I can't get her back. No matter how hard I push the elevator button, it won't bring her back to me. After I stand there hammering the button like an idiot, I run toward the stairs. I take the stairs two at a time, hurling myself toward the lobby. It's far down, but adrenaline surges through my body, and I won't stop for anything.

When I burst into the lobby, everyone stares at me.

"Is she gone?" I ask no one in particular. They all blink at me. Nicole isn't in the lobby. Of course, she'd be gone.

I pull my phone out of my pocket and dial her number, a number I know by heart now. Her phone rings until it rolls over to voicemail. I hang up and dial again. The ringing rolls over to voice mail a second time. I lean one hand on my knee, trying to catch my breath. When I dial her number a third time, it goes straight to voicemail. She’s switched off her phone.

"Dammit!" I shout. Everyone looks at me again.

"You," I say, pointing at the doorman. "Why did you let Jessica up?"

The guy blinks at me. "I thought she was a friend. She’s been here so many time before."

He's right. She hadn’t come back to my place since I’d told her off. I hadn’t thought to tell the doorman that she wasn’t welcome here. He'd done nothing wrong.

I turn back to the elevator where an older lady just steps in. I step in with her. She glances at me. I refuse to talk to her or even look at her. I'm fuming. I'm so angry, I could break something. Angry and hurt.

The lady gets off at the fifth floor, and I ride the rest of the way alone. When the elevator door opens, Jessica is still standing in front of my door.

"Why the hell are you still here?" I ask.

"Tommy, don’t be like that," she says, reaching for me. I step out of reach.

"Don’t call me that!"

"You’re angry," she says.

"What gave it away?" I asks, my voice dripping with sarcasm. If she knew what was good for her at all, she'd leave me the hell alone.

I unlock my door. Nicole should be here with me, not Jessica. I step into the apartment and turn around, blocking Jessica who has started to follow me in.

"You're not welcome here," I say. "Not in my apartment, not in my life. I never want to see you again. If I do, I’ll have you arrested."

I don't know what my face looks like or how she interprets my voice. For the first time, she looks like she realizes I'm serious. I glare at her. Without another word, she turns around and walks to the elevator. I watch the doors close behind her, and she disappears out of my life. For good I hope.

Inside, I try Nicole’s phone one more time. It's in vain, of course. It's off, and she won't switch it on tonight. I need to talk to her, though. I need to explain everything Jessica said to her. Everything can be explained, except Elanda and the fact that I'm a prince. And my leaving. Fucking Jessica. Why the hell had she opened her stupid mouth? I know the answer to that. Revenge. Malice. Where had she found out? Very few people know that I'm leaving. I guess she was desperate enough to find out something like that.

Nicole’s face flashes before me. She looked so confused. Shocked. Hurt. I had never seen her cry, and I hat that I had been the cause of it. I can't take it anymore. I have to talk to her.

I grab my car keys and lock the apartment again. In no time, I'm back on the road, heading toward her apartment. I don't care if she doesn't want to see me, if she won't let me in. I want to shout out my apologies to her from the road if that’s what it takes.

I park in front of her building and press the buzzer by the door. I look up to where her windows are. They're dark. I press the buzzer again and again, hoping, praying that she'll answer.

She doesn't. When the door opens and someone comes out, I wait until the last moment and slip into the building. I run up the three flights of stairs and hammer on her door.

"Keep it down," a neighbor shouts. "She’s not here."

I had known it all along. The dark windows had been a dead giveaway. Nicole always left a bathroom light on when she was home.

I walk back down the stairs, taking them one by one. It's the slowest I've approached stairs all night. I push my hands into my hair. What the hell am I going to do now? I don't know any of her friends or her parents. I have no idea where she would've gone. I don't know where to start looking.

There's nothing left to do but to get back in my car and go home. I ride the elevator back up, unlock my door again, and lock it behind me. I walk to the living room and sit down on the couch. I drop my head into my hands.

Is this how it's going to end with her? Is this the way it's going to be? I hadn’t wanted this. None of it. Maybe I should've told her what was going on in my life. She deserves to know, after all. But this. I never wanted this.

I wanted to say goodbye, eventually. I wanted to tell her. I’d been dreading it, and I put it off. I hadn’t wanted to lose her until the very last minute.

Maybe this is for the best, though. This is one way to end things. Tying all the loose ends, right? She would've been upset with me, anyway. She wouldn’t have understood. No matter what I did, whether it had all come out like now, or if I’d made up some other reason, it would've ended in heartache for the both of us.

Maybe it's best that I leave it here.

I strip off my clothes, leaving them in a trail to the bedroom and switching off lights as I go along. I crawl under the covers naked and put a pillow over my head. I want it all to go away.

By the end of the weekend, it'll all be over. My life here will be wrapped up as if it never happened, and I'll leave the country, escaping back to a place where the heartache and my past don't exist.

This is it. It's for the best.

It's over.