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It’s time to wake up and face reality.
I dry my face with a towel and return to the bedroom.
My eyes fall on Brogan.
He’s sleeping on his side, his broad shoulders and muscular arms pale as moonlight.
I take a second to memorize his face.
The red beard.
Strong jawline.
Straight nose.
Thick red hair.
I won’t allow myself to miss him.
It’s over.
It—these feelings… they should have never begun.
I cross around to the other side of the room and grab a new pair of panties and a bra from the suitcase. It’s funny. I’d stupidly started to unpack recently. As if my short stay warranted space in Brogan’s closet. Half of his drawers. Half of the vanity dresser.
Stupid.
Looking at how deeply I’d integrated my life with his now, I can see exactly where it all went wrong.
It was right there.
When I put that first lotion bottle down.
If I’d been stricter with myself and my boundaries, this would never have happened.
Reaching out, I quietly pick up the bottle of lotion and then set it back down. I don’t want to tip Brogan off that I’m leaving already. Grabbing a smaller bag, I pack only the essentials and then call Gerard.
He shows up in under five minutes.
I blink, surprised when I see his SUV slowing to a stop in front of me.
He hops out and opens the back door.
“Gerard,” I approach him slowly, “I told you not to rush. I already feel bad enough dragging you out of bed at this hour—”
“It’s my pleasure, Mrs. Harrington. I’m always available to you.” He tips his head at the open door.
Biting back my tears, I get in.
Gerard slams the door behind me and jogs around to the other side.
“Where to, Mrs. Harrington?” he asks, pale fingers gripping the steering wheel.
“Please call me Elizabeth.”
“Mrs—”
“It’s Elizabeth!” I shriek. Then I let out a breath. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell.”
