Page 215 of To Catch a Sub

He’d gotten out of bed only to get a fresh pair of the fuzzy socks out of the pack of five he’d bought, and slipped them onto her feet.

It had been good sex, but the emotional undercurrent, and the look in her eyes, had worried him.

He’d been right to worry.

Landon sat up, looking around his bedroom, which was illuminated only by the morning light coming through a crack in the curtains.

Her suitcase was still here, tucked into a corner of his bedroom. For a minute hope swelled, but the flat felt empty. A quick check showed that her purse and shoes were gone, though there were still clothes in the suitcase. She’d taken only what she needed.

“Fuck.” Landon braced his hands on the door frame, his teeth grinding. “Fuck, Colette. You didn’t even give us a fucking chance.”

He seriously considered punching the door or the wall, as if breaking a bone in his hand would somehow lessen the pain of his heart breaking.

Maybe she’d lied about it all. She’d played him, made him fall in love with her, all so he would protect her. She’d used him to get rid of her enemies and to keep herself out of jail.

It would be so much fucking easier if he believed either of those.

Landon whirled back to the bed, hoping for some sign, some clue as to where she’d run to. Nothing. He turned towards the bathroom, stopping when he spotted the top of his chest of drawers.

The pack of socks was gone.

Landon checked the whole room, even going through her suitcase.

She’d taken what was left of the pack of socks he bought her.

It was the only gift he’d ever given her, and she’d taken it with her when she’d run.

Landon picked up his phone, ready to call…well, he wasn’t sure who the fuck to call.

A new email notification popped up. The notification showed the email subject.

Goodbye

Landon opened the email.

I’m sorry to say goodbye this way. You deserve more, and better, than I could ever give you.

I thought about lying, and saying I haven’t meant the things I’ve said and done. I think it would be easier for you if you hated me. But I’m selfish, and I don’t want you to think I’m the kind of person who would lie about loving someone.

I do love you, more than I ever thought I could.

I’m leaving because I love you, and because I know that being with me will ruin the beautiful life you have. Because of me, you lost your career. Because of me, Nana and Nani and your father all looked so scared for you. Because of me, you almost murdered a man.

I know you think that nothing but love matters, but I want you to be happy, even if that means ripping out my own heart.

La raison parle, mais l'amour chante, and it’s time to stop singing.

Adieu,

Colette

* * *

Colette lay her head back against the plane seat, turning to look out the window. She could see the English Channel, and the coast of either the Netherlands or Belgium. She wasn’t sure which, and didn’t have the energy to check the flight map.

Her chest physically hurt, and she rubbed it with the heel of her hand. She’d never loved someone before, and so had never had a broken heart. She ached with the desire to beg the pilot to turn the plane around and go back to England.

Her imagination painted a vivid fantasy. Her running through the airport and into Landon’s arms. He’d promise her everything would be okay and she’d believe him. In this fantasy her grim childhood didn’t matter, nor did the crimes she’d committed. She’d get a job at a jeweler or a museum. He’d go back to Interpol and they magically wouldn’t care that he was married to a suspected thief.