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A bright blue shuttle pulled up outside the hotel’s glass doors, and my heart dropped even lower.
“That’s your ride.” Duncan walked me out to the curb, my hand held tightly in his as though he didn’t want to let me go.
The shuttle driver tossed my bags inside and settled back onto his seat, waiting.
I looked over the shuttle. “No tartan.”
Seemed a lost opportunity.
Finally, I faced Duncan. I fought back tears—if I started crying now, I wouldn’t stop.
“You’re sure I can’t convince you?” he said softly.
No pushing, only a gentle request.
Heartache rose in my chest like bile. Everything I wanted fought against everything I already had. “I can’t miss my flight.”
“I know how you love to fly.”
“I’ll—” No. I wouldn’t tell himI’ll keep in touch. So much less than what I wanted, it would feel like a watered-down goodbye.
I threw my arms around him and pressed my face to his neck. “I’ll miss you,” I whispered, my lips brushing his skin, my eyes squeezing back tears.
He held me tight. “We’ll see each other again.”
I clung to his confidence like a buoy. Holding my face in both hands, he kissed me with all the tender sweetness of anI love you. Oh, I wanted to believe in that kiss.
He scrutinized my face and nodded once. I almost wished he would have railed against my choice, but he understood me better than I’d realized. I had to go, and he wouldn’t push me to stay.
We had one last, all too brief kiss before I climbed onto the shuttle. Duncan stood in front of the hotel, one hand sunk in his jeans pocket, the other raised in farewell as the shuttle pulled away from the curb.
I got about one block from the hotel before the crying started. Not sad, stoic tears running nobly down my cheeks, but huge, blubbering crying that shook my whole body and covered my face in snot. My heart hurt and my stomach rolled and I hated myself just a little.
Maybe a lot.
“All right, Miss?”
The shuttle driver watched me in the huge rear-view, his brow furrowed as his sole passenger had a nervous breakdown. A red and green tartan ribbon wound around the rear-view arm. I might have asked if it was Clan Stewart if I could have mustered up interest for anyone but myself just then.
I gave him a pathetic wave and resumed my crying, going full-bore crazy in front of a stranger. Itwascrazy to think Duncan and I could have anything more than this vacation. We weren’t Bea and Rupert, randomly running into each other on our way to the same place. We were grown adults with lives half a world apart. Trying to create something real meant phone calls at odd hours and full-day plane trips and snippets of togetherness cobbled from vacation days.
Leaving felt like running my heart through a shredder, but I couldn’t see how long distance would work.
Only…Duncan hadn’t asked me to be in a long-distance relationship. He wantedme, now, with him. Didn’t I want him, too?More than anything.His confidence, his unflagging encouragement, his laughter that felt like home. I wanted it all. But I couldn’t make a rash decision like that. I needed time to think about it. Maybe when I got to Seattle and cleared my head.
I sagged against the seat as Jill’s words came back to me.“‘I’ll think about it’ means ‘I’m going to drag my feet until it’s too late to do anything about it.’”After my spectacular work failure, pondering and deliberating had become my go-to until whatever it was I wanted had long gone. Would I really let Duncan pass me by?
Or would I find a way to trust in this feeling that swallowed me up whole, telling me I was meant to be with him, no matter what it took to get there?
My phone buzzed, and I fumbled for it with shaky fingers. Maybe Duncan knew I needed a gentle push, after all. My excitement shattered when I saw who it actually was.
Well, I couldn’t possibly feel any worse. Might as well answer.
“Lincoln.”
“You sound awful, Molly. Were you sleeping?”
“No, I wasn’t sleeping.” My voice was thick from crying and my nose had clogged with tears, but I wasn’t sleeping at noon on a Saturday. “Shouldn’t you be?”
