“Sir,” the first agent says, “please place your hands behind your back.”
“No!” Seeing the flash of metal snaps me out of my initial shock. I reach out to stop Beckett, to stop them. “This is a mistake. Tell them, Beckett.”
Both boys are clinging to me.
Beckett glances towards one of the agents, almost knowingly, and then back to me. “I’m sorry, Ash.” His voice shakes just a little. “Remember what I told you… last night.”
Last night?
The handcuffs click shut around his wrists.
Tears spring to my eyes. “Beckett!”
“I love you,” he says, over the din. They’re dragging him away.
I break free from the boys just in time to grab one of the agents’ arms. “Where are you taking him?”
His eyes meet mine. Pitying. “You’ll be notified once he’s been processed, ma’am. Please step away.”
I’ve lost sight of Beckett.
He’s gone.
GOING HOME WITHOUT HIM
ASHLEY
Istand frozen, my carry-on at my feet, two boys clinging to my sides.
I don’t know what to do.What do I do?
With nothing else to see, the people behind us have grown impatient.
Luna is suddenly in front of me, hands on my arms, eyes wide and searching. She pulls me aside. My mom is there, frowning. And Tay. They’re all asking questions.
So many questions.
“What happened?”
“What did they say?”
“Ashley—what’s going on?” my mom asks in a hushed tone, like she’s trying to protect me from the shame of it.
I’m not embarrassed, though. I don’t have the bandwidth to be embarrassed.
Noah is there too, but he’s glancing around, his jaw set in a take-charge way that says he’s switching gears. “I’m gonna find someone who’ll give us some answers.” Then, to Luna, “Go with Ashley and the kids to the airport,” he adds gently. “I’ll meet you at the gate.”
Luna presses a quick kiss to Noah’s cheek, then turns back to me, already ushering me and the boys forward while her brand-new husband vanishes into the sea of people.
They’re supposed to leave on their honeymoon tomorrow morning.
Behind us, Tay and Simon have fallen into an urgent huddle, heads close, voices low and clipped. My mom’s voice cuts through the noise—too loud, too sharp—and Babs moves instantly, wrapping her in a firm, practiced hug, murmuring something meant to steady her before she can spiral.
I barely register any of it.
They put cuffs on my husband.
The cab ride is a blur—heat pressing in through open windows, exhaust, the city rushing past—I barely can focus on the boys to listen to their questions.
