A dream for most, yet for me, it felt like a nightmare.
“Will you come say goodbye?”
She shook her head, a small crack appearing in her carefully controlled façade. “No. We said our goodbyes already.”
She held out her hand. “Thank you, Mr. Maxwell. I wish you much luck in the future.”
I stared at her hand before wrapping mine around it, shaking it gently. It took everything in me not to pull her into my arms one last time, but I knew she didn’t want that. Our time was done. “I hope the future is good to you, Alex.”
She bit her lip, straightened her shoulders, and smiled. “Don’t be late for your car. I went to a lot of trouble to get you something other than a minivan.” Turning abruptly, she walked away from me.
The quiet click of the door shutting echoed in my head long after she left.
A TOWN CAR PULLED UP in front of the inn. The lobby was deserted. No guests were expected—Alex explained they shut down between now and the end of January. Usually, they took that time to make repairs and reorganize for the upcoming season. I wondered what she would be doing this year. Then, I realized she would be looking for a job and a new place to live. My stomach tightened, and my fists clenched at my sides at the thought of her having to do either.
I wanted her to be the last thing I saw before I left. I wanted to hold her, to taste her, to commit her to memory.
But that wasn’t going to happen. I grabbed my luggage and walked out the door to the waiting car. I waved off the driver, tossing my bags in the back seat and climbing in.
He put the car in gear, the tires hesitating on the icy surface, then we began to move. A noise caught my ears and I turned, shocked to see Alex behind the car, waving frantically, crying out my name.
“Stop!” I yelled, already reaching for the door.
I was out of the car, running to her, gathering her up in my arms, holding her tight. I felt the tremble in her body, and I opened my coat, wrapping her up in the warmth.
For a moment, the ache left my chest and my tension eased.
She tilted up her head. “I had to say goodbye, Dylan. I had to thank you.”
“For what?” I studied her face, even as the tension crept back. Her lovely, sweet face I never wanted to forget, because she was still saying goodbye.
“These past few days, you made me remember what it was like to be Alex—to feel something other than worry and duty. You gave me a great gift. I don’t want you to think I regretted it. I don’t—not a single second.”
Leaning up, she offered her mouth, and I took it, kissing her with everything I had—claiming her mouth, claiming her. I poured every good feeling, smile, and touch we shared into that kiss. I kissed her until the brief honk of the car horn reminded me I had to get on the road or I would miss my plane. Reluctantly, I released her, setting her on her feet, dropping one last, lingering kiss to her mouth. I held her chin in my hand, looking into her eyes.
“You’re the one who gave me the gift, Alex. And I’ll never forget it, or you.”
“Be happy, Dylan.”
I squeezed her hand. “Be well, my darling girl.”
I held her close one last time, then strode back to the car. Slamming the door behind me, in a gruff voice, I informed the driver we could go.
I didn’t look back.
I didn’t know how to cope with the feeling of emptiness and that I was leaving something important behind.
“Amy!” I hollered, slamming down my coffee mug.
My door opened and she crept in, already looking scared. She should be. I was gone days, not weeks, and she’d messed up my coffee every single time since I came back, as if she’d forgotten. How fucking difficult was it to make a cup of coffee?
I pushed my mug toward the edge of the desk. “Get me another one, and for God’s sake, get it right or you’re fired.”
Arlene walked in, breezing past Amy, who was frozen, her mouth agape. Arlene came to my desk, lifted my mug, and took a sip. She turned to Amy. “It’s fine. Go back to your desk.”
Amy scurried out, shutting the door too loudly for my liking. I slammed down my hand on the wooden surface, glaring at Arlene. “Don’t be overriding my authority with my staff. You don’t even work here anymore!”
“Stop taking out your bad mood on the poor girl. And I do still work here until the end of the year.”