“He’s missing class. He never misses a class,” I mumble to myself, trying for the life of me to sort out what I’m seeing.
“These last couple of days have been hard on everyone.” Her eyes stare thoughtfully at the back of his car. “He’s probably just taking a day to come to terms with everything.”
“I should just grab my car and go.” I can’t face him now. He’ll ask about Clifford, and I’ll have to tell him how he blew me off, claiming the baby wasn’t his and that I was trying to corner him into a commitment.
And then what? Will he offer to get back together? To raise this baby together? I press my palm to my lower belly. If he did, would I have the strength to say no?
“Come on. This is silly.” My mom swings open her door and slides out. “This is Killian we’re talking about. He’s your best friend, Axelle. He wants what is best for you. Stop acting like he’s the enemy here.”
I open my mouth to defend myself, but she shuts the door before I can. I watch in horror as she crosses to the stairs, and before I can think better of it, I’m bounding up the stairs behind her.
“Mom, wait! What if…?” I roll my lips between my teeth to keep from being heard because, damn, for a little woman, my mom is quick.
I’m out of breath by the time she reaches Killian’s door and knocks. My pulse rockets even higher with nerves, and I lean against the wall to keep from passing out.
Male voices come from behind the door, and butterflies burst behind my ribs as it swings open.
“Oh hey, Layla.”
I step to my mom’s side at the sound of Ryder’s voice.
He stares between us, confused. “What’s going on?”
I peek around his shoulder and see Theo with his hands in a box, staring back at me.
“Ryder, um…is Killian around?” My mom seems just as confused as I am because it seems like they’re moving Kill’s things.
“No, he’s in London.”
“What!” The word flies from my mouth with such force Ryder slices his gaze to mine.
“You didn’t know?”
Tears prick my eyes, but I hold them back. “No, I had no idea.” He didn’t tell me he was leaving so soon. I thought I had more time. He didn’t even say good-bye.
“When did he leave?” My mom presses in close as if to hold me up if my legs give out.
“Yesterday. I guess he changed his mind about the London gig, called my dad, and hopped on a plane with Rex first thing. He asked me to sell all his shit, but Dad said pack it up and store it. We’ll put his Jeep in storage too until he gets back.” He shrugs, but his eyes fix on mine.
I can’t imagine Killian told Ryder about my situation, but he saw us leave together Valentine’s night and probably assumed we’d be together. The fact that Kilian left without telling me makes it pretty obvious to everyone where things stand between us.
I clear my throat, eager to get out of here before I burst into tears. “I need to grab my things.” I push past Ry and see my bag in the same place I left it. My gaze slides to the bed, and my chest clenches to see it’s already been stripped and disassembled.
Pulling my bag up, I go to the bathroom and dump the contents of my drawer into the bag. I quickly glance in the shower and see his things are gone, another reminder that he truly has left to the other side of the world.
I pass by the bowl of change and see the keys to his Jeep and his phone. My heart stutters as I stare at the device. Ryder must be watching because he sidles up next to me. “Guess he forgot it. I told my dad I’d send it to him, but he said it’s just easier for him to pick up a new one over there.”
Reaching out, I grab it and hit the button that brings it to life.
The screen lights up to an image of our faces, a selfie we took in front of the Eiffel Tower at Paris on The Strip. It was during Christmas break and Vegas was having a cold snap, so I was dressed in a big coat with a fur collar, and Killian had on a hooded sweatshirt and a black beanie. Our cheeks and noses are flushed pink, and he’s smiling casually while I’m laughing hard at the story he’d just told me.
Did you know a woman once jumped off the real Eiffel Tower to commit suicide, landed on a guy’s car, and they ended up getting married?
I swore he made that up, but he insisted it was a true story.
His future wife fell from the sky right onto his car. They don’t call Paris the City of Love for nothing. People line up at the base of it now just waiting to get clobbered by their true love.
I laughed. He snapped the picture.
We posted it on Instagram, along with selfies of us on a gondola at The Venetian and in front of the Statue of Liberty at New York-New York with the hashtag #worldtravel. It was stupid, and no one actually believed we were traveling the world, but for two people who’d never even been on a plane, for just that night, it sort of felt like we were.
“You ready, Axelle?” My mom smiles sadly at me, most likely having been witness to me staring at Killian’s phone.