We walk back together, her hand in mine, the evening air cooler now. My head is already rehearsing what I’m going to say to Mya.
It was never fake for me. I should’ve told you. I should’ve protected you better. Stay.
I step into the house and call, “Mya?”
From down the hall, Amira appears. “She’s gone.”
I stop. “What?”
“She left,” Amira says, wincing. “She packed her stuff and left for the airport while you were with Bri. I tried to talk her down, but she was crying and said she needed to go before it got worse. I’m sorry.”
My stomach drops. “She left.”
Mom comes up behind us and places a hand on my arm. “Don’t worry about the party, sweetheart,” she says softly. “Go.”
From the dining room, Henson calls, “Man, what is it with us Millers ditching Mom’s parties to chase women?”
Amira glares at him. “Not the time.”
I flip him off over my shoulder. “Watch Brianna.”
“Of course.”
I’m already moving, grabbing my keys from the entry table, and shoving my phone in my pocket. On the way down the steps, I hit Mya’s name.
It rings. And rings, until it reaches her voicemail.
I call again. Voicemail.
I text instead.
Mya, wait. Please don’t fly out yet.
I gun the car down the gravel drive, headlights cutting through the dark, jaw clenched so hard it aches. I hit her name again. Nothing.
She’s running. And if I don’t catch her, I might actually lose her for good.
46
MYA
TWO MONTHS LATER
The office has mostly moved on, but I’m still stuck.
People stop talking when I walk into the kitchen. Someone on the marketing team sent me a “You’re so strong” DM I didn’t answer. And our new receptionist, bless her, pretends nothing happened and keeps telling me about the plane tickets to Cabo she’s pricing out.
I hate the pity. It feels like confirmation of the headlines.
I haven’t seen Worth since Nantucket either. He hasn’t been back to the office—at least not when I’m here. At first, I thought it was a coincidence.
One day, I caved and asked Henson if Worth was okay, and he said, casual as ever, “Yeah, he’s good. He’s just working remotely for a bit.”
Which is code for:he’s giving you space.
Which is also code for:he’s avoiding you.
That stings more than I want to admit.