Page 139 of Beautiful Agony

The realization hits me like a punch to the gut. Of course Demyon can't leave—he's Vadim's right-hand man. And Megan can't turn down this opportunity, not after everything she's accomplished.

"Oh, Meg." I squeeze her hand tighter. "I'm so sorry. Maybe Vadim could let Demyon visit you?"

"Be realistic, Lace." Megan stares at her coffee. "How often could that really happen? Between what he needs to do here and my new job, we'd be lucky to see each other every few months. And that's assuming nothing goes wrong. I mean, what if I'm out in New York for years?"

"But if you care about each other?—"

"That's exactly why I have to end it." Her voice cracks slightly. "I can't ask him to put his life on hold for me. And I can't put mine on hold for him either."

I watch as she blinks back tears. "Have you told him yet?"

"No." She lets out a shaky breath. "How do you tell someone that even though you..." She trails off, unable to say the words. "How do you tell them goodbye?"

Through the window, I see Demyon still standing guard, occasionally glancing our way with that soft look he reservesonly for my sister. My heart aches knowing what's coming for them both.

"Maybe there's another way," I try, but Megan shakes her head.

"There isn't." She wipes quickly at her eyes. "Long distance never works. One person always ends up resenting the other. Better to end it now while we can still..." She swallows hard. "While we can still remember each other fondly."

I reach across the table and take both of Megan's hands in mine. "You don't have to pretend to be okay with this."

"I'm not pretending." But her voice catches. "I just... I need to focus on the positives. Like having my own apartment in Manhattan. Getting to cover stories that actually matter to me.”

“Living your dream," I remind her gently.

"Yeah." She tries to smile but it looks more like a grimace. "My dream."

Through the window, Demyon checks his phone again before his gaze inevitably drifts back to Megan.

"Tell me about the apartment," I say, trying to lighten the mood. "What neighborhood are you thinking?"

"Upper West Side, maybe?" She straightens up, clearly grateful for the distraction. "The Times is giving me a pretty good relocation package. And there's this cute little coffee shop I found that reminds me of Three Birds..."

But even as she talks about her plans—the museums she wants to visit, the stories she wants to write—her eyes keep turning to the window. To Demyon. Each time they do, her voice gets a little softer, her smile a little sadder.

"And Central Park is gorgeous in the fall," she continues, but her words sound hollow now. "All those trees turning red and gold..."

She trails off as Demyon shifts his weight outside, his broad shoulders tensing slightly as someone walks past. His protective instincts are so ingrained that even now, even here, his first thought is keeping her safe.

A single tear slides down Megan's cheek. She wipes it away quickly, but I catch it.

"Meg..."

"I'm fine," she insists, but her lower lip trembles. "Really. This is what I want. This is what I need to do. I just..." She takes a shaky breath. "I just wish things could be different."

"I'm going to miss you so much." My voice catches as I reach for Megan's hand again.

Megan's fingers tighten around mine. "Promise you'll visit?"

"Of course. And you better FaceTime me every day." I try to smile through the tears threatening to spill. "Who else is going to give me sisterly advice about?—"

A sharp pain cuts through my abdomen, stealing my breath. My hand flies to my belly as another wave hits, stronger this time.

"Lacey?" Megan's voice sounds distant through the rushing in my ears. "What's wrong?"

"I think..." I grip the edge of the table, knuckles going white as another contraction rips through me. "The baby's coming."

Megan's eyes go wide. "Now? But you're not due for another week!"

---