Home > Books > The Do-Over (The Miles High Club #4)(207)

The Do-Over (The Miles High Club #4)(207)

Author:T.L. Swan

“You’ve got the Paris team in town next weekend for training, and then the week after that we have a conference in Germany. So you technically won’t have a day off at home for twenty-one days.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Fuck. Having someone depend on you is seriously a nightmare.”

“Buy her a puppy.” Jameson shrugs.

“Have a baby.” Tristan smiles into his drink. “Then she’ll be too exhausted to give a fuck if you are dead or alive . . . let alone where she lives.”

“Not a bad plan, actually.” I chuckle.

“Or if your dick has fallen off,” Jameson mutters dryly.

“True story,” Tristan agrees.

“Fuck that, then.”

Our lunch arrives, and we eat in silence for a while.

“What are you going to do?” Jameson asks.

I shrug. “Nothing. She’ll be okay, but if the sun would just come out for one minute, it would be very fucking helpful.”

My phone beeps with a text. It’s from Hans.

Hi Mr. Miles,

Not sure if I am overstepping.

I thought I would let you know that Hayden

has had a bad day.

I frown and text back.

What makes you say that?

A picture bounces back. It’s a photo of Hayden in a park. She’s sitting on the grass. Tears are running down her red face. She looks so lost and so forlorn.

So . . . unlike the happy Hayden that I fell in love with.

Her sadness seeps through the image, and I get a lump in my throat as I stare at it.

I stand. “I’ve got to go.”

“What’s wrong?” They both frown.

I hold my phone up and show them the photo, and their faces fall as they stare at it. “Fuck . . . ,” Tristan whispers. “That doesn’t look good.”

“You think?” I throw my napkin on the table in disgust. “Bye, I’ll call you later.”

I march out of the restaurant on a mission. I call Hans.

“Hello, Mr. Miles.”

“Where are you?”

HAYDEN

I sit and stare into space. The park bench is hard and cold and laden with impossible decisions.

I have this sinking feeling in my heart, but I don’t know how to stop it. Every day I get up determined to be happy.

By lunchtime I’m in tears . . . and I’m not a crying kind of girl.

I’ve never had a reason to cry before, and I’m not even sure I do now.

Everything about our love is crystal clear and yet, in so many ways, messy and complicated.

I messed up, and the stupid thing is, I knew it at the time, but I didn’t want to be the drama queen and cause a fight. But I should have. I should have fought harder to stand up for myself.

Looking back, Christopher should have come to London alone, let both of us get used to our surroundings before we jumped into the pressure cooker of living together in a big city.

It all happened so fast. Everything was just thrown at me, all or nothing from the very get-go.

Hindsight is a marvelous thing.

If only . . .

Christopher told me who he really was one minute before the car pulled up because he knew I wouldn’t cause a scene in front of the driver.