The lump in my throat hurts as I try to hold in my tears.
He kisses me softly. “I can’t ask you to be someone you’re not, Hayden. Because I know for certain that I can’t change who I am.”
Oh no.
“But I love you,” I whisper.
His eyes well with tears. “And I will always love you.”
He takes me into his arms and holds me tight, and the dam breaks, and I cry against his shoulder.
“But how . . . can two people be so in love and it not work out?” I sob.
“Because fairy tales aren’t real.”
I cry harder. “Don’t say that.”
“Deep down I always knew it.”
I pull out of his arms. “I don’t believe that.” I begin to get panicked. He really is saying goodbye. “No. I’ll stay. We’ll work it out. We can do this,” I splutter. “It will be okay.”
“No, Hayden. We won’t.” He stands. “Get your things. I’m taking you to the airport. You will not be unhappy for one more minute because of me. I made a promise to your father that I would look after you, and this is me doing that.”
“I don’t want to go,” I whisper.
“But you don’t want to stay.”
I sob out loud, and he walks from the room and two minutes later returns with my suitcase. “Come on.”
I screw up my face in tears. “But we love each other.”
“This is one of those cases where love isn’t enough.”
My heart constricts. Oh no.
“Get your things.” He wheels my suitcase to the door and walks out into the foyer. I walk around the apartment, sobbing, as I find my handbag and everything I want to take.
The worst part about it is, deep down I know that he’s right.
I have to leave, and he has to stay.
I take one last look around the beautiful apartment. It’s always felt so cold and unwelcoming to me . . . and now I know why.
It’s not my home.
I screw up my face and cry harder. I walk out the front door and get into the elevator.
Christopher is solemn and staring straight ahead. We ride down to the ground floor to the soft sounds of my sobs. He wheels my suitcase to the car and puts it into the trunk and gets in behind the wheel.
I cry all the way to the airport while he holds my hand in his lap, occasionally lifting it to kiss my fingertips.
We get to the airport, but instead of parking the car, he pulls into the drop-off parking bay. “You’re not coming in?” I whisper.
His eyes well with tears. “。 . . I can’t.”
“Baby . . .” I sob.
“Don’t.” He gets out of the car in a rush, and I know he needs this over with. He pops the trunk and gets my suitcase out.
We stare at each other. An ocean of heartbreak and sadness swims between us.
“I’ll call you when I get there?” I whisper.
“Don’t.”
I frown.
“This needs to be a clean break.”
Oh.
He takes me into his arms, and we stand on the street hugging, both in tears.
“I’ll always love you,” he whispers.
“I love you.” I cling to him tight.