“I love you, Anna. You’ll always be the best friend I’ve ever had.” Then I walk away with nothing but emptiness as my souvenir.
Stepping into the elevator, I turn back to give a parting glance at the people I once called friends. Colt’s passed out on the floor, Dingo and Sia are squatting next to him, trying to slap him awake. Anna is crying into Johnny’s chest. Hux, who is undoubtedly high, is oblivious to what’s going on and couldn’t care less.
The cab ride to the airport is quiet, the early morning air flooding through the open window onto my heated face, awakening my senses as I gaze out at Berlin’s tranquil streets. I’m relieved the flight home to London is just under two hours—anything longer feels unbearable.
Fortunately, Berlin Brandenburg Airport operates twenty-four-seven, so I shouldn’t have to wait long for a flight. I pull a compact from my purse to assess the damage to my forehead.
When I entered the cab, the driver gave me a concerned look, so I suspect there are visible marks on me. Opening the compact, there’s a vivid purple bruise surrounding a swollen cut on the left side of my forehead. The ache intensifies as I gently touch the clotted blood over the wound. A line of semi-dry blood traces down my cheek, and I notice splatters on my white tank top. I exhale, retrieve a tissue from my purse, and blot the blood from my face.
Upon arrival at the airport, the driver unloads my luggage, his eyes filled with sympathy. We don’t share a common language, but his concern is evident.
Inside the terminal, the bright lights and bustling energy contrast sharply with the turmoil inside me. I approach the ticket counter, hoping to secure the next flight to London. The attendant raises an eyebrow at my appearance but processes my request without comment.
With my boarding pass in hand, I find a restroom to clean up. The cold water against my skin is a stark reminder of reality. I change into a fresh shirt from my carry-on and discard the stained tank top.
As I make my way to the gate, the weight of my decision settles in.
Leaving Colt, leaving Berlin—it’s the hardest choice I’ve ever made, but deep down, I know it’s the right one.
The boarding call finally echoes through the terminal.
I take a deep breath, gather my belongings, and step onto the plane, ready to face whatever comes next. My body operates on autopilot, mechanically moving from point A to point B. Normally, I’d rely on one of Tamara’s magic pills to stave off panic, but now, I feelnothing.
Seated by the plane’s window, I stare into the abyss, watching tiny lights below shrink as we ascend.
My mind drifts…
Where will I go when I land in London?
Returning to the manor is out of the question.
Daddy would relish in telling me, “‘I told you so,’ and I’m too angry with him to endure that.
The Rutherford Regent Hotel?
No, too many memories ofhimlinger there.
That leaves only one option…
Joseph.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The cab pulls up to the curb of the condo I once shared with Joseph. The street is quiet in the pre-dawn darkness, though the first chirps of the morning birds pierce the silence.
Damn birds!
Their cheerful songs feel like a mockery of my turmoil.
I step out after paying the driver, the cool air biting against my skin, and approach the familiar door. Memories of our time together flood back, each step heavier than the last. I hesitate, hand hovering over the doorbell, uncertainty gnawing at me, but then I remember I still have my keys.
When I walk inside, I hear a slapping sound coming from the living room. The lights are on, and I stand confused—Joseph shouldn’t be up yet.I quietly close the door so as not to disturb him, but then the sounds of grunting and heavy breathing fill the silence.
What the hell?
I set my luggage down and head through the entryway to the living room.
Well shit!
