I didn’t want him to think I loved him so much more than he’d loved me.
When I got off the plane, I hit send.
Dear Brent,
I had hoped we’d see each other this weekend. I’d hoped for it a lot of weekends. But I understand your job is the priority.
Perhaps that’s how it should be.
I think we should end things. The last seven months have proven that this just isn’t working.
It’s too hard.
Shannon
Then I headed to baggage claim, where I fell into my brother’s arms, a fresh round of tears cascading down my cheeks. He patted my hair, drew me into an embrace, and whispered, “It’s okay. Tell me what happened.”
I sobbed, hurt clogging my throat as I choked out, “He’s with someone else. And I’m pregnant.”
Michael’s eyes widened, and he gritted his teeth. Then his jaw clenched. “The bastard.”
But a little later, in the quiet of Michael’s condo, a pang of regret crashed into me. Had I acted too soon? Cut it off too hastily?
I considered calling him. Telling him what I’d seen. Asking him for his explanation.
He wasn’t the type to cheat. He was devoted. I’d never doubted how he felt—that was what was so hurtful about tonight.
What if there truly was an explanation?
I should give him the chance to talk it out. To find out what had actually happened.
I shouldn’t act rashly.
I needed to hear it from him. To know what was going on. I needed it for me, and for the baby.
I set a hand on my stomach.
Closed my eyes.
Gazed heavenward.
Asked for strength.
My throat hitched, clogged with emotions I didn’t want to feel.
I took a deep breath, picked up the phone, and dialed his number, but it went straight to voicemail. I tried a few more times. Same thing. That feeling in the pit of my stomach remained.
No matter. There was always the morning.
But in the morning, I wasn’t able to get to the phone for a long time, as waves of sickness crashed through my body.
And when I checked it again, there was one missed call, but his reply had come in the form of an email.
It said everything. Well, it said a lot of things. But the last line made everything clear.
What do you say to trying again next year?
He wanted to have her, and then he wanted to have me again.
My jaw ticked. My head roared. And I wanted to scream Liar.
I was already so far gone.
I deleted the note and his contact information, then I blocked his number.
His Second Prologue
At the bar, Holly reeked of tequila.
Too many shots.
And too much information.
She’d shared every single detail of her ex, what a cad he was, why they’d split.
Every detail chased by a shot, even as I tried—hell, we all tried, the group of us—to get her to slow down.
But there was no stopping the train tonight.
When she stumbled away from the booth, saying she was leaving to go see him, I couldn’t let her take off like that.
“Let’s get you home,” I said calmly.
“I don’t want to go home,” she said with a dopey grin. “I want to see Chad. See him and make him realize what he missed out on.”
I shook my head. I didn’t have sisters. But if I did, there was no way I’d let them chase after a guy like that. And definitely not in this state. “Let me take you home,” I said again.
She smiled up at me. “Ohh, even better.” She grabbed my arm, and I led her out of the bar, ignoring her hands, even when she slid them around my waist.
I didn’t push her away, because she could barely walk straight. I tried desperately not to think of where I should have been—with my woman.
But maybe I was supposed to be here, helping Holly from making decisions she’d surely regret.
“You’re so sweet to lend a hand,” she said, her lips curving into a grateful grin. She raised a hand and cupped my cheek.
I could have swatted it away, but what was the point?
She was drunk, and she needed to go home. She didn’t need to see an ex-douchebag.
I guided her to my bike, handed her a helmet, and helped her put it on.
“Ooh, this is all snuggly and fun,” she said.
I shook my head, frustrated, annoyed, but needing to make sure she was okay. “Hold on tight, okay?”
“As you wish,” she said, hopping on behind me. She clutched my waist, rested her head against my shoulder, and sighed happily as I drove her home.
I made sure she was inside her place safely, then I told her I’d see her at work.
“You want to come in?” she asked with an eyebrow wiggle.
There was only one answer to that question. “No. I’m involved with someone.”
“But she’s so far away,” she said, her eyes twinkling.
“That’s the problem,” I said with a heavy sigh.
That was the big fucking problem.
I left and returned home, wanting to talk to Shannon, but what would I say anyway?
Sorry?
Maybe another weekend?
Maybe next month?
Maybe next year?
Because hell, I didn’t know when I could get away.
And I didn’t know how to put into words anything that would make us better.
I was at the end of my rope.
Hoping for clarity in the morning, I turned off my phone, crashing hard.
When I woke, I found an email from Shannon that she’d sent late last night.
I blinked, rubbed my eyes, sat up straight.
What the hell was this?
A breakup email?
And one that cut me to the core as I read it again and again, because she was so fucking right. I hated to admit it, but she was so damn right. My job had become my priority.
But I didn’t know how to prioritize her anymore. I couldn’t. Not with her there and me here.
I looked at the time. Her dance company would be in the middle of a performance in London.
I shouldn’t call her, but I did it anyway. It rang and rang.
I paced, willing her to pick up.
But I understood why she didn’t. She was busy with work too. We didn’t even have the same days off. We didn’t have time for each other. We were plants without sunlight.
And the more I thought about it, the more I wondered if maybe I should let her go.
Not forever, but for now.
I didn’t want to lose her, but I didn’t know how to keep her.
I didn’t know how we could do anything but fall apart.
Because she was right.
This wasn’t working.
Time was not on our side.
She’d been just as unhappy with our lack of contact these last seven months as I had.
Long-distance relationships weren’t simply hard.
They were hell.
I wrote back with the full truth.
Dear Shan,
You know I love you. I love you madly and so damn much. I don’t want to lose you. But this time apart and the distance is killing me. And maybe killing us too.