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My mouth opens, and all that comes out is a cry.

I hear him groan on the other end of the line, pure agony ripping from his chest. "Please…please, Luna, don't cry. Please don't fucking cry." His voice is pained, ripping from his throat.

"I want to come home," I cry, not able to answer any of his questions. Because I'm not okay, not in the slightest. So much has happened. So fucking much in my life has changed.

"Home?"

"Yes. Please. I just want to come home." This time it's a sob that rips through my throat, and I can literally feel his pain coming through the phone. He hates my pain, just as much as I hate his.

We're connected. We always have been.

"I'm in New York,” he says.

I blink, shocked. I guess I didn't even think of where he might be living again, and then suddenly, thoughts of his girlfriend come back to my mind. Of him possibly sliding a ring on another girl’s finger. His voice rushes out, "I can get you a ticket home, to Wisconsin, if you want. Or I can get you a ticket to me. Whatever you want. I'll do it."

"You. I want you," is all I can say. I don't think about the girlfriend, or the fact that I might be walking into him with a baby on his hip. I need to see him, more than I need air. I need him more than anything else in this world.

I hear him move around. "Stay on the phone. I'll get you a ticket right now." I listen as his fingers fly across a keyboard, his mouse clicking. We don't speak, and I don't need to. My heart settles in my chest, maybe for the first time since I last saw him. It's like it knows everything will be okay. That this, now, is right.

“Where are you?” he asks.

My mouth opens, pain seeping from my lips with my words. “I’m in Hawaii. Maui.” He says nothing and I know he can hear the agony in my words. He doesn’t know what has happened to me, and he doesn’t need to know the story to know I’ve been through hell.

"Okay. Can you get to the airport now? I can get you a plane out at about five a.m. there." I check the clock on the computer, seeing it’s only two a.m.

"Yeah, I think so."

"Okay." More clicking, and then he lets out a deep breath. "Okay, you're good to go. I'll meet you at the airport."

My heart races at that, and I press my palm to my chest. "Okay," I whisper.

We say nothing, breathing through the phone.

So much to say.

So, so much to say to each other.

"I'll see you soon," is all he says instead.

"I'll see you soon." I'm about to hang up the phone when I hear him call out my name.

"Luna?"

"Yeah?" I clutch the phone to my hand, nerves, excitement, worry, everything swirling in my stomach at once. A riptide in the pit of my belly.

"I missed you," he says softly.

My face scrunches up, tears flooding my eyes instantly. They fall down my cheeks, dripping onto the blanket around me. "I missed you, too." I choke out.

I hang up, grabbing the Post-it Note and standing up, leaving the blanket on the chair. After shutting down the computer, I head to my cabin, ready to pack up and get out of there.

It's time to go home.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

ROMAN

People rush by me, the world spinning. Scents and sounds and colors fly by, but it's all a blur. It feels like I'm underwater or wearing headphones. The only thing I can focus on is my heaving breaths. I can feel my heart pounding against my chest, my black shirt twitching with each beat.

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