Page 44 of The No Falling Rule
Diego
My heart sinks heavily in my chest.
I scratch the back of my head, trying to piece together everything we did yesterday—the laughter, the dancing, the way she looked at me like I was her whole world. It felt perfect.Wewere perfect.
So why did she leave?
That’s when I see it—a single note resting on topof the couch.
Diego,
I had the best time during a usually tough time for me and it was all because of you.
Unfortunately, I broke the one rule we promised not to break.
I fell for you.
I know you have to head to Chile for business, so I decided not to stay and make the last time I see you an awkward goodbye.
Thank you for an amazing week.
Mia
“What the actual fuck!” I roar into the silence of my empty suite, the sound echoing off the walls. I re-read her note again, the words blurring together.
How can Mia be so obtuse as not to see that I also broke that stupid rule too?
Without wasting another second, I call the front desk. ”Is Mia Martinez still checked in?”
The pause on the other end is short but feels like a knife twist.
“She checked out two hours ago, sir.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I hang up immediately and dial her number. Straight to voice mail.
“Shit.”
I try again, this time calling the bungalow, praying Carly answers.
“Hey, Carly. It’s Diego. Where did Mia go?” I ask hurriedly as I tug on shorts and a polo shirt.
“Good morning, Diego. Merry Christmas,” Carly says in a sugary tone that grates on my nerves. It takes everything in me not to lash out at her.
“Carly, I need to know where she is. Please.” I’m not above begging to find her.
“She left for the airport,” Carly says quietly. “I tried to convince her to stay for the last two days of our trip, but she said she couldn’t stay here anymore.”
“So she went to the airport?” I ask, pressing my fingers to the bridge of my nose, trying to come up with a plan to intercept her.
“Yeah, she found a flight to Raleigh. She’s boarding soon, I think.”
I hang up without saying thanks—something that might’ve made me feel guilty any other day, but not now. I’ll apologize later. Right now, I need to get to Mia.
Rushing to the elevator, I call the pilot to prepare the plane. Then I dial my secretary in Boston. After beggingher to contact the Santo Domingo airport, I give her one order: ground Mia’s plane. At any cost.
By the time I reach the car, adrenaline has fully taken over. I drive like a man possessed—like an F1 driver chasing poll position—barely noticing the scenery flashing by.
