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“Thank you.”

My bags are already waiting for me when I step through the door into the tiny arrivals room. I take them and walk toward the exit, where, sure enough, a driver is waiting on the other side.

“Hello, Miss Ingram.” He takes my luggage easily, even though I packed them so badly last night that I’m pretty sure the big one was way over any weight limit for commercial airlines. And of course the little one is missing a wheel, making his job harder.

Not that he complains. Instead he gives me a big smile. “Please follow me. Did you have a good flight?”

“Yes, thank you,” I lie, because he doesn’t need to hear my woes, not on Christmas Eve. “I think I slept through most of it.”

He leads me out of the glass doors and the cold New Jersey air hits my face. Before I climb into the car, I pull my phone from my coat pocket and switch it back on. The screen lights up instantly with four missed calls from Theo.

There are also three voicemails along with a message from Jennifer that says: CALL ME AS SOON AS YOU LAND!!!!!

I’m guessing she got the text I sent her as I boarded the plane. It was late last night, her time, the morning in the U.K. Not ready to face any questions yet, I clear the notifications and slide the phone back into my pocket.

“Where to, ma’am?” the driver asks.

“Is it too early for a drink?” I joke.

“Never too early,” he assures me, like he’s heard that before. “It’s Christmas Eve, after all.”

“Don’t worry, I’m kidding. I’d like to go home.” I give him the address and sit back in the car, trying to ignore how surreal this all is.

I just flew home in a private jet. Now I’m being driven by a chauffeur. Even when I was engaged to Patrick, he could never have afforded anything like this.

And I’ll probably never experience it again.

Maybe that’s a good thing.

The car pulls away from the terminal, merging onto the highway toward Manhattan. In the distance the skyline rises out of the winter haze, sharp and glittering in the sun.

It’s like nothing has changed since I left. Except me.

My phone starts to buzz and Caleb’s name appears on the screen. I swipe my thumb to answer.

“Please tell me you landed in one piece,” Caleb says when I greet him.

“I did. Thank you so much for arranging it,” I tell him. “And don’t worry, your pilot kept me alive.”

“Good. Because Lara’s already after my balls. And if she doesn’t get them, Theo probably will.” His voice softens. “Are you doing okay?”

“I will be,” I say after a moment, because that’s as much as I can truthfully tell him. I’ve done this before. I can do it again.

Even if right now it feels impossible.

The skyline slips past the window as we head toward the bridge. I let out a yawn and he laughs.

“Sorry, I’m just tired.”

“Ditto,” he says, and I immediately feel guilty. He’s spent most of the last twenty-four hours making sure I got home safely.

“Please tell me I haven’t ruined your fabulous Christmas plans.”

He chuckles. “Unless you call eating a curry and catching up on my emails fabulous, then no. You’ve ruined nothing.”

I blow out a breath. “Have you heard from Theo?” I ask, careful to keep my voice neutral.

He pauses for a moment.