Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 98345 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98345 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
When he finally looks at me with sleepy, sweet eyes, he leans over to kiss me. None the wiser. “I need to get ready, but stay in bed if you want. I know you must be tired.”
So I do. I stay under the covers, listening to him move about the room, watching him pack—efficiently and quickly, of course—before he showers and dresses in a pressed navy suit. He’s gorgeous and absolutely, positively devastating. This man can never be topped; I envy all the women who’ll get the pleasure of crossing paths with him today. Tomorrow. God, how lucky someone would be to have this man forever.
Once he’s nearly finished, I crawl out of bed (reluctantly, because, hello, not-too-hard-not-too-soft king mattress I’ll never get to experience again in my life because I’m too poor), and I dress in my clothes from the night before. Phillip watches me as I do it, but I pretend not to notice because we’re doing so well. I can’t screw it up now.
He asks if I want breakfast, but I can’t eat. Nothing’s getting down into this stomach today. It’s a vise.
“Still full from last night,” I lie. “Besides, I need to go pack. My suite is a mess.”
I’m not even exaggerating. I’ve been so busy the last few days that I haven’t had a chance to begin getting my things together.
He checks his watch with a frown. “I leave here at nine.”
“I think I depart an hour later.”
It’s already 8:05 a.m.
God, the minutes are slipping by like quicksand.
He looks up, meeting my eyes. My chest constricts. “I could stay, I think. I’d be cutting it close getting to—”
“No, no.” I cut him off. “Let’s say our goodbyes now.”
I want to be helpful. It’s so important for me to hold it together, to be strong in this. We really have the chance to keep things good between us. I think back on how Sienna described her fight with Javier, how she wished she’d just left while the getting was good. I want to make it so if we ever do cross paths again in the future, years down the line, we can smile and think back fondly of our time together. That wouldn’t be such a bad thing. A happy farewell is within reach; I just have to ignore that ache of sadness and put on a brave face. I know I can do it. Especially if I rely on humor.
Once Phillip walks me to the door, I reach out my hand for him to formally shake, and I start to speak with a businesslike tone as if we’ve just ended a meeting together. “Phillip Woodmont, it’s been an absolute pleasure. My pleasure, mostly.” I throw in a teasing wink.
He laughs and accepts my hand. “Casey Hughes. It was good to see you, after all these years.”
His gaze contradicts his words. Too serious. Too conflicted.
Heat springs from where we touch. His grip tightens, and my throat starts to tighten. The dam holding back all the unshed tears is starting to crack and splinter.
“You have yourself a fine cruise ship here. I loved every inch of it. Loved the whole trip, actually.” A tear springs free even as I keep smiling. I laugh and brush it away like it’s nothing. “Damn allergies.”
Phillip frowns and tugs me close so he can envelop me in his arms. “Casey—”
I squeeze my eyes closed and shake my head so my forehead rolls back and forth against his sturdy chest. “Please don’t make it harder.”
“It doesn’t have to be like this.”
I can’t consider otherwise. Hope can be such a terrible thing, and I’ve been so careful not to feed off it the last few days. I refuse to start now.
“You have somewhere to be, and so do I. I have a whole new life to be getting to, apparently! So stop delaying me, will you?” Only I’m the one hugging him for dear life, not letting go. “Just . . . okay. I’m going to step back; you’re going to smile, and then I’m going to open the door and walk out. Are you ready?”
“No.”
My heart sinks. “Phillip,” I chide.
“Is this truly what you want?”
No. No. Absolutely not. It’s the last thing I want, you fool, and yet I’m nodding. “Yes. It’s the best way forward. I appreciate everything you’ve done. Your kindness . . .” I realize I’m veering far too close to a well of sentiment and sadness and feelings, so I stop short and let my sentence linger.
He bends to kiss the top of my head, and it seems like he’s trying to absorb my scent for as long as he can. Despite everything, tears really start spilling down my cheeks. The dam is officially broken.
“Okay, here we go,” I say, narrating my movements. “I’m stepping back. Look, I’m doing it. I’m waving. Now you wave to me.”