Her heart leaped into her throat, and she threw the door open. “I’m so sorr—” The word caught in her throat. Not Kristen. Charles gave her a worried look. “I’m sorry to barge back, but I can’t get a flight out until morning.” He couldn’t get a flight out until morning, so he’d what? Stopped by because he had nothing better to do? How romantic. He took a step toward her and she stepped back. The urge to step closer to him, to take comfort in his arms, was overwhelming. This had to end. Now. Part of her wanted to give it a shot, throw caution to the wind. But her doubts had grown with him not around to cloud her judgment. What were the chances of things working for them, long-term? Shitty, probably. And having her sister ripped from her life had reminded her just how much losing someone could hurt. And they always left. Her father’s abandonment had been out of her control—out of her sister’s and her mother’s, too.
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