I felt him in the hinterland between slumber and awareness. I felt his breath in the juncture between my neck and shoulder. I felt his lips in the rivulets of warm sunlight on my face.
Then I felt him ripping away.
The agony of his leaving came with a gnawing coldness that invaded every nerve, organ, and bone in my body. The instinct to chase him was enormous, but I fought it. I let him go without screaming and sobbing and demanding he stay just one more day.
I’d been so angry with him when I fell asleep last night. But this morning, I felt nothing but harrowing grief.
He was doing the right thing. The noble thing. He was protecting me, protecting us, and it hurt him as much as it hurt me.
I refused to make this harder than it already was.
So when he quietly, tenderly kissed me goodbye, I held still and pretended to sleep. I stayed in bed as he slipped out of the room. I didn’t make a sound until the front door shut and his car motored away.
Air heaved in and out of my lungs, fast and heavy, the pain gathering and building until I couldn’t contain it. When I finally let it out, it poured in an avalanche of ugly sobbing tears.
Other than the mornings he’d left me in bed sleeping while he attended Sunday Mass at the small church in town, we’d been inseparable. Having spent every second with him for the past two weeks, I’d grown accustomed to his company. I’d grown to depend on it and need him in a way I’d never needed another person.
I still had five months left with him. But I would never be with him in the way we’d been in this cabin in the mountains. He was going back to be a priest, a teacher. And I would return as his student, a Constantine heiress, and the future wife of Tucker Kensington.
He’d told me to trust him, and I did. I trusted he would do everything he could to change my fate. But he wouldn’t change my mother’s mind. She would have him killed if he so much as mentioned he was interested in me.
He would already be dead if she knew he’d fucked me.
As the bed grew colder in his absence, I crawled out and got ready for the day. Then I cleaned the cabin, visited the beavers, and packed up my belongings.
It was late afternoon when I found myself sitting at the table, out of distractions, and missing him with every broken beat of my heart.
How was I going to see him every day and not touch him? How would I look into his eyes and not kiss him? How would I sleep in my dorm without his arms around me?
The only consolation was in knowing that I would spend every day with him until I graduated. Even if it was only on a professional level. We still had time. I had time to find a way to escape my mother’s plans. Maybe one of my brothers could help me. I wasn’t giving up.
I ran my fingers over the tennis bracelet on my wrist. At some point last month, Magnus had sneaked the broken jewelry out of my room and had it repaired. He gave it to me on Christmas morning along with an e-reader loaded with books. Dozens of books, manuals, and journals on every aspect of launching and running a business, as well as step-by-step guides to starting an animal rescue.
He’d done all of this before we’d had sex. He’d done it because he cared about me.
Did he love me?
We hadn’t talked about that. We never said the words, even though I’d felt them every goddamn time I looked at him.
It was for the best.
But sitting here obsessing over him wasn’t for the best, so I decided to go on a hike. As I pulled on my boots, the sound of an approaching car reached my ears.
I froze, listening. Had Magnus returned?
My heart hurtled to my throat as I raced to the window.
A black luxury sedan emerged on the road amid the trees. Not Magnus.
I recognized the make and model. My mother always commissioned the same kind of car.
Blood pounded in my ears, and every ounce of warmth drained from my body.
My mother was here.
In Maine.
At the cabin that belonged to Magnus.
She knew.
She fucking knew.
My first instinct was to run. Hide. But I had to see who was