question she was about to ask and the answer he had to give and fear knotted in his gut.
“Do you still love her?”
The question pierced him. He couldn’t lie, not about this. “Yes.”
“Then there’s nothing more to say.”
He stepped toward her, reached out a hand on her arm. “Please, Phoebe, one day, then if you still want to go, I won’t stop you.”
She shook off his hand. “I can’t. I can’t risk it. What happens when you realize that I’m not her? Because you will. Then where will I be?” She l icked her lips. “I’ve spoken to my editor. I’ve told him you’re clean, that there’s no story here. I’m flying back to Afghanistan the day after tomorrow. I need to get some things sorted, so…” She shrugged. “Good-bye, Cade.”
Chapter Seven
Day Five
Phoe be bolted upright in the hard plastic chair. She searched frantically around her. She was in the departure lounge at Heathrow airport. Everything appeared normal—no one had screamed her name. It was just a dream.
She must have dozed off—it would be the fir st time she had slept since she’d left Cade. Rubbing her gritty eyes, she glanced at her watch. Not long now and she would be boarding. At the thought, the grief she had been holding at bay rose up inside her, engulfing her, squeezing her heart in a vise-l ike grip.
She closed her eyes and she was back in her dream.
This time when she opened her mouth, it was Cade’s name she cried out. It was Cade who was torn from her arms, and her soul ripped from her body because he was gone.
She blinked, and she was back in the airport, but it had seemed so real, and in that moment, she knew there was no point in running. It was already too late.
Go back.
The words whispered through her tortured mind.
The feeling was so familiar; the same pain had haunted her all her life. Except this was different. In her dream, she’d had no choice—she’d been bound to a stake, and unable to go to the one she loved. Now there was nothing binding her except her own fear. But what was the point in running away if she carried the pain within her? What was the point in denying her love? It didn’t diminish that love in any way.
And she did love him.
Maybe he had only come after her because she looked like his wife. That didn’ t mean that was all he saw. She would make him see her . Make him love her . And if she failed, she could hardly feel worse than she did now.
Her cell phone rang. Her heart leapt. Was it Cade? She fumbled as she pulled the phone from her bag. But the caller ID showed her sister and disappointment washed over her.
“Susie?”
“It’s Dad, Phoebe—he’s had a heart attack—they’ve taken him to hospital. He’s asking for you.”
Susie wouldn’t give her the details over the phone, just told her to come. Phoebe raced out of the airport and got a taxi to the hospital. She sat in the back, gnawing on her lower lip, silently urging the driver to go faster. She’d messed up her whole life with her cowardice. If her father died before she got there, before she told him she loved hi m, she would never forgive herself.
Susie met her at the door and led her to a private room. “He’s going to be fine. He’s sleepy now, but he won’t settle until he’s seen you.”
Some of the tension drained from her. Phoebe crossed the room to where her fathe r lay on the hospital bed. He appeared frail, but he turned his head and smiled as she came to a halt beside him.
She gripped his hand. “I love you.”
And she knew the words were true. She’s always loved him. She’d believed herself incapable of love but it had been there all the time. Fear couldn’t stop you from loving; it could only stop you admitting that love to yourself and to the people in your life.
“I know. I’ve always known.”
She held his hand until his grip loosened and then she sat beside him, watc hing him sleep. Closing her eyes, she whispered a silent prayer of thanks. And
James Patterson and Maxine Paetro