Page 197 of The Professor's Wife

“It’s why I like to drive and turn the world off. It feels like I’m breaking away from the system.”

“You are.” She ran her slender fingers through my hair, studying me. “How long were your swings at work?”

“Two weeks on, one week off.”

“That’s tough.”

I shrugged. “For a freshly single guy, it didn’t feel like much for a while.”

“Do you ever complain?”

I let out a dry laugh. “I have nothing to complain about. Except for the fact I’m scared shitless at the thought that I might have missed out on you.” I actually shuddered, looking pained. “I’m not the kind of guy who believes in fate, Daze, but something kept me there that night. Thank fuck it did.”

She smiled, and my chest burned hotter as heat reached her eyes when she looked at me. “You would have been fine, Tristan, without me.”

“Sure,” I said. “I’d have been fine, but knowing what I know now, if I went back to that time and lost you…I think it’s fucking tragic.”

She shook her head, saying nothing.

“What?” I prodded. “You don’t agree?”

“I think you’ve built me up in your head.”

“We went through this already. I didn’t.”

“You did.”

I shook my head with conviction. “Nah, you’re the one. I know it. I fucking feel it. You’re it for me, Daze. I knew it the second I laid eyes on you. You’re my soulmate.”

Her voice was hoarse now. “If you believe in fate, you think if you missed out on me, you might have found me another way?”

I thought about that for a moment. My face went tight, and the thought physically hurt me. “I think we’re too alike not to cross paths with each other.”

“You think we’re the same?”

“We’re wanderers.”

“What if I wasn’t wandering?”

What if she was still trapped? The thought made me uneasy.

“Nah, the world would have worked to put us back on track,” I said, adamantly. “We would have found each other. In this life or the next, you’re mine.”

And I fucking meant it.

I knew it at my fucking core.

That damn woman’s words from when I was a child suddenly flashed through me.

“You’ve done this before…this journey…but the destination… it’s never certain.”

I shook off the chill that raced down my spine.

Whatever that woman had meant all those years ago, I knew one thing now: if there was another road after this one, I would look for Daisy on it.

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

“Where are you taking me?” I asked, breath already thin from the climb. My calves burned, my palms stung from grabbing at roots and rocks, and Tristan—damn him—just kept going, glancing back with that infuriating half smile that said trust me without using the words.