Just little moments. Certainly nothing that had lasted, because nothing ever did.
But this feeling, this moment, was different. Because it wasn’t related to merely being warm and safe and just surviving. It was about something more. It was about going to Wyoming, about being somewhere new. About finally finding the home she’d always dreamed of.
It was about being there with Xavier.
Happy. God, she was happy.
It wasn’t a feeling to be trusted and part of her was wary of it, reminding her that it couldn’t last and she shouldn’t believe it. But she decided she wasn’t going to listen to that part of herself. That was the part who believed every lie her grandmother had told her about herself, so screw it.
She wanted to listen to the part of herself she’d discovered with Xavier, and that part told her to accept the feeling for what it was, embrace it even. Because she deserved it.
She grinned to herself and stretched, enjoying the sensation of her bare skin against the cotton sheets. Then she opened her eyes and rolled over, putting her hand out for the man she knew just had to be lying beside her.
Except he wasn’t.
Mia frowned. He’d kept her up late the night before, reaching for her again and again, as if he couldn’t get enough of her, and she’d let him. It had been exciting. It had made her feel sensual and powerful, and she’d been unable to get enough of it herself.
Which made it irritating that he wasn’t here now.
Sitting up, she scanned the bedroom, but that was empty too.
Maybe he was making breakfast or something. Hopefully he was, since she was starting to get a little hungry.
Slipping out of bed, Mia grabbed his shirt that she’d been wearing the night before and wrapped it around her. The cotton was heavy, the thick, luxurious scent of his aftershave making her shiver in delicious anticipation.
Damn, where had he gone? She’d been hoping for another hour or so in bed.
Puzzled, Mia wandered down the hallway and out into the living area, but he wasn’t there either. There were no sounds coming from the kitchen, but she half turned to go check there anyway, just in case, when she caught sight of something sitting on the coffee table.
She frowned, going over to see what it was.
A pile of clothing. Familiar clothing. Jeans, panties, T-shirt, button-down shirt, overcoat. All neatly folded and stacked in a pile. On top of the pile was a blue beanie and a knife.
Jesus. These were her clothes.
Cold swept over her, washing away the happy feeling that had been glowing warmly in her chest.
Why were her clothes sitting there?
Beside the pile was a piece of paper, neatly folded, her name written across the front.
A bone-deep foreboding made her mouth go dry and all her muscles tense up.
She didn’t want to pick up the piece of paper. She didn’t want to read what was inside, because she had a horrible feeling she already knew what it was going to say.
See? Told you that you couldn’t trust it. Happiness never lasts . . .
No, that was ridiculous. She was being ridiculous. Xavier had told her he’d never not want her around, that she had a home with him, and he knew how important that was to her. He wouldn’t just send her away or whatever the hell her stupid brain was telling her. She trusted him.
Mia snatched up the piece of paper, unfolding it with shaking fingers. It was nothing. It was probably a note telling her that he was out getting more food and that he’d be back soon, and then they’d prepare for their trip to Wyoming. That’s all.
But it wasn’t.
Mia, I’ve changed my mind. I don’t think your home is with me after all. You have your own life to live, your own goals to achieve, and I can’t make you a part of mine.
Here are your clothes back. You can wear them or throw them in the trash, it’s up to you. This apartment is Dad’s, but everything in it is now yours and I’ve organized for you to stay here as long as you like. Those documents you wanted are ready—a courier will come by with them later today—and I’ve also organized for someone to help you find a place of your own. They should be in touch soon. Don’t worry about the money, that’s all taken care of.
I had an early flight to Wyoming, so I’m sorry I couldn’t stay to say good-bye. Guess I’m not so amazing after all.
All the best—
Mia didn’t bother reading the last part of the sentence. She dropped the paper like it had burned her and took a step back from the coffee table, her legs suddenly unsteady.
The room swam, her vision blurring.
She blinked hard, trying to clear it because it was annoying, but for some reason everything stayed blurry like an out-of-focus photo.
Her throat was hurting and the warm glowing sensation in her stomach was ebbing away, leaving behind a hollow emptiness that hurt, that made her eyes sore.