I ran after her but she was gone. She mustn’t have waited for the elevator.

She had decided to run down thirteen flights of stairs, instead. She really didn’t want me to follow her. I leaned against the wall near the elevator, trying to think. What should I do? I could pursue her, but the timing was all wrong. I really did have to catch that flight to Sydney; a car was due to pick me up in half an hour, to take me to the airport. Not only that, but I was travelling with some other work colleagues, Bryce included. I simply couldn’t get out of it.

I walked slowly back to my office. Paper and stationery were strewn on the floor; I really hadn’t cared, when I had wiped the desk clean, so that I could make love to her on it.

I still tingled at the thought. It had been amazing. Amber was so sexy. I wondered how I had managed to keep my hands off her these past few weeks. We had a sexual connection that was real.

But she wanted more. Was I capable of giving it to her? Or was I a broken, cynical man, destined to spend the rest of my life having affairs, but never committing to anyone? My life a shrine to my dead wife.

Erin wouldn’t want that. She would want me to find love, again. I would get this trip out of the way, then I would sit down with Amber.

I didn’t want to lose her. I knew that.

* * *

It was dark when the car pulled up at the house in Toorak, the next night.

It had been a whirlwind business trip; a dinner with some potential investors, then the day spent negotiating. Meetings all over Sydney. I was beat, but I knew that I had to find the energy to talk to Amber. I had to lay my cards on the table, with her.

I walked into the house. All the lights were off. I flicked some on, frowning. It was only eight thirty at night. Amber would usually be awake, although Lilah would be in bed.

Lilah. I should go and see her, give her a kiss. It was my habit. I was rarely home in time to say goodnight to her, but I always gave her a goodnight kiss while she slept. I opened her bedroom door. The night light wasn’t on. And there was no Lilah in her bed.

I felt a wave of panic wash over me. Had she become ill, and Amber had taken her to the hospital? Why wasn’t she in bed? I ran through the house, checking my phone as I went. No, there weren’t any missed calls or texts from Amber.

I knocked quickly on Amber’s bedroom door, then opened it. She wasn’t here. The bedroom was neat, the bed still made. I walked quickly around it. Then I opened her wardrobe, a sixth sense telling me what to expect.

All her clothes were gone. And so was her suitcase. I ran back through the house, running from room to room as if the answer might suddenly emerge.

And there it was. An envelope, propped up on a vase on the kitchen table. It had my name on it. I ripped it open, scanning it quickly.

Dear Finn,

I’m sorry, but I can’t do this anymore.

I know that we signed a contract. I’m willing to lose the sum that you promised me. It’s just become so difficult. I can’t pretend that there is nothing going on between us anymore, and I can’t be a sexual diversion for you while you work out what is going on in your life.

Lilah is safe. I brought her to your parents, saying that I had a family emergency.

I’m returning to the States. My flight leaves tonight. I need to go home, and think through what I want to do with my life.

Again, I’m sorry. But it’s the way it must be.

Amber.

I crumpled the note in my hand. Jesus, what was she doing? I didn’t think. I grabbed my keys, running back through the house.

She hadn’t said when her flight was leaving. It would take me roughly half an hour to get to the airport. It was kind of surreal; I had only just come from there.

I didn’t think as I drove. I just knew that I had to get to her. Before it was too late.

* * *

I manoeuvred the car into the short-term parking bay, running to get to Departures. I scanned the flights board. There were two flights, leaving for the States that night. One was bound for New York. The other was San Francisco. That would be the one she would be getting on.

I had time, the gates hadn’t closed, yet. But it would be dependent on whether she had gone through Customs already, or if she was still checking in. I got the name of the airline, running to the check in kiosks.

There were people milling around everywhere, of course. My heart was in my mouth as I scanned the crowd. Was it too late? Had she already gone through Customs?

And then, I saw her.

She was wearing an old pair of jeans and a yellow sweater, her chestnut hair in a high pony tail. She was sitting in a chair, staring at the ground. I could see her boarding pass in her hand.

My heart leapt. There she was.