The Stopover (The Miles High Club, #1)(113)

And weakness is something that I can’t afford to have.

Not now, not ever.

I stare up at her apartment for a long time, and then with a heavy heart, I turn and begin the depressing run home.

I’ve never been so alone.

Emily

I stare at the coffee in front of me; the thought of drinking it turns my stomach. It’s been four days since I got the dreaded four-word text from Jameson.

Move on, I have.

Four days is a long time to walk around with a broken heart . . . it’s weak and barely clinging to life. I keep hoping and praying that he’s going to come back with a grand gesture and hold his arms out, and I run into them, and this nightmare will all be forgotten.

If only that were true.

My mind is clouded with memories of the man I thought I knew. The hole in my life seems so large, and I just don’t understand how you can fall so hard in love with someone in such a short period of time.

I should have stayed with Robbie, because in hindsight, Robbie was safe.

There was never a chance of him hurting me this deeply . . . but then, I wouldn’t have met Jameson and found out what it was like to have this all-consuming love inside of me. No matter how it ended, I wouldn’t trade that feeling for anything. Even if it was only mine for just a little while.

The only thing keeping me going at the moment is Molly and Aaron. They’ve been wonderful. Cheering me on from the sidelines, reminding me of why I came to New York in the first place. It would be so easy to run home right now with my tail between my legs.

“Are you going to eat the rest of that?” Molly gestures to my half-eaten sandwich.

I crinkle up my nose. “No, do you want it?”

“Just forget you ever met him, Em.” Aaron sighs. “No man is worth this heartache.”

I force out a weak smile. “He’ll come back, Aaron. I know he will.”

“You know you keep saying that, Em, but where is the fucking asshole?” Molly replies.

“He’s just . . .” I shrug as I try to articulate my thoughts. “Lost at the moment.”

“No, what he is is a self-absorbed fucking asshole,” she huffs. “Good riddance, I say; you dodged a bullet.”

There is absolutely no love lost between Aaron and Molly as far as Jameson is concerned. “Maybe.” I sigh sadly.

“Come on; we have to get back.” Aaron stands. “Lunch break is over.”

We make our way back out onto the street and are walking toward the Miles Media building when Molly stops on the spot. “Fuck,” she whispers.

“What?”

“Look.”

We all glance up and see Jameson walking down toward us with a woman. He’s in his customary navy suit and looking all immaculate, and they are deep in conversation.

“He’s at work today?” I frown as I stare at him. I didn’t even know he came back to work yet. He hasn’t seen us and is talking as he walks. “Who’s the woman?” I ask. She looks familiar, but I can’t place her.

Molly grabs my arm with a sense of urgency. “Come on; let’s go this way.” She tries to pull me into a shop.

“Who’s the woman?” I repeat as they get closer.

“Claudia Mason.”

The air leaves my lungs . . . his ex.

He’s with his ex?

I begin to hear my heartbeat in my ears as the ground sways beneath me.

“Let’s go; we don’t want him to see us,” Molly urges as she grabs my arm once more. I pull out of her grip and stand strong.

As he gets to us, he glances up and sees me. His step falters, and then he clenches his jaw and doesn’t make eye contact.

Tears well in my eyes as I watch him walk past.

He stops with his back to me, and I hold my breath.

Turn around . . . turn around.

After a moment, he falls back into stride beside the woman and disappears up the street without looking back.

A searing pain lurches through my chest as I fight tears. I drop my head in sadness.

There’s my answer.

That’s it . . . we’re done.

It’s Friday night, and I slide down in the seat of my rental car as I peer across the darkened street. I’ve completely throw myself into solving the case, if not for any reason other than to distract me. I’m outside Hayden’s apartment, and I know that I’m probably clutching at straws by being here, but what else am I going to do?

Crying and staring at the wall is getting old. A text comes through on my phone, and I glance down and see the letter J.

I read the text and nearly drop the phone in shock.

One last stop over.

JFK Airport. Sat, 8pm.

JFK Clubhouse Bar.

I need to see you.

J

xxx

I sit up. What?

He needs to see me . . . he needs to see me?

Hope blooms in my chest. Oh my God. I immediately call Molly.

“Hello,” she answers.

“Jameson just texted me. He wants to meet tomorrow night!” I blurt out in a rush.

“What?” she snaps. “Did you tell him to go fuck himself?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because.” I try to think of a perfect explanation. “Maybe seeing Claudia snapped him out of this, and I want to see him too, Moll. This is what I’ve been wanting all along.”