“Mom . . .” Didi’s eyes welled. Was it possible that she had made a mistake by driving him away?
“You should have seen his face when he ran out of here.” Her mother’s lips quirked into a concerned frown. “I’ve never seen someone so broken and defeated. I honestly think Caleb’s feelings for you are real. The question is: Do you feel the same way?”
The hope in her voice brought Didi back to life like the green grass shooting up from the ground after a long drought ended by rain. “What day is it?”
They both glanced at the desk calendar beside her bed. A red mark circled one of the numbers. During one of their conversations, Caleb had casually mentioned when he would be leaving for his trip with Nathan. Didi had marked it as a way to remember when their fake relationship would be over. It was today.
“I want to go after him,” she said more to herself. Then she looked into her mother’s eyes. “I don’t want him to leave without knowing that I love him.”
Smiling, her mother took her hands. “I’ll drive you.”
“Really?” Didi’s entire face brightened.
She raised a finger and winked. “But not before you shower first.”
For the entire car ride to the airport, Didi imagined everything that would happen. Like in the movies, she would run out, search for the gate he was leaving from, and make a mad dash, catching him just as he was boarding. He would see her, drop his bags, and open his arms. She would fly into them and pepper his face with kisses. Then she would lean away and tell him she loved him and ask him to stay. His gaze would soften, showing her all the love he felt for her, and he’d say yes, that he would stay. They would kiss again, and the crowd would go wild. Clapping and cheering would drown out the thundering of their hearts.
Unfortunately for her, it wasn’t that cookie-cutter.
They got stuck in midday traffic halfway there.
When her mother finally stopped the car by the entrance, Didi couldn’t wait any longer. She made a mad dash. The doors barely had time to part when she ran through them. Airport security stopped her before she could go any farther. They’d probably seen her panic and reacted to it. They wouldn’t let her go, even after she’d explained that she was running after the guy she loved. From the skepticism on their faces, they must have heard that excuse countless times before.
“Please,” she pleaded, breathing hard from her sprint. Her body was still weak from being in bed for so long. “You have to at least let me check his flight schedule.”
They pointed at the large digital board to their right. Didi thanked them and jogged toward it. Her gaze frantically searched for his flight number, which she had gotten after giving Natasha a call to reschedule their posing appointment. There were so many flights arriving and departing and delayed and canceled that it took her forever to locate the one she was looking for.
In big bold letters, the board declared the flight DEPARTED.
It sure felt like someone had died.
Her heart sank like a concrete block thrown into the ocean. It didn’t matter how sorry she felt for pushing him away when she needed him most. It didn’t matter that she loved him. That she had fallen in love with him when he’d kissed her on the lakeshore. All of that was as useless as the countless paintings she had painted of their time together.
Strong hands pulled her into a tight embrace before she could drop to the floor. She buried her face in her mother’s chest as the first tears fell.
She was too late.
Caleb was gone.
Twenty-Six
BRINGING IN THE mail after coming home from her new job at the art store two weeks later, Didi kicked the front door closed with her heel. “Mom!” she called as she sifted through bills and junk mail. She headed straight to the kitchen, then stopped. “Are you actually cooking?”
“What?” Her mom waved a wooden spoon coated with sauce as she spoke, cheeky grin in place. “Can’t a mother do something nice for her daughter for a change?”
A genuine smile tugged on Didi’s lips. Ever since she had come home from the airport a mess, her mother had cut back on her work hours. She could be found at home more often. With Didi’s job at the art store, they would be able to make ends meet. Her boss even knew some gallery owners who might be interested in looking at her paintings. Everything seemed to be looking up in her life—except for one part.
She must have frowned, because her mother lowered the flame on the stove with a deft flick of her wrist and wrapped Didi in her arms in seconds. She sank into the hug.
“Thanks, Mom,” she said.
“For what?”
“For everything.”
“Oh, Didi. . . .” Her mother loved saying her name like a sigh. “You are the best thing that’s ever happened in my life. Always remember that.”