The clock on the mantel read 11:58.The girls were chanting now, giddy with anticipation.Jillian, lightly tan and rested from her holiday, caught his eye and gave him a smile.At least she was happy.
Somewhere in the distance, fireworks were already starting—muffled bursts of color that faded as quickly as they came.He thought of Cat in her London flat and hoped she wasn’t alone.
The girls began the final countdown—ten, nine, eight—their voices high and bright, full of the joy he couldn’t summon.But he smiled for them, because that was what fathers did.
*
London was loud.Fireworks had already started along the river, bursts of color painting the low clouds red and gold.From her flat, Cat could see the reflections flashing across the windows of the buildings opposite, hear the faint chorus of voices from the street below counting down the final seconds of the year.
She sat on the sofa, legs tucked beneath her, a half-finished cup of tea cooling on the table.The television was on, the sound turned low.When the countdown began in earnest—ten, nine, eight—she felt the swell of excitement in the city like a pulse, quick and bright.Somewhere, people were kissing, hugging, making resolutions they’d already forget by February.
Outside, the first thunder of fireworks filled the air, scattering light over the city.She thought of Rhys then—not in the cottage, but surrounded by his girls, smiling for them, determined to make it fun.Special.
Cat closed her eyes, letting the noise of the city roll past her.When she opened them again, the fireworks were still exploding against the sky, vivid and intense, but oh so fleeting.It felt like the last few weeks at Langley Park.Brilliant for a moment, then over.
Eyes stinging, Cat reached for her tea, found it cold, and drank it anyway.It would get easier.Things would feel better once she was in Michigan.
Cat picked up her laptop and turned it on.Before she could have second thoughts, she booked herself a one-way flight to Detroit for January second.Once in Detroit, she’d rent a car and drive to her grandmother’s house in Kalamazoo.
Outside, the fireworks faded, leaving only smoke and the hum of the city.Cat pulled the mohair blanket on the couch higher, wrapping it around her shoulders.“Happy New Year,” she whispered.“Here’s to new beginnings.”
Chapter Seventeen
January started wetand the rain didn’t let up.Rhys left the hospital under an umbrella and walked swiftly to his car.He’d meant to go straight home, but his car, or maybe his conscience, had other ideas.
He found himself outside Cat’s building before he’d really decided to come.The windows on the second floor were lit, curtains drawn back, and for a moment, his heart kicked at the thought that she might be inside.He quickly climbed the steps and knocked.
The door opened a few moments later, and Sarah stood there in jeans and a thick jumper, her hair pulled into a loose knot.
Her eyes widened in surprise.“Dr.Harmon!”she exclaimed.“Well, this is a shock.”
“I take it you’re Sarah?”
“I am.”
“You’re a nurse at the hospital.”
“I am.”She blushed a little.“Can I help you with something?”
“Is Cat around?”
Sarah’s expression shifted, the brightness fading.“Ah, you don’t know then.”
He frowned.“Know what?”
“She’s gone.Flew home a few days ago, back to the States.”
For a moment, he just stared at her.The words didn’t quite make sense.“I thought she was leaving on the fifth or sixth.”
“She decided to go back early.I only just made it back from home in time to see her off.Barely caught her at the flat before the taxi came.”
Rhys’s gaze shifted past her into the little living room—the coat stand by the door, the books on the table.Cat’s coat was gone.So was her scarf.
“She wasn’t sure you’d want to see her,” Sarah added quietly.“Said it might be easier that way.”
“Right.Of course.”He tried for a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes.“Thank you.”
Sarah looked at him for a moment, sympathy softening her voice.“You’ve her number, haven’t you?Ring her.Talk to her.”
