lord Destonbury wished me to relay his regards to you and your brother. He also sends his apologies for the cancellation of your engagement and assures you that time will heal your undoubtedly bitter disappointment.”

Charlotte could hardly breathe. George was hers. She wasn’t marrying Lord Brinton. Her father was gone. It was all almost too much to bear. “Mr. Flincher, are you at liberty to tell me how all this came to pass? Have you been my father’s solicitor for very long?”

“What? Oh, no, I only met your father the day I finalized these documents and witnessed his signature. I’ve spent the entirety of my career under the exclusive employ of the Westmond family.”

And then everything suddenly made sense.

This man worked for Robert. Charlotte felt as though the world had fallen out from under her as she attempted to retain her composure. “I see. And did Mr. Westmond include a letter addressed to me? Was there any message he wished you to relay?”

“No, my lady. He said everything was settled between you the last time you and he spoke.”

Charlotte’s heart sank to the floor as she forced a smile.

“Yes, thank you, Mr. Flincher.”

I write until four in the morning. My eyes are burning, my back is bent, I’m a touch delirious, but I keep working. I run out of steam right before I reach the finish line. The last chapter. The happy ending. It’s right there, but I can’t reach it. I check my inbox and Sam has sent me five URGENT, SOS emails.

Time is running out.

Writing without Ryan hasn’t been easy. If he was here, I might have been done. My manuscript might have been sent off weeks ago and in years to come, he and I would remember how he helped me through my toughest project. How our team won. When he’s with me, my writing runs riot. When he’s gone, it all stands still.

Sitting in the early morning darkness of my dining room, I think back to Liam’s suggestion of setting myself up for success. If I wanted to do that, Ryan would have to be here. It’s impossible, of course, but there might be another way.

Maybe he can help me one more time and we can finish this book together. I know what I’m about to do is nuts, but normalcy hasn’t been hitting any home runs for me lately.

Screw it.

I get up from my chair and tiptoe back down the hallway to my bedroom. Liam is passed out in a deep, drunken sleep as he sprawls out on my bed like a starfish, and I quietly pull the door shut.