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Now, I regretted not taking the time to be frank with him. To tell him how much pain it had caused me, knowing he had tried to take his own life because of something I did.
It made my stomach churn.
How could he have done something like that to me?
“Hey,” Pierre said, nudging my arm as we stepped out of the elevator. “You okay?”
I nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.” We exited the building, and before leaving his side, we turned to each other. I gave him a warm smile, taking his hands in my own. “Promise you’ll come, okay?”
“I promise,” he replied, his eyes moving around my face, as if he were documenting each and every curve, every shadow, to keep with him for when I left. “Call me when you get back, okay?”
“Of course.”
We leaned toward one another. Even though I wanted to hold him tight, stroke his hair and let my tongue linger with his, we made the kiss short and sweet. Pierre pulled back first, and gave me a shove toward the car.
“See you in a few days,” he said, giving me a small wave. “Safe travels.”
“Thanks,” I said, turning away to step into the car. The taxi driver got out to hoist my suitcase into the trunk as I settled into the leather seat.
Even as the car pulled away, I could see Pierre still standing there in the side mirror, could feel his gaze on mine. And I knew we’d find a way. We had to.
We were in this together.
All five of us, whether we liked it or not.
