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Pushing up in bed, I stand and head to the bathroom, my eyes still sleepy. As I come back out, I spot a folded up piece of paper on the floor at my door. Arching a brow, I walk with wobbly steps, and pick it up.

It's folded, my name written on the top in scratchy letters. What is this? I think to myself, sitting back down on the bed. Running my finger across the folds, I'm already smiling.

It's from Mark. It has to be.

My parents would never do something like this. They have no problem telling me what they're thinking or feeling to my face, regardless of how insensitive or negative it might be.

My body begins to warm as I unfold the note. My stomach flips with excitement as I see his words on the paper.

Sia,

This isn't how I wanted to say goodbye, but I think it's the best for both of us. I can't let you ruin your life because of me. I'm not who your parents want for you, and I don't blame them. I'm just a simple man with nothing to offer you.

You have the world at your fingertips and I'm just a paper cut that stings your entire family. It's not fair for you to have to choose between what you have and what I'll never be.

I'm sorry I can't tell you this in person, but I know if I see you I might not be able to get the words out. You've risked enough these past few days, now it's time to go back to the lives we know. It was fun while it lasted, and I'll never forget it.

Just don't give up on doing the things you love.

—Mark

My stomach drops, and tears are streaming down my face before I read the last few words. I didn't expect this. I thought he had maybe written me a few sweet words, maybe he was going to apologize for falling asleep and have some sexy date planned for us today.

Instead I get a gut punch and a million feelings I don't know what to do with. I didn't ask for this. This is the exact opposite of what I want. I want more of him, not less.

It can't end like this.

I need a chance to talk to him. He needs to know how I really feel.

I pull my phone off the charger and find his name and call him. It rings only once, then goes to voicemail. Hitting redial, I call him again, but the same thing happens. Over and over.

Damn it!

I pace back and forth in my room, squeezing my phone and willing it to ring. I need to talk to him. I have to. I can't just let him go without telling him the truth. About how I've never smiled like I smile with him. About how my heart skips and my belly flutters when he's close. About how this time together has given me a new look on the world. He needs to know all of it.

The airport. . . I need to go to the airport.

Quickly I throw on some clothes and grab my purse. I’m running through the lobby within minutes of reading his note. Ignoring anyone and everything else around me, I dart to the edge of the sidewalk, and throw my arm out, flagging down a taxi.

“JFK Airport,” I snap eagerly. “And step on it, I don't have any time to waste.”

“You got it,” he says, checking the mirror and hitting the gas so hard I jerk in my seat.

My head bounces off the headrest, and my body rocks back and forth as he weaves in and out of traffic. I hold on tight to the handle above the door. Normally I'd be screaming to get out if any driver decided to swerve around like a maniac, but this is what I asked for.

Through the bobs and weaves of the taxi, I order a plane ticket just to make sure I can get right to the gate. I don't want to be stopped by security and held back. I can't let him leave before he hears what I have to say.

The cab is still rolling to a stop as I throw the door open and run into the airport. I'm frantic but trying to hold it together so I don't raise any eyebrows and get thrown out. I navigate quickly through security and I’m sprinting toward the gate.

The flight I think he's on is set to depart in thirty minutes. Time is running out. I can't waste one second just standing around. I feel liberated just being here. I'm going after something I want even though I know my parents will condemn me for it.

And I don't care.

I don't care what they think. I don't care what they want. Mark's given me the ability to push past the social construct that is my life and realize that my happiness is what matters.


Tags: Penny Wylder Big Men Big Hearts Erotic