“Flight attendants, prepare for landing.”
I’m doing this. I’m really doing this.
I’m going to be landing in London in a few minutes and I’m going to get my man.
After my talk with Nicole and Callum, I couldn’t stop thinking about what they said. I was choosing to let him go. He didn’t have the options, and as much as I didn’t think I did, I do.
So, I arranged for Parker and Ava to stay with Heather, and I’m here.
The plane lands I turn my phone on. Immediately, it starts pinging.
* * *
Ava: I can’t wait to hear what happens.
* * *
Ava: Did you land?
* * *
Ava: Were you too cheap to buy the wifi on the plane?
* * *
I roll my eyes and fire her back a message.
* * *
Me: I’m fine. Just landed. No reason to buy wifi when you’re going to sleep through it. I’m not cheap, I’m smart. You’re still sure about this? You really want to move?
* * *
She’s probably asleep but she was the one that packed my bag and practically threw me out the door. My kids were both very excited about moving to London. Ava wants a fresh start and Parker wants to have an accent like Milo.
I was sure they’d pitch a fit, but they didn’t.
So, I got on a plane.
* * *
Ava: I’m sure, Mom.
* * *
Me: Okay. I love you.
* * *
Ava: Whatever.
* * *
There’s my girl.
Another series of text messages come through.
* * *
Milo: I’ve called and gone straight to voicemail. Are you okay?
* * *
Milo: Where are you? I’ve been calling for two days. Please, I need to hear your voice.
* * *
Little does he know he’ll be seeing me soon.
* * *
Me: We’ll talk soon. I promise. Where are you now?
* * *
Milo: I’m at my house.
* * *
Thank God. I asked Callum to send me all the info on what to ask for and how to get to his house. My nerves are frayed, but the excitement is immense.
I grab my bag from the luggage carousel and get through immigration. Then as I exit the terminal I see a driver with my name.
“Hi, are you Ms. Danielle Bergen?” he asks in his British accent.
“I am, I didn’t know I had a car.”
He smiles. “I was Mr. Huxley’s personal driver, and he set up everything for you.”
“Thank you.”
“My pleasure. I’m William, by the way.”
“It’s nice to meet you, William.”
We walk to the car, and he sits me in the back. William informs me that it’ll take about forty-five minutes before we get there. I left Tampa at nine at night, and it’s ten in the morning. My body is totally off kilter.
William points out some historical buildings on the ride, tells me about London, but all I care about is seeing Milo.
* * *
Me: When are you going to see your mom?
* * *
Milo: In an hour or so. Can you stop teasing me and let me see your eyes?
* * *
Me: Pushy.
* * *
I smile because in about ten minutes, I plan to let him see much more than that.
Then he sends another text.
* * *
Milo: Why in the bloody hell are you awake, my love?
* * *
Shit. The time difference.
* * *
Me: Couldn’t sleep.
* * *
It’s not a lie. Right now, my nerves are on overdrive. It’s not like it’s been that long since we’ve seen each other, but the closer we get, the more my heart begins to race. There’s a chance he could reject me. Not that it’s likely, but still. Three weeks is enough time for things to change.
It hasn’t for me, but Milo has never really dealt with this. He’s been alone his entire adult life, and then we fell in love only to be split apart.
“Here we are, Miss.” William exits the car and my hands are trembling.
I step out of the car and look at the townhouse. It’s beautiful and I haven’t even stepped inside.
“This is the house?” I ask.
“Yes, ma’am, Mr. Huxley lives in the end house,” William explains.
Okay. I came all this way to tell him how I feel. To give him my heart and see if this is what he wants.
I make my way to the steps and then turn. “William, will you wait . . . just in case?”
He nods.
I have an exit strategy at least. If Milo isn’t ready for this step, then I’ll go home, cry myself to sleep, and move on. That’s the worst that can happen.
Another step closer and the door is right here. I just need to ring the bell.
I press the inconspicuous little button, my heart pounding against my chest.
The door opens, and it’s as if time stands still.
Milo is wearing a pair of black slacks, and no shirt. His hair is wet from a shower, and I can smell his clean scent.
“Danielle?” his deep voice is filled with confusion.
“I said I’d let you see me soon.” I smile, waiting for some kind of a reaction.
He steps closer, lifting his hand ever so slowly as if I’m an apparition and once we touch, I’ll disappear.
“Are you really here?”
I touch my fingers to his face. “I am.”
His lips lift, then his arm wraps around me and he pulls me to his body. Milo’s mouth is on mine a second later, and I feel the pressure in my chest release since his absence.
He lifts me into his arms and walks over the threshold. I smile and turn to William. “You don’t have to wait.
“Enjoy your time in London, Ms. Bergen.”
Milo chuckles. “Oh, she fucking will!”
He kicks the door shut with his foot and he reminds me just how good of a time we have together.
“How long are you here for?” Milo asks as we lie tangled in the sheets.
The last two hours have been great. We’ve been together, happy, and kept things light. Really, we’ve barely talked other than a few words here and there.
Now, I guess we should get to it.
I sit up, pulling my knees to my chest. “That’s up to you.”
“I’m not following you.”
I chew on my bottom lip, trying to think of how to say this without pretty much inserting myself in his life. Do I blurt it out? Do I work my way up? I’m not sure because Milo and I are still kind of new.
Fuck it. I’m here. I might as well figure my shit out.
“I quit my job,” I say and then wait.
“You what?”
“I no longer work at Dovetail in the United States.”
Milo runs his hand down his face. “Did you get another job?”
“Well, I was offered another position,” I explain.
I see the anger starting to fill his eyes. “My fucking brother fired you?”
“No,” I clarify. “Remember, I quit. Your brother didn’t do anything.”
He gets out of the bed and starts to walk around the room. “You’re defending that prick? Seriously? He sends my arse over here because his life is too bloody perfect to move here, and now you’re on his side?”
So, I’m doing really well here . . .
I need to stop beating around the bush, then.
“Please sit.”
“No, I will not sit down,” Milo bellows.
“Milo, I flew all the way here to have this discussion with you. I’m exhausted, missed you more than you’ll ever know, quit my job, called a realtor to list my house, and asked my kids if they’d like to move to England, so . . . sit the hell down.”
His eyes widen, and he stops moving. “You want to move here?”
“Not really, but it’s where you are.”
He grins. “You want to be here? With me?”
Is he listening to anything I’m saying?
“I want to be with you. If you’re in London, then that’s where I need to be. That is, if you want me to be.”
Milo sits beside me. His hands hold my face. “If I want you to be? Are you blind? I promised you that I’d be back because this is fucking torture. I want you beside me. No, that’s a lie. I need you beside me. All I think about is finding a bloody nurse to live with my mum so I can get on a plane.”
“Well, it’s torture for me too, and . . . there’s no reason I can’t live here. Each time I found an excuse, it could be negated.”
“You’re telling me you want to move here?”