I don’t think for a minute that Taylor would take a connecting flight. She hates flying, so the idea of her having to get one flight, only to change to another…no, she wouldn’t do it.

The thought of her grumbling about it almost makes me smile.

“Okay, I’ll start making calls. Sir…Miss Shaw…she’s important to you?”

I glance back at Amber over my shoulder. “She’s all that’s important.”

She gives me a gentle, sad kind of smile.

I face back ahead and continue to search every face that comes into the airport, looking for the only face that matters.

She hasn’t shown.

Check-in closed thirty minutes ago. The flight to Boston is due to leave in fifteen minutes, and she hasn’t arrived.

I walked around the airport, looking for her, having Amber keep guard at the ticket desk, but nothing.

Taylor hasn’t shown. Or called.

I’ve tried calling her multiple times, and all I’ve gotten is her voicemail.

And, now, I’m scared. Because I have no clue where she is.

I was so sure this was where she was heading.

So, either she’s gone somewhere—somewhere I have no fucking clue about—and she’s still taking the flight home tomorrow…or she decided not to wait for the tumor to take her, but to take matters into her own hands.

My eyes close painfully on the thought.

No, she wouldn’t do that.

But then I didn’t think she’d ever slowly kill herself.

What if she’s been struck down with another headache or, worse, a seizure, and she’s hurt somewhere?

Fuck.

I can’t take any more of the not knowing. The waiting.

I don’t know what to do.

I get up out of the chair I finally sat in earlier when my legs were aching from standing and walking around. “I’m gonna head out. Thanks for your help, Amber.”

She gives me a sad look. “I’m sorry she didn’t show up.”

Not as sorry as I am.

“I’ll leave the flag in the system, and if she does turn up, I’ll let you know straightaway.”

“Thanks.” I push my hands into my pockets and start to walk away.

Then, I stop and turn back. “Amber?”

She looks up from her computer screen. “Yes, sir?”

“I’m sorry I yelled at you on the phone earlier.”

She gives me a small smile. “It’s okay.”

I turn and walk out of the airport, desolation weighing heavily on my shoulders.

I walk up to my car and see a clamp on the wheel.

Pressing my lips together, I shut my eyes and heave a breath out through my nose. “Motherfucker.”

I don’t even have the will or energy to get pissed about it.

I’ll have to leave it. I’ll get Pam to sort it.

As I walk to the taxi stand, I fire off a text to Pam, letting her know that my car is clamped at Heathrow.

I get an immediate reply.

Pam: Will sort ASAP.

I reply.

Me: Thanks.

Then, I shove my phone back in my pocket.

Only a few people are ahead of me in the taxi line, so soon, I’m in a cab and giving the driver the address to my apartment building.

Letting out a sigh, I tip my head back on the seat and stare up at the ceiling of the cab, feeling more lost than I ever have in my life.

In the background, on the cab’s radio, Oasis’s “Don’t Go Away” is playing.

I swear, music is set to torture me nowadays.

I let out a laugh, but it’s not humorous. It’s pained. This fucking hurts more than anything has hurt before.

She’s gone.

She came into my life and made it the best it’s ever been. She made me fall in love with her, and now, she’s disappeared, and I don’t know where she is.

I have no clue if she’s even still ali—

Pressure quickly builds behind my eyes. Closing them, I press the heels of my hands to my eyes and then push my fingers into my hair as I take a deep breath.

I won’t think that way. I refuse to believe that she’d go through with it.

I have to have hope because it’s all I’ve got left.

I’ll just go back to the airport again tomorrow when I know she’s scheduled to fly, praying to God that she shows up.

In the meantime, I’ll keep trying her phone and hope she turns it on.

I drop my hands from my head and force myself to stare out the window, trying to think about anything but what’s happening now. Focus on tomorrow when I do find her and make her stay. Make her live.

When the cab finally pulls up outside my building, I pay him the fare and climb out.

I push open the main door to my apartment building. Sid, the building’s security manager, is sitting at his desk. He looks almost relieved when he sees me, which is odd.

I lift my chin at him in greeting. I don’t feel like talking to anyone right now.

Sid gets to his feet. Tipping his head forward, he says, “Mr. Hunter, there’s someone here to see you. Been waiting a long while.”

My eyes follow the direction where Sid is looking, and I freeze on the spot.

Taylor.

I watch as Taylor slowly rises to her feet, standing up from the sofa in the building’s lobby where she was sitting. Her eyes are fixed on me.

And I can’t move. I’m frozen in place, and my heart is trying to kick its way out of my chest and get to her.

She’s here. That has to be a good sign, right?

You thought that the last time when she showed up at Cam’s Bar.

Look how that turned out.

Taking a deep breath, I force my feet to move, and I start walking toward her.