“No!” She whipped around knocking the glass from his hand. Shoving his head towards his knees, she dug her fingers into his mouth and began ripping out pills as he coughed. Losing his balance, he tumbled forward onto the floor.

“What are you doing?” she yelled, straddling his body while shoving his head to the side to retrieve the rest of the pills before he could swallow.

He continued to cough around her fingers digging into his mouth as he grabbed her wrists.

Content with the large scattering of expelled pills all over the floor, she collapsed onto him, banging his chest with her fists. “Why? Why? Why? I don’t understand!”

His hands rested on her back as she continued to fist and claw at him. “I told you … it’s time.”

She sat up, tears racing down her red, blotchy face. “It was time to take one pill. One. Fucking. Pill!” She grabbed the sides of his head and leaned forward resting her forehead on his. “Look at me,” she whispered. “Please.”

AJ opened his eyes. “I can barely see you.” He closed them again. Down the side of his face a lone tear fell. His. Fucking. Tear.

*

That night he had another seizure and later vomited before falling to sleep. Jillian didn’t sleep at all. She packed their suitcases and sent a text off to Jackson.

Jillian: Be home tomorrow night.

Jackson: Alone?

Jillian: No.

Jackson: I’m fine. I don’t need you to rush home.

Jillian: I need you.

Jackson: Safe travels.

Then she called McGraw.

“It’s two o’clock in the morning. West. Fucking. Coast. I’m changing my number,” he grumbled.

“I need a private jet from Houston to Omaha tomorrow.”

“He died?”

She gritted her teeth and blinked back the tears. “No, but he’s losing his sight, and I’ll need assistance from the hotel to the airport. Please don’t act like you don’t know where I’m staying. I spotted your guys following me yesterday.”

“I have to keep an eye on you when you call me every other day asking for ridiculous favors.”

“I’m done asking after this.”

He laughed. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

She had no emotion left, not even enough to yell at him and tell him how much she hated him … how much he added to the ruination of her life.

“Text me the details when you get everything arranged.” Letting her head fall back into the wall of the hallway outside of the hotel room, she pressed End, wishing more than anything she could press that same button on her emotions … on her own life.

By eight o’clock her phone chimed with a text from McGraw, mapping out the times and details for their transfer back to Omaha.

“AJ?” She gently shook him, but it took her saying his name several more times and intense shaking to bring him out of sleep.

He peeled his eyes open.

She was afraid to ask, but she had to. “Can you see?”

He nodded once. “It comes and goes.” He blinked hard.

She sighed. “We’re leaving in an hour.”

“Where?”

“Home.”

AJ’s expression tensed. “Portland.”

“Omaha.”

“Why?”

Jillian laughed. It was all she could do at that point. “Because you tried to overdose on pain pills right in front of me last night.”

“So you’re punishing me.”

“Punishing you? Oh my God. It’s not a punishment. I’m not taking you back to your parents’ and dropping you on their door step with a Post-It note that says, ‘Blind and Suicidal.’ I just want to go back to Omaha with you.”

“It’s not going to change anything.”

“I know,” she whispered. “Let’s get you into the shower. Our ride will be here in less than an hour now.”

“Our ride?” he asked as she helped him get out of bed.

“Yes. My drug dealer has arranged transportation to the airport and private jet.”

“Priv—”

“And please don’t ask me anything else about it because I can assure you in the scope of things right now, it really doesn’t matter.”

*

Jillian helped AJ to the hotel lobby fifteen minutes before their ride was supposed to be there.

“Sit here. I’m going to have the concierge send someone back up for our bags. I’ll be right back.”

AJ eased into the leather chair next to the lobby fountain.

She removed the hairband from her wrist and twisted her tangled blond locks into a messy bun then slipped on her sunglass. Her eyes were bloodshot and swollen from too many tears and no sleep.

“Good morning. How may I help you?”

Jillian handed the concierge her room keys. “Room 349. Jillian Knight. Could you have someone bring our bags down to the lobby, please?”

“Absolutely, Miss Knight.”

“Thank you.”

She turned and nearly ran into the gentleman in line behind her.

“Pardon me.” He smiled with a nod and stepped around her as she looked down to retrieve her phone from her handbag.

“Jessica?”

For the first time in nearly a year … she felt her heart. It beat just feet from her. “Luke,” she breathed his name with the first true breath she’d taken in nearly a year. And when she looked up … she saw her heart.

He looked just like she remembered—perfect. Except, all the blood had drained from his face. He eased his hand toward her head. She needed to stop him, she needed to flee, she needed to do something, but she couldn’t. For a mere second in time she felt every cell in her body come to life.

Luke ever so slowly slid off her sunglasses. His mouth dropped open. He looked at a ghost. She stared at a mirage because out of the corner of her eye she saw several men in suits coming to take him away. The clock ticked no matter how much she wished to be frozen in time at that very moment. She’d dreamed of seeing him again since the day she last saw him at the cemetery. What do you say to the person who gave you everything?

Tick tock.

Two men grabbed his arms, but he still didn’t take his eyes off her.

Say something, her mind screamed.

“Luke … thank you.” A flicker of a smile touched her lips as they pulled him toward the large revolving door.

Once he was outside she could see him yell her name as if something inside him awoke and he began to fight back, but it was too late. Two seconds later they had him stuffed into the back of a black SUV speeding away from the curb.

McGraw’s men hadn’t been following her because of her requests. They knew Dr. Luke Jones and Jessica Day were going to be in the same city at the same time … and as if not even death could keep them apart … they ended up at the same hotel, the same concierge desk, and then for one last time they shared the same breath of air—the same heartbeat.

In that moment she died. There were no more breaths to take.

“Miss Knight, we have to go.” Two more suits pulled her toward the exit and another black SUV waiting at the curb.

“AJ—”

“Mr. Monaghan is already in the vehicle.”

Luke. He loved her—adored her—and then he mourned her. But no longer. He would hate her forever.

Before they opened the door to the SUV, Jillian fisted the jacket of one of the suits. “You tell McGraw I’ll bring him and everyone else involved to the gates of Hell if anything happens to Luke.”

The young man swallowed hard and nodded. “I-I’ll tell him.”

He opened the back door and Jillian climbed in.

“Jillian?” AJ slid his hand across the seat in search of her.

She just stared at it … stared at him.

AJ squeezed his eyes shut. “Where is she?” he yelled.

She grabbed his hand as the vehicle pulled away from the curb. “I’m here. I’m right here.” Her other hand splayed against her heart, slowly clawing into a fist as she looked out the window, falling apart in silence.

“Where did you go?” AJ squeezed her hand.

“The restroom.” Words struggled to move past the asphyxiating lump of emotions growing in her throat.