Page 110 of Anton

Instead, his fingers slip away.

“You need to go,” he says, the words rough. “Before I can’t let you.”

Blinking through the tears, I get to my feet and smooth my shaky fingers over my clothes.

“I’ll have one of my men drive you back to your car.”

“No.”

His brows pull together. “Thora.”

“I can call a ride.”

“You’re not taking a fucking Uber from here.”

A bitter laugh escapes me. “You don’t get to push me away and then decide how I leave.”

His jaw clenches, but he doesn’t argue.

“Bye, Anton.”

His features harden, but he makes no attempt to stop me as I cross the threshold.

I give him one last aching look before walking away, knowing this time it’s truly over.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

THORA

My heart is heavy as the private jet lands on the airstrip two days later, the wheels hitting with enough force to knock me forward, while some part of me stays back in New Jersey with Anton.

Every time I play back the last day I saw him—the wounded look in his eyes, the pain of walking out the door—it hurts.

Why the hell did I have to meet his cute dog? If I’d never seen Volchok, none of this would be happening.

I should’ve listened to Blair. She’s usually right.

My eyes close as the plane slows. This is good for me. Being home with my family, being far away from him.

At least that’s what I keep telling myself.

Beside me, Greer unbuckles her seat belt and stands to grab her bags from the overhead bin. But I’m still sitting here, strapped in and staring out the small window, wondering if I’ll ever see him again.

“You okay?” she asks, and I force myself to snap out of it.

“Yeah.” I fit a pretty smile and get to my feet just as she grabs my stuff and hands it to me. “Just thinking about Daddy trying to hook me up with Zachary at the gala and figuring out how the hell to avoid it.”

“Shit, that’s right. I forgot about that. Man, I really don’t want to be you right now.”

“Wow, thanks.” I laugh as we advance through the aisle and down the steps to the limo waiting for us, the warm Texas air wrapping around me the second my feet hit the ground.

The ride is quiet as I stare out the window, then check my phone like a desperate idiot, wondering if he’ll text me. But why would he?

Before I can shut off the screen, a text from Blair comes through.

Blair

Have fun in Texas! And get some D. Preferably from a cute cowboy so you can tell me all about it.