A part of me thinks it would be easier if he didn’t. If we just say our goodbyes here. But another part of me will do anything to spend as much time with Jude as possible.

With a heavy heart, I stand, inhaling his scent that still lingers in the bedroom. Then I force myself to leave. I have to.

“Let me get that for you,” he says as I descend the last few steps into the foyer, reaching for my suitcase.

The sight of him makes my chest squeeze, my heart aching. His dark hair is still damp from a shower, his facial hair neatly trimmed. But his eyes seem empty as they linger on me.

“You ready?” His voice is quieter than usual.

“Ready.”

Without another word, he heads to the front door and opens it. I hesitate, taking one last look around his townhouse, wondering if I’ll ever have this feeling again. This sense of comfort. Of peace.

Of home.

I follow him down the front porch and toward his truck, furrowing my brow when I see his mother strolling up the driveway toward us.

“Danielle… What are you doing here?”

“Just wanted to see you off.” She wraps her arms around me, squeezing me tight. “I’m going to miss having you around.”

I pinch my eyes shut, swallowing down the ever-present lump in my throat. I’ve come and gone from more places than I can remember. But leaving Sycamore Falls is becoming the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Not because of the town, but because of the people.

But I’m not sure I can stay here anymore, even if I weren’t taking this job.

“Just tell him,” she whispers, and I meet her green eyes, blinking repeatedly.

Does everyone know how I feel about Jude?

Grabbing my hand, she gives it one last squeeze before turning her attention to Jude, something unspoken passing between them.

The drive to the airport is mostly silent, the only sounds that of the hum of the tires on the road, the low murmur of the radio, and the occasional clearing of Jude’s throat. I watch the scenery blur past the window, the town I’ve come to love shrinking with every mile closer to the airport.

When Jude makes the turn onto the terminal road, my stomach twists and I steal a glance at him. He’s focused on driving, one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the gearshift, looking as calm and composed as ever. But I know himwell enough by now to recognize the tension in his jaw, the tight grip of his fingers.

I wonder if he feels it too — this pull between us, like we’re leaving something unfinished.

I know we are.

I thought I was content with my decision to keep my true feelings to myself, too afraid of his inevitable rejection to tell him. But now, as he parks his truck in the airport garage and turns off the engine, Parker’s words replay in my mind. How I may regret it for the rest of my life if I don’t take a risk, to hell with the consequences.

She’s right.

If I don’t say something now, Iwillregret it.

“Jude…” I begin, my heart racing as I peer into his eyes, trying to summon the courage I need to get through this.

“Abbey, please don’t,” he chokes out, his words laced with desperation. “Whatever you’re about to say, I am begging you not to.”

“But I have to,” I manage to say, his pleading expression making it nearly impossible for me to speak. “I can’t leave without being completely honest. So please. Let me say what I need to. Don’t I deserve that much?”

He stares at me for several long moments, his lips tight, as if he wants to tell me no. It won’t matter, though. This is something I need to do for me. I can’t leave any piece of me in this town.

“I’m not taking this job because it’s what I want.”

His eyes darken, his muscles coiled like a spring ready to snap. But he doesn’t interrupt. Instead, he waits for me to continue, his gaze fixed on mine.

“I’m taking it because I don’t know how to stay here…” I wipe away the tears forming in my eyes. “I don’t know how to stay in the same place as you with how I feel about you.