The next week sped by in a blur, too fast for Sam. The day of Grace’s return ticket home crept closer and closer. It hung over them, a looming end date, but neither of them acknowledged it verbally.
There wasn’t a day that went by they didn’t spend time together. They’d abandoned all pretense of separate rooms, Grace sharing his bed every night. There was no other place he wanted her to be. Having her spooned in front of him while she slept, her shoulder close enough to kiss, her neck near enough to tickle, her heart beating under the palm of his hand—nothing in his life felt so perfect.
After everything they’d experienced together, he’d never been closer to another person before. And each day, they kept becoming closer. He was falling for Grace in a catastrophic way, unable to put on the brakes. He wouldn’t have wanted to even if he could.
And she had never been more stunning. Something had happened the day they experienced the ghosts passing to the other side, something making her shine from the inside, some sort of contentment or acceptance. When he first met her, she’d been reserved, hesitant. On the surface, a stranger might think the same thing now, but Sam saw something else—radiance. It was like what they’d done for the ghosts had changed her for the better. A new purpose made her embrace life. A new determination focused her. It was beautiful and scary. Because he knew along with this new intent inside her, she would eventually leave.
Instead of brooding about their impending separation, Sam took her everywhere, all his favorite castles, day trips, overnight trips. There were more picnics paired with roadside trysts in the backseat of his Astra. They were on this tumbling momentum, neither of them knowing how to stop it. He could see it in her eyes, those moments of melancholy when she was thinking about returning home. And every time he saw it, he’d kiss her, trying to erase the future pain he would feel when she left.
Some of his college friends from Oxford visited. They went to the cinema and out to pubs. They ate sausages from around the world at the local sausage festival, Grace smirking the entire time. There wasn’t a day they were at a loss for something to do. It rained. It poured. Grace learned to carry an umbrella with her everywhere like everyone else.
Tracy resigned herself to their new living arrangement by rolling her eyes, teasing, and throwing out a few well-placed “I told you so’s.” Other than that, she took it in stride. She showed them her favorite places in East London, they met her mother, she took Grace shopping. One day they returned with Tracy laughing so hard she had tears rolling down her face, and Grace’s was as red as a beetroot. Turned out “pants” didn’t mean underwear in the United States.
At Fernsby Investigations, he wrapped up the case of the missing husband. After finding out the cheat owned a second cell phone, they were able to track down not one mistress, but two. A messy divorce was in their client’s future, but their job was done.
He continued to ignore his parents’ pleas to return to the family business, but he knew the day was coming for him to deal with it. He owed it to them and to himself to either do as was expected of him or make a clean break. It wasn’t fair to them to expect his job would be there if he changed his mind.
Risk and reward.
He was starting to see the phrase in a new light. His father had always intended is as a cautionary statement. But now Sam understood something different. There were some things worth taking a giant risk on. His career was one of them. His future was one of them.
Grace was one of them.
In the end, he couldn’t stop time and Grace didn’t change her ticket. The night before her flight, she cooked for him, some pasta dish he didn’t taste, though he was sure it was delicious. He couldn’t stop staring at her, memorizing every detail, the way loose hairs tickled the back of her neck, the way she took delicate bites, the way she wiped her mouth with a napkin before taking a sip of wine, the way her cheeks reddened when she noticed him staring.
They didn’t get to dessert. Instead, they found themselves in bed, showing each other how much they cared in the most intimate ways possible. Hour after hour, they took their time with each other, never sleeping, only feeling.
Afterward, he kept his arms around her, and she gripped his arm so tight he was probably going to have fingernail impressions in his skin for days. He didn’t care. If she wanted to brand him for life, he’d take it. Because at least he’d have a permanent reminder of her.
He wanted to tell her he loved her. He wanted to ask her to stay.
Neither of those sentences left his lips. Grace needed to figure this life out for herself. He wouldn’t stop her or get in her way.
The world outside was dark and quiet when Grace broke the silence shrouding them. “I owe it to my mom—and my dad—to go back and fix things.”
“I understand,” he murmured against her neck, holding her close. He really did understand, but he still didn’t want to let her go.
“But I don’t want this to end.” She stroked his arm, letting him know what “this” meant.
His lips brushed her shoulder. “It doesn’t have to.”
She turned her head a bit, even though she wouldn’t be able to see him in the dark. “How?”
“Call me every day. Or night. Or both. Just talk to me.”
She sniffed. “All right.” Her voice broke and he knew she was crying.
He turned her to face him and hugged her tight. “Ah, Grace.” Holding her close, he kissed her forehead, cheeks, and chin as she continued to make small sniffling noises. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you cry before.” And it shattered his already breaking heart.
“Nothing has ever hurt this much.” Each word came out fast and sloppy.
He held her through her tears and kept her close as those tears ebbed. He held her as she relaxed. Eventually her body gave into slumber.
But he didn’t want to sleep. Every second with her was precious.
The sunrise came too soon. He allowed her to sleep as long as possible, then it became a rush to get her to the airport in time. She’d wanted to take the Tube, but Sam wouldn’t hear it and drove her there.
When they took her rucksack out of the hatch, Grace had her serene face on, the one she gave strangers when she didn’t like what they were telling her. They’d said their goodbyes last night, and this was a formality.
As they walked to the terminal, the urge to convince her to stay overtook every other emotion. She’d go back to her life, to her family, and forget all about him. The thought sent a stab of pain through his gut.
He swallowed. All he wanted to do was hold her tight and not let go. Could anyone keep hold of a woman like Grace? In a lot of ways, she kept herself apart from others. But he’d learned about her in this past month. He’d learned what made her tick, what made her smile her true smile, what hid behind her frown, and he wasn’t sure anyone else in the world would have noticed all these things about her like he did.
They didn’t speak as they entered the international terminal. The sterility of the place pressed in on them, the floors shiny, the ceilings vaulted. They stopped in front of the check-in counters.
Taking hold of her fingers with one hand, he tipped her chin up with his other. “I’ll miss you,” he said quietly, examining her features, impressing them on his memory.
Her throat bobbed up and down, the first crack in the emotional armor she’d erected. “I’ll miss you too.”
Then he kissed her, so lightly. Their lips barely touched but the electricity between them crackled.
She stepped back and away. A jerky hand swiped at the corner of her eye.
His throat so tight it hurt, he watched as she checked in. His arms hung useless and limp at his sides. He wanted to run over there and insist she stay, that they could find their own place and make a go of it. Instead, he tucked his hands in his pockets.
She checked her rucksack, only keeping the sling bag she always wore across her body with her. When she stepped away from the counter, she looked at him.
With a nod and a smile, and a lift of her hand, she walked through the glass doors and into the customs area.
And that was it. He watched her walk out of his life.