Page 71 of Fated Love with You
“Yes…” I manage. “It’s me, Mom.”
“It’s good to get a call from you.” She sounds like she’s crying, too. “Are you alright?”
“No,” I admit. “No, I’m not alright. I need to come home. Can I please come home?”
“Of course you can, hun. When are you thinking?”
“Within the next four hours,” I say. “Depending on any delays or weather issues… I’m at the airport now and I’m going to get a last-minute flight.”
“I’ll head to the airport now,” she says. “I’ll be waiting to see you. I love you, Autumn.”
“I love you, too, Mom. Thank you.”
“Always.”
I end the call and wipe my face. Walking away from the kiosk, I approach the ticket desk instead, sliding over my driver’s license and requesting a ticket.
“Must be your lucky day.” She smiles at me. “There’s a first-class seat left. Want it?”
“Yes, please.”
I request to check my bag and then I head to security, ready to leave Seattle—the city that broke my heart twice—far behind. Forever.
End of Episode 23
Things Left Unresolved
EPISODE 24
Ryder
That same night
My private jet’s engines rumble low, preparing to carry Adeline to London, but the plane hasn’t moved.
I sit in the backseat of the SUV with the window cracked, hands folded tightly in my lap, watching the sky start to pink at the edges. The tarmac lights blink steady in the fading dusk, and beyond them—nothing but the horizon swallowing what’s left of the day.
Autumn left without looking back, without a single shred of acknowledgment that everything she has now—everything she’s survived—was because of me.
And she thinks she’ll find better…
Somebody who won’t just promise to protect her—but actuallycan?
I clench my jaw at the thought.
There’s not a man alive who would take a bullet for her faster than I would. Who’d burn a city down before letting her die. Andyet she walked away like I was the danger, like I hadn’t bent every rule in my world to make space for her in it.
Brushing away the thought, I notice the engines are still idling. No movement.
What the hell is the holdup?
I shove the door open and step into the wind, striding toward the stairs just as the pilot descends in a rush, his face pale.
“What’s the problem?” I ask.
“Miss Rochester is a lot worse than usual, sir,” he says, a bit breathless. “She won’t calm down, and she won’t buckle in. I thought it was just nerves, but... you should see her.”
I look past him, up the stairway and toward the cabin window.
