Page 143 of When Hearts Collide

And I think you do too.

Spread your wings and fly, Ryland. Go chase your freedom. May my love be with you always.

Love, Millie

My fingers tremble as I set down the pen and climb out of bed. I walk to my desk and open my drawer to retrieve the packets of letters I’ve accumulated in the last two years—words sincerely written to my mom and him. I place this letter on top of the stack, take out a large envelope, and carefully place the stack inside.

Flicking on my phone on my desk, I swipe at the screen until I reach Grace’s name, and I press call.

“Millie? How are you?” her sweet voice comes across the line seconds later.

My fingers graze the envelope, my heart pounding in a nervous rhythm because it knows pieces of it are stowed carefully inside this unassuming package.

“I’m fine, Grace. But can you do me a favor?”

Chapter 52

Matt

Ms. Callahan is doing well this week. Nothing unusual to note. The paparazzi calmed down after she gave an exclusive interview with CBC.

I stare at the weekly update Matt Barnes provides me as part of his security surveillance of Millie to ensure she’s safe. He also attached a link of Millie’s interview with Maggie. This set up has all the markings of Lana’s handiwork on it.

Jitters flow through my veins and I press play.

“Thank you for being here today, Millie. Do you mind if I call you Millie?” Maggie asked, her hands curled around a ceramic cup.

“No, I don’t mind,” Millie responded.

Her blue eyes snared me through the screen, her luscious locks curled and arranged over one shoulder. Her hands were on top of the table, her fingers twisting and pulling at each other.

She was nervous, but from the way she sat with her shoulders straight, she tried to appear brave. She also looked tired, like she hadn’t slept well in ages. Her smile didn’t reach her eyes.

A sharp stab of guilt scores through my insides and Maxwell’s words hurl themselves against my consciousness.

I left her to deal with this alone. I did this to her.

What the fuck was I thinking? How could I have been so stupid?

I thought I was doing right by her by staying away, but in retrospect, the right choice shouldn’t leave everyone feeling miserable.

I should’ve felt relief and not this constant pressure on my chest, this relentless yearning for her which has only grown in time. In the last few weeks, I realized my desire to teach, to escape my prison, all faded to the background compared to my need for her.

She’s my other half, and I threw her away because I didn’t trust her enough to respect her decisions. I didn’t respect her enough to work through our problems together.

I didn’t fight for us.

My hands clench into fists as regret flows through my veins. Fuck, I don’t deserve her. Maxwell was right.

Be a fucking man.

I’m going to get back up and win her back. I don’t know how I’m going to do it yet, but if she is brave enough to face the world with her head held high, then I’m strong enough to do the same and ask for her forgiveness.

And if she refuses, then that’s what I deserve.

A loud whirring noise disrupts the quiet of the cabin. The unmistakable sound of a helicopter. After a few minutes, the ruckus abruptly cuts off.

Knock. Knock.

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