Chapter 5

The next morning at JFK felt like stepping into a different world. The air buzzed with possibility. Elaine met with Evan Mcknight' s HR representative, a cheerful woman named Sarah who handed her a packet of documents and a first-class ticket.

As she was waiting at the gate, her phone buzzed. It was a New York number. She ignored it. It buzzed again. And again. Finally, she answered, annoyed.

"Elaine!" It was Brett' s assistant, Chloe. Her voice was frantic. "Where are you?"

"I' m at the airport," Elaine said calmly.

There was a pause. "What? Brett doesn' t know. He thinks you' re just at a hotel, cooling off."

Elaine felt a strange sense of detachment. It was like watching a movie about someone else' s life.

"He' s on his way to the hospice right now," Chloe rushed on. "He' s bringing Kelsey' s favorite cheesecake. He wanted to surprise you, to show you he cares. He even postponed the big project launch."

The absurdity of it was staggering. A cheesecake. He thought a cheesecake could fix this.

"We' re not married, Chloe," Elaine said, her voice flat. "He doesn' t need to know where I am."

"He wants to be!" Chloe' s voice was pleading now. "He told me to book the city hall for tomorrow. He was going to propose."

Elaine just shook her head, a bitter smile on her lips. "It' s over, Chloe."

She was about to hang up when she heard a muffled sound on the other end, then Brett' s voice, sharp and confused. "What do you mean he' s in palliative care? That' s for... that' s for dying people."

Then, Chloe' s panicked voice, "Sir, she' s at the airport! She' s leaving for London right now!"

The line went dead.

The boarding call for her flight to London echoed through the terminal.

Elaine hung up and turned off her phone, tucking it into her bag. She stood up and joined the line, her carry-on suitcase rolling quietly behind her.

Sarah, the HR rep, smiled at her. "Ready for a new start?"

"More than ready," Elaine said.

They were about to hand their tickets to the gate agent when a commotion erupted behind them.

"ELAINE!"

The name was screamed, a raw, desperate sound that cut through the airport noise.

Elaine froze. She didn' t have to turn around to know who it was.

Brett came barreling through the crowd, shoving people aside. He was breathless, his hair a mess, his eyes wild with a panic she had never seen before. His assistant trailed behind him, trying to apologize to the angry travelers he left in his wake.

He skidded to a halt in front of her, grabbing her arm. His grip was painfully tight.

"You can' t leave," he panted, his chest heaving. "I just came from the hospice. They told me... they told me about Kelsey. Why didn' t you tell me it was that serious?"

The question was so unbelievably selfish, so perfectly Brett, that all she could feel was a profound, chilling emptiness.

She looked down at his hand on her arm, then back up at his desperate face.

"Tell you?" she repeated, her voice void of all emotion. "The last time Kelsey was lucid, he asked me a question, Brett."

He stared at her, waiting.

"He asked, 'Where' s Brett? Why hasn' t my big brother come to see me?' "

She paused, letting the words sink in.

"What was I supposed to tell him, Brett? That his big brother was too busy playing games with another woman to care if he lived or died?"

The color drained from his face. His hand fell from her arm as if it had been burned. He stumbled back, his mouth opening and closing, but no words came out.

He looked utterly destroyed.

For a moment, she thought he might collapse.

But before he could, two Port Authority police officers descended on him.

"Sir, are you Brett Vega?" one of them asked, his voice firm. "You' re under arrest for reckless driving and abandoning your vehicle in a fire lane."

Brett didn' t even seem to hear them. He just kept staring at Elaine, his eyes filled with a horror that had finally, too late, dawned.

The officers cuffed him and led him away.

Sarah, the HR rep, looked at Elaine with wide, sympathetic eyes. "Is that...?"

"My ex-boyfriend," Elaine said, the words tasting like freedom.

She turned away from the scene, handed her ticket to the gate agent, and walked down the jet bridge without looking back.