I walk aimlessly down the street, having no destination in mind. Where I want to be is sitting right next to Wren, so that I can tell her all the reasons why she shouldn’t take that pill. I start to list them off in my head.

1. I love her.

2. I’m pretty sure she loves me.

3. She’d make the best mother.

4. I think I’d make a pretty fucking great dad.

5. We have plenty of support from both our families.

6. We both have good jobs, although I could never compete with the kind of money she makes.

7. I would love her until the end of time.

But I can’t sway her decision with my own preference. It has to be her decision or I will feel, for the rest of my life, like I pushed an unwanted pregnancy on her.

In the back of my head, though, I just want to go back to her and tell her that I love her. I want to sit and hold her hand through all of this. I want to be her rock. With that in mind, I rush back to the bus.

Alex is watching TV on the big screen.

“Where is she?” I ask.

“I think she went to find you.”

“What for?”

He shrugs. “Not sure, but she was in a hurry.”

I walk to the back of the bus and see the open package. My heart stops. I pick it up and pull the trash from inside the now-empty box and my heart stops again. It fucking stops. I pound my chest to stop the ache.

She took the pill.

She took the pill.

She took the pill.

It’s over. She doesn’t feel the same way I do. We have different dreams and goals.

It’s over. She may as well have reached inside my chest and pulled my heart out with her bare hands. I love Wren, but I need to get away. I need distance so I can deal. She’s going to be okay, but I’m not sure I ever will be.

Her body. Her choice. And she’s made it clear that her choice isn’t me.

I start to pack my things up. Alex gives me a funny look as I pull my suitcase from under the bus and start to haphazardly throw things into it.

The door on the bus opens. “Mick!” Wren calls.

I don’t answer. I can’t. I can’t even look her in the face right now. I just can’t. “What?” I finally ask when she calls my name again.

She stops short when she sees the suitcase. “What are you doing?”

“Packing.”

“Why?”

I run a hand through my hair. “I think I’m going to the airport and am just going to fly back. I need to get back to work.”

“Did your work call you or something?”

“No, I just need to get back.”

“We can fly together,” she says. She bounces from foot to foot.

“Sure,” I say.

She glances toward the front of the bus, her mouth open to say something, but then she closes it, takes a breath and says, “I’ll pack my things.”

“Okay.” I zip my bag. I’m packed.

“Alex can make arrangements for the bus.”

“Okay.” I go to the front of the bus to wait. Alex goes out the door.

“Mick,” she calls out.

I turn back and lift my eyebrows at her.

“Did I do something wrong?” she asks quietly.

“No,” I say. And to be honest, she didn’t. She did what was right for her. It just wasn’t what was right for us. “Of course not.”

“Okay,” she says. She packs really quickly. We take a taxi to the airport and we get tickets. I pay for mine, and she pays for hers and Mel’s. Alex is staying with the bus. We sit in first class, because that’s how she rolls. She has to sign a few autographs for some of the staff, and even the pilot comes out to talk to her.

But through it all, we don’t speak. A few times, she opens her mouth to say something. I can see it hanging there in the air between us. But then she glances toward the seat in front of us where Mel is sitting and closes her mouth.

From the airport, I have the taxi go to her apartment first.

She gets out, and I get out with her. I feel like it’s my duty. “Do you want to come up?” she asks. She eyes my luggage, which I didn’t take out of the trunk. “Mick…” she says, her gaze troubled.

I run a hand through my hair and look everywhere but at her. “I had better not. I have to work tomorrow. Need to get some sleep.”

“You could sleep here.”

“I had better not.”

“Oh.” She scuffs the toe of her shoe on the sidewalk, and the doorman comes out to help with her bag. Mel goes inside with the doorman.

“Will you call me?” she asks. “Later?”

I walk up to her slowly and look into her eyes. “Thank you for going on this trip with me. You were so much help. The kids loved you. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“You’re welcome,” she says quietly.

“I love you,” I say, as I pull her against me. Her arms wrap around my waist and she holds me tight until I unwind her and pull back.

“Why do I feel like you’re telling me goodbye?” she asks.

I kiss her forehead, lingering there long enough to fill my nose with the scent of her shampoo.

Then I let her go and walk away. I have to. I see her swipe a tear from her cheek as I close the door of the taxi, and my heart breaks.

But it’s the right thing to do. It really is.

She took the fucking pill. She doesn’t want me the way that I want her.