“O…kay,” she said, voice small. “Well, um, thanks for everything. I… I’ll see you back in Shady Valley.”
“You will,” I agreed, watching as she slid out of the backseat and the door slammed closed.
She couldn’t see me anymore, but I could see her staring right at me, something on her face that was a mix of confusion and maybe sadness.
Or it was entirely possible that I was just imagining that last one.
My hand went to my chest, pressing against the stabbing pain there. But it only intensified as she jumped at something the driver said, then turned and walked away.
I guess it was something I was going to need to get used to.
I dropped my hand and traced the bracelet on my wrist with my thumb.
“Where to?” the driver asked as he rolled down the partition.
“Back to my car,” I told him.
It was time to make my way back to Shady Valley… and whatever version of Lula I would find when I returned.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Lula
The private jet was stunning. All cream and gleaming dark wood tones. Friendly pilots. An attentive personal flight attendant who somehow disappeared from sight when I didn’t need her.
It was something I’d always dreamed about.
But I couldn’t even enjoy it.
Because my mind wasn’t forty-five thousand feet in the air. It was on solid ground. It was in the backseat of a town car with Raff still inside me, with his arm holding me tight, with his breath in my ear.
I shook those thoughts away, even as I crossed my legs because I could still practically feel him inside me several hours later. I sipped my champagne as I pushed up the window shade and looked down at the impossibly blue sky and cotton candy clouds… and felt nothing.
Well, nothing but something suspiciously close to regret.
But what part did I regret exactly? Sleeping with Raff? Or leaving right after?
I knew the answer.
It was just easier to pretend I didn’t.
Neater.
More predictable and controllable.
I don’t know how long I stared out the window, trying to imagine my thoughts and feelings were as high as the clouds, but eventually the flight attendant was beside me, picking up my empty champagne flute.
“We’re starting our descent now. We should be touching down in about fifteen minutes. Is there anything else I can do for you before we descend?”
“No, thank you.”
She offered me a smile. “Please buckle up and keep your belongings secure.”
When I stepped off the plane twenty minutes later, there was this small, irrational voice inside my head telling me to turn around, to run back into the plane, to demand they take me back to Miami, that it felt wrong to be a whole country away from Raff.
But it was just that—irrational.
And I couldn’t entertain it.
