I glanced down at my suitcase resting beside me, a bottle of cheap airport wine tucked in the pocket, the fabric worn at the seams from every time I swore I’d start over.
“Let’s make some good memories from now on,” I whispered.
“Flight A604, we are now boarding zone nine. That is flight A604, we are now boarding zone nine.”
I glanced down at my pass again. Zone nine.Here goes nothing. You got this harper.
This is good.
I need this.
Paris. Spain. Italy.
You are not running away, Harper. You are going on an adventure. New languages, new people. New you.
Doing something for yourself, for once.
But then—another sound crackled overhead, a mic clicking on.
“Excuse me,” a voice boomed over the loudspeaker, too familiar. “I’ve been told I have three minutes.”
Oh, hell no.
My head snapped up.
There he was.
Ambrose.
Standing at the airport announcement desk like he owned the building. Like hewasthe goddamn announcement.
And behind him? Dozens of reporters. Cameras aimed at us like we were the main characters in some fever dream of a rom-com climax.
His dark hair was slightly disheveled like he had run here. His tie was crooked. His eyes were not.
They locked on mine from across the terminal with surgical precision.
“Harper,” he said, and my name sounded like scripture in his mouth. “Before you get on that plane, I need to say something.”
My stomach flipped in on itself as I rushed to my feet. “What are you doing?” I hissed, my heart thundering in my chest.
“This is the part,” he said, “where the foolish man runs to the airport in one last grand gesture, hoping the woman he loves will hear him out.”
People were staring. Thewholeairport was staring.
“My life has always been rules,” he continued, “structure, balance. I have never known anything beyond that. Until you came along, destroying everything I had built.”
“This doesn’t sound like an apology,” I snapped.
“No,” he agreed. “It’s not.”
He swallowed, voice thickening just a little. Just enough to rattle me.
“But no matter how many rules I broke for you, I found myselfwantingto break more. Iwantedyou to tear down every wall I spent years building. Because somehow, you made me feel like being undone wasn’t a weakness—it was… necessary. So, here I am. Not thinking of all the ways this could go wrong, what people might think of me, or every reason we shouldn’t be together. Because all I need is three minutes. Three minutes, no plan, and one chance. I am stupid and hopeless. You have turned me into a fool and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
The flashes and shuttering from reporters hurried as Ambrose walked over to me, their cameras on him. On me. Onus.
Ambrose’s voice lowered as he stepped closer to me, his presence sucking the air out of the room. “I love you.I love you, and I don’t care who knows it.”
