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Lil’s gaze softens as she nods. She has always been the more forgiving type. Gemma, however, still looks unsure. After what she went through, honesty and loyalty are everything to her. Something she found with Elijah.

“Text us when you get there, okay?” Gemma says. “And when you’re leaving. And—”

“Of course. You’ll get all the details,” I say.

They both envelop me in a hug. “Good luck,” they whisper almost in unison.

“Love you, guys.”

“We love you, too,” Gemma says.

“Very much,” Lil adds.

“I should get going. Connor’s waiting.”

With one last squeeze, they release me, and I get down.

What if this is a mistake? What if seeing Chris only makes things worse?

But I have to know. No matter how ugly or painful it might be, I have to see him to finally be able to move on.

The parking garage is dimly lit, shadows pooling in the corners, and there he is. A shadow that always followed me.

My stalker.

Connor. Leaning against his car. He’s dressed in a suit, his sleeves rolled up and no tie.

Our eyes meet, and the pain in his makes me want to run into his arms, kiss him, and make everything okay again. But no, not yet. Not until I have answers.

His tone is brisk, business-like. “Ready?”

Is he as nervous as I am? I nod, not trusting my voice. He pushes off the car and opens the passenger door for me.

I get in, murmuring a subdued “Thank you.”

Connor closes the door with a soft thud and places my suitcase in the back of the car before he walks around to the driver’s side, settling in with a sigh.

Neither of us speaks as we make our way through the busy streets. My thoughts churn anxiously, doubts rising to the surface. Maybe I shouldn’t have asked Connor to do this. Maybe this visit is a mistake.

The airport looms ahead, and I realize I don’t even know where we’re going. A sleek private jet comes into view, the engines already humming in preparation. The finality of our next step presses down on me.

“We’re flying?”

His knuckles tighten on the steering wheel. “Italy.”

Italy. The word resonates in the confined space, bouncing off the windows and settling heavily in my chest. “Italy?”

“Si.” The foreign syllable slips from his lips effortlessly. “He needed to be as far away as possible.”

I nod because what else can I do? This is what I wanted, wasn’t it? Closure. Answers. A chance to see the path not taken, to confront the ghost that has haunted my dreams and whispered sweet deceptions in the dark.

He parks and kills the engine. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes.” My voice pitches higher than it should because everything is far from fine, but for now, it’s all I can offer.

Connor gets out and opens the door for me, helping me out of the car. I follow him up the stairs into the plane, steeling myself for whatever, or more like, Chris in Italy.

The cabin is spacious and luxurious.

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