Page 98 of Midnight Between Us
I nod.“I know.”
“It’s not about becoming someone new.It’s about finally becoming the guy you could’ve been if someone had loved you right the first time.”
I meet his gaze.“You think that’s possible?”
He shrugs.“I think anything’s possible if you want it more than the comfort of blaming the past.”
I glance back toward the house I’m leaving behind.The woman I didn’t stay for.The son I never met.
“I want it,” I say.“I just don’t know what to do with it yet.”
“You’ll figure it out.And if you don’t?Try again.”
I nod once, let the words settle in my chest like something resembling belief.
We drive the rest of the way to the airfield in silence.When we get there, he kills the engine but doesn’t get out.
“You come back when you’re ready,” he says.“Not when you feel guilty.Not when you think you’ve done enough.When you can stand in front of her without asking for anything.”
I grip the door handle.“Thanks.Will you guys be okay handling the Syndicate?”
Atlas shrugs again.“Don’t worry about it.We’ll be fine.”
I step out.The air hits, and before the wind can swallow me whole, I pause, looking back just once.
I left once because I thought I’d ruin her.
I’m leaving now to make sure I never do it again.
ChapterForty-Six
Simone
Spendingtime with my girls helped.A little.Enough to pretend I was okay, to smile when someone poured another margarita and asked if I was over it yet.It’s as if Heartbreak has a stopwatch.As if abandonment is something you can sleep off with the right number of throw pillows and tequila shots.
It’s not until after dinner that I’m sober and ready to come back to deal with the aftermath of him.He probably read all the letters by now.There wasn’t any heart-wrenching ones after the one where I gave birth to Lyndon.Everything else is just milestones and baby pictures.When the adoption was finalized, I stopped writing because I didn’t need his memory anymore.
I had had enough therapy to continue with different coping mechanisms.
When I step through the front door, the illusion shatters.Though the place is quiet, it’s not silent, exactly.More like it’s off.It’s eerie.It’s that sort of silence that coils low in your stomach.Like something pressed pause mid-thought and forgot to hit play again because of a tragedy.
Like a held breath.Like the universe is bracing for something.
It’s not that Keir makes a lot of noise.He doesn’t.He’s soft-footed, brooding, always drifting from room to room like he was waiting for something to happen.You can feel his presence even when he’s not near and right now ...I feel nothing.
Now it’s just ...air.
Not empty.Just still.Like the world hit pause.Like the seconds are waiting for me to catch up to something I haven’t seen yet.
My stomach twists because I know it.He’s gone.
I don’t know how I know it, but I do.The way someone knows when a door has closed behind them, even if they didn’t hear the latch.
And of course—of course—it hits me all at once: the agents weren’t here either.None of them.
Did something happen?
I fumble for my phone, fingers clumsy, breath stalling in my throat as I pace the living room.They’re always here.Subtle, but visible.One parked outside.One pretending to scroll through a tablet in the kitchen.One somehow making a black hoodie look menacing from the hallway.
