Page 155 of Double Fault

“Noah.” My lips flatten, even as my heart flips. “We have to say goodbye at some point.”

He stuffs his hands in the kangaroo pouch of his hoodie. “I know, but not yet.”

I don’t know whether to be grateful for the extra time or hate him for dragging this out when I just want to cry in peace.

When my luggage is loaded, he guides me into the back of the car. As the driver pulls away from the curb, my breaths speed up, becoming more shallow. I said goodbye to Maddie last night. Noah and I agreed it would be too hard to do it this morning. Not to mention the early hour. It’s still dark outside, and as usual, rain drizzles lazily on the windshield.

Our clasped hands rest on the leather seat between us as we peer out our respective windows rather than look at each other. If I look at him, I’ll fall apart, and I have a feeling the same goes for him.

The worst part is, I think I could’ve convinced myself and him that this was the wrong choice if I hadn’t gotten a response from Jessica and felt the stirring of excitement in my stomach.

Noah’s right. I need to at least try.

Pulling up to Heathrow this time is painful. Once I step out of this car, it’ll be real. I’m leaving, and Noah and Maddie aren’t coming with me.

The closer we get to the arrival doors, the heavier my heart is.

I’m doing this for us, I remind myself.

It’s time for me to follow my dream. It may not be as exciting as being a professional tennis player, but I’ve always wanted to be a teacher, and if I don’t do it now, I’m afraid the what-ifs will follow me through life.

When the car comes to a stop, I want to throw up.

I’m going to break down in front of all these people and completely embarrass myself. I can all but guarantee it.

Noah lets go of my hand and opens his door.

Do not cry. Do not cry. Do not cry.

He comes around to my side and holds his hand out. “Come on, Curls.”

I heft my backpack onto my shoulders, and Noah snags my duffel and suitcase from the driver, then strides straight for the doors.

“Where are you going?” I hurry after him.

He looks back at me, and I’m struck with the realization that after this morning, I won’t see him every day. He’s got his cap on backward, probably because he knows it drives me crazy, and his skin is tan from all his time on the court.

“You didn’t think I’d make you wait at your gate by yourself for hours, did you?”

“Hold on,” I say as the doors slide open and we head toward TSA PreCheck. “Are you telling me you bought a second ticket just so you could go through security and sit with me until I have to board?”

This man.

Months ago, I thought Noah was nothing but a rude asshole. In reality it was simply a façade he hid behind to protect his tender heart.

“Yes.”

My heart takes a tumble. “Noah.” His name is practically a whimper.

He keeps breaking my heart all over again. Why does he have to be so good?

“Let’s get through security, Curls. We have a few hours to kill before you get all weepy on me, okay?”

I suck my cheeks in and blink. “I’m pretty sure I’m going to cry right now.”

Stopping near the PreCheck entrance, he sets my duffel bag on top of the suitcase and takes my face in his hands. “This doesn’t have to be goodbye.”

My lip trembles. “But it could be months before I see you again.”

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