Sentimental Chances

Chapter 45: Time To Speak Up

My phone buzzed on the nightstand behind me, startling me enough that I almost dropped the curtain. I grabbed it quickly, my heart doing this weird lurching thing in my chest.

A message from Roy lit up my screen.

Hey. Morning. Are you up?

I stared at the words for a second longer than necessary, like my brain needed extra time to process three very simple sentences. I could almost hear his voice in my head—sleepy, a little hoarse, trying to sound normal about a day that was anything but.

Yeah, I typed back. I'm up.

I hesitated, watching the blinking cursor. My fingers hovered over the keyboard, cycling through a bunch of things I wanted to say and deleting all of them in my head before they ever made it to the screen.

Finally, I added:

Do you need anything?

It was safe. Neutral. Boring. Exactly the opposite of how I felt.

Three dots appeared at the bottom of the chat window.

Just breakfast, came his reply. Roldan said he'll be ready to go in about an hour. You okay?

That last part made something twist inside me.

I swallowed hard and typed back, even though I wasn't sure it was entirely true.

Yeah. I'm okay. I'll see you downstairs.

I hit send before I could backspace it into something more honest.

Then I set the phone down and headed into the bathroom, catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror on the way. My hair was a mess, my eyes puffy, and there was this faint, tired shadow under them that made me look like I hadn't slept in a week.

"Cute," I muttered to my reflection. "Great look for a dramatic farewell."

I let out a half-laugh, half-sigh and turned on the tap. I splashed cool water over my face, trying to wash away the heaviness clinging to me. When I straightened again, I paused and glanced down.

My hand found its way back to my stomach, almost on autopilot.

"We'll be okay," I whispered again, meeting my own eyes in the mirror this time. "We just have to get through breakfast. Then the drive. Then the station."

I didn't say the rest out loud.

Then we have to let him go.

The thought sat there between us—me and my reflection—heavy and stubborn as a storm cloud that refused to move.

Still, I picked up my toothbrush and got ready anyway.

Whether I was ready or not, today had already started.

When I got downstairs for breakfast, I headed straight for the dining area. For the first time since we met, Roy was already there, hunched over his phone and eating like he'd been up for hours. I guessed he'd skipped his usual morning jog, which made everything feel even more off.

"Morning," he said without looking up right away.

"Morning," I replied. I grabbed a plate from the buffet and started piling on bacon and scrambled eggs like I was stress eating. The thing was, I didn't feel stressed exactly—I just felt... full of something I couldn't name. "Oh, I'm starving."

"Same. I have to eat a big breakfast because I've got a long journey ahead," he said, finally meeting my eyes for a second.

"Well, try eating for..." I cut myself off before I could finish. I'd almost said I had a bun in the oven. Maybe it was the whole pregnant-brain thing messing with my filter. "For three layover flights," I corrected, forcing a small laugh.