Hearing his voice intensified my emotion, and I felt like I might have some sort of breakdown. I sat on the floor of the shower crying for nearly an hour, the water pouring over me, mixing with my tears and carrying them to the drain.

I was two people, and it was tearing me apart. Part of me wanted to run to Nicholas for comfort. To be held and loved and protected by him. The other half wanted to deny ever knowing him and everything that had happened since the contract. Mostly, I just wanted to crawl back into the dark, safe cave of my previous world.

As I packed my bag, someone knocked on my door. My heart froze. I didn’t want to see him, but I couldn’t stop myself either.

I opened the door, but it was only a woman from housekeeping wanting to clean my room. I told her I’d be leaving shortly. A few minutes before twelve I dragged my bag out of the room. I stole a glance at Nicholas’s door as if hiding the action from myself. I hoped he would be watching for me, but he wasn’t.

The elevator door opened into the lobby, and I walked out to the street. A black town car was waiting at the curb with a sign that read DUTTON. The bellman put my bag in the trunk, and I cried as the car pulled away from the hotel.

“Are you okay, ma’am?” the driver asked.

I shook my head. “No.”

He didn’t say anything more.

My flight landed in Salt Lake a few minutes before five. I retrieved my bag, then took a cab back to my apartment. As I undressed I realized that I was still wearing the gold necklace Nicholas had given me. I poured myself a glass of wine and drank it. Then another. Then another. It had been a long time since I’d drunk to get drunk, but that’s exactly what I was doing. Then I lay down on my bed and cried myself to sleep.

The next day was Saturday. I lay in bed until almost one in the afternoon. I was hungover and my head ached, but that was nothing compared to the pain I felt in losing Nicholas. I didn’t have the energy or desire to get out of bed. Most of all I didn’t have any reason to. I wondered if Nicholas had made it back to Salt Lake. I craved him. I missed him as much as I feared him. I hoped he would call, but he never did. I kept my phone nearby just in case it rang. It never did.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

CHAPTER

Twenty-eight

There is not only more to each soul’s journey than we imagine, usually there is more than we can imagine.

Elise Dutton’s Diary