Текст книги "Take Two"

Автор книги: Laurelin Paige

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Текущая страница: 13 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

“That’s ridiculous.”

“It’s how it is. You don’t know.” He gestured between the two of them. “This little life we’ve been living? This is a fantasy, Maddie. This isn’t how it is all the time. It’s not this easy. If I want to keep this career, the choices I have to make are hard and they’re painful.”

“Why do you have to choose your career every time? There has to be room for compromise without throwing away your career goals.”

“Not in this business. You have to fight every day. Even when you’re on the top.”

He was breaking up. Or he might as well have been. Every word that fell out of his mouth said he could never believe in them. That he didn’t choose her. She wiped at her damp face with her palm. “So you’re telling me that every day you choose your career? Every day you’d choose that over me?”

He didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. Because as Maddie curled up against the door and stared out the window she noticed the landscape for the first time in several minutes. The mountainside they’d been following had ended, opening to an enormous field that was empty except for a van, three men, and a huge hot air balloon with a rainbow chevron pattern.

Micah slowed the car.

A hot air balloon.

“Oh, Micah!” Emotions whirled and warred inside her as the full realization of his surprise settled in. Her movie. Freedom through flying. His questions about fear of heights. He’d done this for her. Today, he’d chosen her.

Too overcome with emotion, Maddie couldn’t speak. Micah pulled the car next to the van and turned off the engine. Eyes focused on the colorful balloon, she stepped out, chewing on the knuckle of her hand to keep from crying again.

Still silent, Micah got out and came to her side. She met his eyes and he took her hand and squeezed it. “I’m scared,” he said quietly, and she knew he didn’t mean about flying.

“I know,” she whispered.

The next half hour was a blur of emotions and sensations. The quick thrill at the balloon’s lift off, the fire hot at her back, the pull in her stomach as the basket skimmed the South Platte River, the pounding of her heart as they soared higher and higher. All of it intensified by the feel of Micah’s arms around her.

When she’d finally gotten her air legs and was no longer overwhelmed by the spectacular view, her mind drifted to the possibilities that lay between her and the man embracing her. Micah had taken a lot of risks to allow for their flight to happen. The crew that set up the balloon, the pilot…any one of them could spread news of the star’s morning adventure, even though he’d required all of them to sign a confidentiality agreement. What did it mean for them that he’d done this? Because he’d chosen her that day, did it mean he’d be willing to choose her again?

Eventually, at almost two thousand feet in the air, riding the wind, the silence was so stark that the noises in her mind struggled to be voiced. Finally, she couldn’t hold them in any longer. “Micah,” she said, not turning to look at him, hoping that the pilot truly couldn’t hear anything with his thick headphones on. “Please, tell me the truth. Are you even considering giving us a chance after this shoot is over?”

He was quiet for a beat. Then he buried his face in her hair and whispered near her ear, “More than you know. More than I ever could have believed I would.”

She took a deep breath in, memorizing the moment, so focused on his words she almost missed what he said next.

“What about you?”

She twisted her head so she could look at him, surprised by his question. Was he seriously asking? She thought her opinion on the matter was a given. How crazy that he didn’t know. “Yes,” she said simply.

Still, even though her heart burst inside with a much more emphatic acknowledgment, she knew there was more to overcome. “But I heard what you said, Micah. I get it. I’m scared too.”

She turned in his arms to face him with her entire body, letting him wrap himself so entirely around her she felt joined to him. Resting her forehead against his chin, she spoke into his neck. “If we did continue to see each other, would you ever believe that we’d have a shot at making it?” This question scared her most. Or rather, its answer did. Because if he said he didn’t, then there would be no reason to keep seeing him.

He pulled back so he could look in her eyes, and his gorgeous smile took her breath away. “Maddie, look at us.” He spun her around so she her back was to his chest again. Then he nuzzled his head against hers, his arms tight around her waist. “We’re flying, Maddie. Flying! How can we not believe we can do anything?”

She melted into him. It was the perfect thing to say. Romantic, and maybe a bit vague, but she felt the truth in her words. As long as they believed that, how could their relationship not survive?

Beyond sentiment, his statements held weight. They showed a depth to his emotion that he’d never revealed in words. He still may not have been ready to say exactly how he felt about her, but she knew now that she meant more to him than a simple fling.

She also knew for certain how she felt about him. That night she told him, as she straddled his cock, burying him inside her. She slid herself up and down and when she quickly built up the pace, he sat up and steadied her. One arm wrapped around her waist, the other tangled in her hair, he taught her a new rhythm, slow and merciless.

Eyes locked on his, she moaned her surrender to him.

“Come for me,” he urged.

And she did. Over and over her orgasm rolled through her, overtaking her so fully that he had to support her.

“Shh,” he whispered. “I’ve got you.”

With her steadied in his arms, he impaled himself into her, again and again, until she released anew. Then he joined her, as she gasped and burst around him, and she cried what she finally could say without doubt, “I love you.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Micah rolled his head, pausing at each side to crack his neck. Ah, that felt better. Not great, but better. He needed a massage and a week of sleep. He made a mental reminder to make a spa appointment for when he got back to L.A.

Ariahn Jessler, the blonde journalist from Faire Play Magazine furrowed her brows. “You seem tense,” she said, pressing the red button on her digital recorder. This was the second leg of their interview. The first session had started the minute he’d arrived on set for the day, ending only when he had to shoot his scene. Now they were filming one of the other actor’s close-ups, so Micah was on break from acting and back on the interview.

“It’s a tough week,” he answered, careful not to sound too negative about his job. “We’re going to have to work hard to stay on schedule.”

“You finish up Friday?”

“That’s the plan. We’re behind schedule so we’ll probably have some late shoots to make it up.”

Ariahn jotted a note on her paper. What could she be writing? He hadn’t really said anything. Shake it off. Best not to worry too much about what she wrote.

He put his arms on the rests of his director’s chair. “Heather starts another movie on Saturday. It doesn’t give us much wiggle room for finishing.”

“Heather Wainwright?”

“Yeah.” He casually moved his hand to his knee to stop his leg from twitching. God, he was on edge, had been since he’d woken up that morning. The end of production was only part of the reason. This interview was another. It had originally been scheduled for his day off, but he hadn’t wanted to lose his free time. It would have thrown a serious damper on his hot air balloon surprise. He couldn’t cancel altogether since Faire Play had promised a cover article. It was great exposure for him and his upcoming movie release, a sci-fi thriller. But a cover article of this length meant he’d be spending a lot of time with Ariahn. It made for an exhausting work day, playing his character for the film one second and then having to present a different character—his public self—during his off-camera time.

“What do you have lined up next?”

Surely she already knew. Six weeks ago he would have said that, would have flirted his way through the interview. But now, with Maddie nearby, it seemed wrong. Instead, he remained matter-of-fact and forthcoming with his answers. “Let’s see, I’m presenting at the America’s Choice Awards in a couple of weeks. Then I’ll be promoting Night in Space. I start my next project in the late fall.”

“And what is that?”

Micah had to work not to cringe. “It’s called Love Lessons. I play a teacher who falls in love with his student.” He couldn’t believe he’d agreed to do a romantic comedy. He really hoped the Santini thing went through. If not he’d push to get in with an actor’s director like Soder or Braugh or Van Gordon.

Or Bauers. He’d love to be directed by Maddie, and not just in the bedroom.

Maddie. There was another cause of his tension. So many complicated thoughts and feelings arose with her around. Their day off together had been the best of the last six weeks, but they’d said things to each other, things they couldn’t take back—some things he didn’t want to take back.

He couldn’t quite explain why he’d provoked her on the drive. He’d repeated the main points of an argument he’d made for years—why he couldn’t have a girlfriend and his career—even though he wasn’t sure how convinced he was anymore. But he stood firm and pushed her, almost hoping it would scare her away so that he wouldn’t have to deal with the repercussions of madly adoring the woman.

Except it hadn’t worked. And damn, he was grateful for that. So grateful that though he couldn’t tell her how he felt, he’d hinted at a future that he still didn’t know if he could deliver.

He wanted to deliver, that wasn’t the problem. The more time he spent with her, the more he realized how much he loved being with her. She was smart and fun. She inspired him creatively.

The sex was incredible.

All right, sex in general was incredible—women were usually intent on gratifying him, willing to do anything to get their one night with Micah Preston. But he’d forgotten what it felt like to be on the other side, wanting to satisfy someone else with such an ache that his own pleasure became irrelevant. How long had it been since he’d gotten to know a woman’s body so intimately that he could play her like an accomplished musician, knowing exactly where to stroke and caress to make her sing?

And then she learned him too, and he didn’t have to tell her what to do. She pleased him out of genuine desire to share and connect, not because he was a Hollywood star.

It was the emotional component that boggled him. It frightened and thrilled him to feel whatever it was he felt for Maddie. He cared for her, appreciated her, adored her. She changed him. Made him believe things about himself, about the possibilities of a future that he hadn’t believed in before.

He’d almost said he loved her. And then she did say it. In bed—did that count? With Maddie, he was pretty sure it did.

Though he hadn’t told Maddie yet, he knew that the end of the production wouldn’t be the end of them. It couldn’t be. He had to be with her beyond Colorado. He’d talk about it with her soon. That night, maybe. It was such a major move for him, he had to prepare for it. And he still had five days to work it out. He didn’t need to worry about it right this second. Especially not with a reporter sitting in front of him, watching his every move.

Had she asked him something? “I’m sorry. I’m not usually so distracted. I had a late night.” A late night of lovemaking. He shifted, recalling it, giving himself more room in his pants.

“Oh, a late night?” Ariahn abandoned whatever question she’d just asked and redirected. “That’s right, we were originally scheduled to meet yesterday, but my assistant said you had something come up. Sightseeing, wasn’t it?”

Micah stiffened. He hadn’t mentioned his adventure with Maddie to anyone. He answered cautiously. “Yeah, I did some sightseeing. Figured it was my last chance since the shoot’s almost over.”

“A hot air balloon is certainly the way to see Colorado.”

Shit. Thank God he was wearing sunglasses—hopefully they hid his panic. Who let it leak? It had to be a member of the balloon’s crew. How much had the source said? Had they mentioned Maddie? How could they not mention Maddie? What should he say now?

He took a swallow of his coffee and looked over at the set nearby, hoping it was time for filming to resume. Bruce was still adjusting lights, though. Damn, he wasn’t getting out of this interview yet.

He moved his attention back to Ariahn who was peering at him intently. He cocked his head, deciding to play dumb. “Oh, are you waiting for me to answer? I didn’t realize it was a question.”

“I guess it wasn’t.” Ariahn picked up her bag and rifled through it. “Here’s a question though.” She pulled out several sheets of paper and laid them on the table between them. “Who’s this attractive young woman that Hollywood’s most eligible bachelor has been hanging out with recently?”

Micah felt the blood drain from his face as he examined the papers in front of him. They were low-quality photos, obviously printed off the internet, four of them in total. Three pictures were of him and Maddie getting into the basket of the hot air balloon. One of the crew must have taken them with his phone. How had he not noticed? The fourth was from the Breckenridge Film Festival. That one didn’t surprise him. In fact, none of it surprised him. He knew the press would find out about her eventually. They always did.

Fuck.

He wasn’t ready for this.

Several possible responses whirled through his mind, each with a different set of consequences. A big part of him said he should just claim her as his. Tell Ariahn that Maddie was his girlfriend and deal with the aftermath later.

But he hadn’t talked to Maddie about it and that wouldn’t be fair to her. He needed to have this conversation with her first. Tell her how he felt. Work out with her how they would move forward.

Besides, there would be an inevitable media circus. Once it was out that they were a couple, every decision they made would be under the microscopic eye of his fans and the paparazzi. It would add an incredible amount of strain to their relationship. Maddie’s private life would be destroyed. They’d pounce on her, follow her wherever she went, dig up all of her past, lie about her. Hurt her.

They’d find out about her history with Joss Beaumont. That could harm her chances at a directing career. Hell, it could harm his own career.

Did she even realize that’s what dating him meant? Why hadn’t he talked to her about the press? Prepared her? He was such an idiot, trying to keep their romance in a bubble.

And when her movie came out—and it would eventually, he’d see to it—her brilliance would be overlooked because she was Micah Preston’s girlfriend. People would say that was the only reason she’d gotten her movie picked up before they even saw it.

At that moment, he hated the press more than he ever had. Because they forced him to keep Maddie a secret, whether he wanted to or not.

He processed all of this in a matter of seconds. “Ah, Maddie Bauers. Yeah, she’s on the crew of this show.” He removed his sunglasses and met the reporter’s eyes, hoping to come across sincere. “She’s also a writer/director and we’ve been talking about working on a project together.”

Ariahn looked skeptical. “In a hot air balloon?”

“Only place I’m not followed by paparazzi.” Yeah, it was vague, but it was also charming.

“Yes, the paparazzi.” Ariahn smirked. “Oh, I forgot—I have one more.” She uncovered another sheet of paper she had tucked under the others. This one was taken in the lobby of the Buell. He and Maddie were lip-locked in one of the most heart-searing kisses of his lifetime. The usher. It had to be.

Goddammit. Why did everyone have to have camera phones nowadays?

Though he liked the look of them together like that.

This one was the hardest to deny. This one almost made him ignore all the reasonable arguments and claim Maddie as his right then and there.

Almost.

“This looks like more than a meeting about a project,” Ariahn prodded.

He swallowed his surprise, his frustration, his desire to come clean about the woman he adored and improvised. “All right, Ariahn, you caught me. I made a pass. Hot girl at a hot party? I’ve been known to do that.”

Ariahn raised an eyebrow. “Let me put it this way: Micah, are you off the market?”

“Come on, am I ever off the market?” He added a wink. Time to bring out flirtatious Micah.

It worked. She smiled coyly in return. “So you’re still Hollywood’s most eligible bachelor?”

“Definitely.” He leaned back in his seat, putting on a relaxed air contrary to the uneasiness he felt at dismissing his relationship with Maddie. “Without a doubt. Free and single as ever. In fact, I’d ask you if you were busy later, but I see you’re wearing an engagement ring.”

“Hey, you got that hard drive for Beaumont?” Joe’s voice drew Micah to peer behind him to see who he was addressing.

His heart stopped.

Maddie.

She was standing right behind him, clearly in earshot, hard drive in hand as Joe approached her from the set. Micah didn’t have to wonder if she had overheard his interview. Her face said that she had heard every word.

And that every word hurt.

Fuck.

But this shouldn’t matter, he told himself. They’d agreed no media. A shift had occurred between them, he couldn’t deny that, but they hadn’t said they were ready for this. He would remind her of that. He’d tell her how he felt about her and that would make up for this. It had to.

Except the pain in her eyes said that nothing could make up for this.

Maddie didn’t speak, but she turned and waved the hard drive at Joe.

“Cool,” Joe said. “I’ll tell him you’re on your way.”

Micah almost rose to follow as she left briskly toward video village. He almost called after her.

But he couldn’t. Not without negating everything he’d just told Ariahn Jessler. Not without inviting chaos into their relationship.

No, he had to sit and watch her walk away, hoping he wasn’t watching her walk out of his life forever.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Maddie’s eyes welled, an infuriating inconvenience since she was only steps away from video village. Dammit. She couldn’t let Beaumont see her cry. She blinked, clearing her tears.

She hadn’t meant to eavesdrop on Micah and his interview, hadn’t even really been interested in it. Beaumont had summoned her to bring him the footage from that morning—a job that should have been relegated to a P.A. or one of Adam’s other assistants. So she shouldn’t have even been walking past Micah in the first place. And then she’d heard her name. How could she not be intrigued?

“So you’re still Hollywood’s most eligible bachelor?”

“Definitely.”

The words stung more than she could have imagined. And then he’d flirted with the journalist…

Dammit all to hell. She was definitely hurt, but more than that she was embarrassed. What had she expected? Did she think that he’d proclaim his love for her in some entertainment magazine when he hadn’t even said the words to her? Stupid, stupid, stupid.

And okay, she shouldn’t care what he said to the press. She knew it was all fake.

The problem was she did care. Fake or not, she couldn’t stand it. Maybe if he’d given her some indication of what he really felt for her she could deal with whatever lies he told others. But since he hadn’t, the words he’d told the reporter were the only ones he had to cling to.

“There’s Maddie,” Sam said as she reached video village. Beaumont had been antsy waiting, she could tell.

“Here I am.” She was surprised at how controlled her voice sounded. Inside she was reeling. Shake it off. “If you scoot over, I’ll load it.”

An assistant sitting in front of the main monitor relinquished his seat. Maddie slid into the chair and connected the hard drive into the USB slot of the computer. Micah’s words rang in her ears as she pulled up the contents of the drive. “Without a doubt. Free and single as ever.”

She shook her head and redirected her focus to her job. She dragged the folder to the computer’s desktop and a warning box came up. The file already exists do you want to replace the existing file? Maddie paused. There shouldn’t be a file with the same name. She squinted at the file’s title. It should have said which scene they had filmed that morning, but it didn’t. The file name still said the date and scene from the previous shoot. The second assistant must have forgotten to change it.

What scene had they shot that morning? She closed her eyes, trying to clear her head. “Free and single as ever.”

“Get outta the way.” Beaumont pushed her out of her chair. “You’re taking too long.”

Numbly, Maddie stepped aside. She watched as Beaumont grabbed for the mouse in front of him. “Wait,” she said. Scene fourteen. That was the scene they’d filmed. Beaumont needed to change the name to say Scene Fourteen. “You need to save as—”

But Beaumont had already clicked.

Panic coursed through her veins. “What did you just do?”

“I saved the file.”

“But it had the wrong name! You just saved it over the last footage!” Hoping she was mistaken, she leaned over the director and grabbed the mouse from his hands. She clicked open the file on the desktop with the previous scene’s date and watched in horror as that morning’s footage played. “No, no, no.” She scrolled through more of the files. All of the footage from the last shoot was lost. “It’s gone. Scene twenty-four is all gone.”

Beaumont furrowed his brow. “What do you mean it’s gone?”

Maddie’s words came soft and measured. “You just clicked ‘yes’ to replace the file and it had the same name as the other day’s shoot.” A lost scene was a disaster. They would have to hold actors over, adjust the shoot schedule. And they were already behind schedule.

“Fuck!” The director stood abruptly, knocking his chair over in the process. “Is this some kind of sick joke?”

“No. I wouldn’t do that.”

Beaumont’s face reddened. He swept his arm across the table in front of him, throwing a stack of papers and clipboards to the ground. “Fuck.” He turned to Maddie. “How the fuck could you make that kind of a mistake?”

Maddie usually kept her cool, no matter what her boss threw at her, but she’d reached the end of her emotional rope. “I was the one who was fixing it when you pushed me out of my chair. If you hadn’t been so goddamned anxious and just let me do my job—”

Beaumont screamed so loud that Maddie wouldn’t have been surprised if they could hear him on set. “It shouldn’t have had the same name in the first place. You are incompetent, unprofessional, and completely out of your league. I should never have agreed to let Adam bring you on.”

“No, I should never have agreed to come on.” Out of the corner of her eye, Maddie saw Sam take a step toward her, trying to stop her. She ignored him. “You’ve been an arrogant bastard since you fucked me over years ago. My coming here saved your ass.”

Beaumont laughed. “Add cocky to the list. Assistants like you are a dime a dozen. Do you even realize how much your mistake is going to cost?”

“I don’t know how much your mistake is going to cost. And frankly, I don’t give a shit. You deserve it.”

His eyes narrowed. “Get your things, Bauer. You’re fired.”

Maddie took her tape measure off her belt loop and threw it at Beaumont’s feet. “Fuck that. I quit.”

She’d never been so angry in her life. Accused of making his mistake? She didn’t have to take that shit. She stormed off, high-tailing it to the trailer where the crew kept their personal items.

“Maddie,” Sam called after her.

Sam was the last person she wanted to deal with. Well, maybe not the last person. She didn’t want to deal with anyone.

He called again, running to catch up. “Maddie!”

She spun around. “What?”

He put his hands on his hips, panting. “Do you need a ride?”

Sam’s voice was kind and gentle, and it broke her. Tears welled up again in her eyes, this time she couldn’t stop them from falling. “Yes,” she mumbled. She nodded to make sure he understood.

“Go get in the car. It’s unlocked. I’ll get your things.”

She climbed in the front seat of his car and slumped down. Fired. She had been fired. She’d never been fired from anything in her life. She was an exemplary employee, devoted to her job. Now she’d been fucked over by Joss Beaumont twice in one lifetime. Christ, she’d be lucky if she worked anywhere in film again.

She wiped at the tears falling down her face. There would be some serious crying later when she was alone. She knew that. She just had to hold on until then.

Her phone buzzed alerting her of a text. Micah from the party. She stared at her phone, not sure if she wanted to read it at the moment. Sam’s arrival helped her make the decision. She pocketed her phone and took her purse and computer bag from him. Then she curled up next to the window. Please don’t make me talk, she willed silently. Please, please, please.

“Don’t worry, you only have to talk about it if you want to,” Sam said as if reading her mind.

As they drove in silence, Maddie replayed the scene with Beaumont over and over in her mind. She didn’t want to think about it, but as soon as she stopped, thoughts of Hollywood’s most eligible bachelor crept in its place. Those thoughts were too much to bear.

When they’d nearly reached her hotel, she found she could no longer stay trapped in her mind. She peered over at Sam. He really was a nice kid—not a douchebag at all. “Won’t you get in trouble for leaving the set?”

Sam stole a glance at her before answering. “I called Joe’s cell phone. He agreed I should drive you.”

“You called Joe?”

“Yeah. I told him what happened. I’m sure Beaumont’s version of the story will be different than yours and I wanted him to know the truth.”

How thoughtful. And irrelevant. “Beaumont’s version of the story is the only one that matters.”

“On this film, maybe. But Joe and Adam—they’ll make sure you get hired again.”

She nodded. Sam had never experienced the joy of being blacklisted by Beaumont. “I don’t even know if I want to be hired again.”

“You might feel differently later. I mean, Beaumont’s a dick. And you’re good. You don’t want to give that up.”

Maddie stared at Sam. He was sweet. Would Micah say the same thing to her? Would he comfort and reassure her?

Yes and no. He’d tell her to get the hell out. Tell her to take this as a sign to move on, to direct her own stuff. And he wouldn’t say it because he was reckless and irresponsible. He’d say it because he knew that was what she really wanted to do.

Sam pulled into the front circle of the Comfort Inn and let the car idle. She looked out the window, suddenly realizing he didn’t know she wasn’t at this hotel anymore. What should she do? She couldn’t walk to the other hotel. She was exhausted—emotionally and physically. She could call a cab after Sam drove away. What a pain.

Fuck it. “Sam, I’m not staying at this hotel.”

He nodded and put the car in drive. “I know.”

Shocked, she soaked in his response while he pulled out on the road toward Micah’s hotel. He knew. “Does everyone, uh, know?” Just what she needed, for her love life to be the talk of the production crew.

“I don’t think so. No one’s said anything.”

“That’s good, I guess. Especially considering how incredibly fucked up that situation is right now.”

“I bet it’s not as fucked up as you think.”

She studied him again. There were so many thoughts and emotions running through her that she found it difficult to make her brain work. “Why didn’t you say something?”

The lips of his mouth curved slightly. “I didn’t think you wanted me to.”

She looked out her passenger window, knowing she’d break again if she met Sam’s eyes. She’d dismissed him so easily, put her sights on the unattainable Micah Preston. What the fuck had she been thinking? Micah was right—she was emotionally unavailable.

They pulled into the circle at Micah’s hotel and Sam again let the car idle. “I could come in, if you want me to.”

She pictured inviting Sam into the hotel room she shared with Micah. “That might be weird.”

“I suppose it would be.”

“Thanks, though. For everything.” She got out of the car, threw the strap of her bag over her shoulder and waved goodbye.

Inside the room, the tears Maddie had expected to fall generously didn’t come right away. She’d been fired. And she felt like shit about it. But Beaumont had fucked her before. She had survived then, she’d survive now.

But Micah…Micah… Just the thought of his name shot like a bullet through her heart. She was such a fool. She couldn’t even be mad. All along he’d said it didn’t want a relationship. How had she convinced herself that he had told her anything different?

She pulled out her phone to read the text he had sent her.

She was just a journalist. What I say to her doesn’t matter.

She stared at the screen. He probably hadn’t realized she’d been fired yet, but she’d hoped for more in his response. She’d wanted him to say…what? What exactly did she expect?

I’m sorry. I love you. That’s what she wanted.

Micah had been right about her here too—she was a hopeless romantic. She wanted a guy who loved her, who gave up everything for her, who wasn’t afraid of telling reporters how he felt, who didn’t care that choosing her might jeopardize his career.

She’d told him she loved him. And he’d told the world he was single.

Such an incredible fool.

She turned her phone off and tossed it on the nightstand. Then she wrapped her arms around herself as the tears began to flow, fast and steady. Even in the generic space of the typical hotel decor, she felt Micah’s presence. She wished he were there to hold her and comfort her.

But he couldn’t fix her when he was most of the reason she felt so forlorn. She grabbed a T-shirt of his from his laundry pile, threw herself onto the bed and curled up in a ball, clutching his clothing to her. It smelled like him. She stayed like that, sobbing, for more than an hour.

When she’d run out of tears, she shook herself out of her stupor, and turned her phone back on. She scrolled through two more texts from Micah. The first said, Are we okay? The second read, Where are you???