Boston, Massachusetts

When the phone rings, I lean over to grab it, sipping the last of my coffee from the dainty porcelain mug as I pick up the receiver and cradle it between my ear and shoulder. I'd found the insanely decadent breakfast spread laid out in the living room this morning when I'd wandered around looking for Griff.

Waking up to the cold sheets beside me hadn't been the wake-up call I was hoping for, but I was sure I'd find him in the shower. When he hadn't been anywhere in the suite, I'd assumed he'd gone for coffee. Then, when breakfast arrived sans Griff, I assumed he was in the gym.

Now, I was just waiting. I guess it's true when they say to assume only makes an ass out of 'u' and 'me'.

Fully expecting it to be Griff on the other end of the phone, I smile when I speak into the receiver, not bothering to check who's on the other end.

"Where did you rush off to this morning? I'm going to eat all your breakfast if you don't get back up here soon."

Silence greets me before someone clears their throat awkwardly.

"Excuse the interruption, ma'am. This is Sarah from reception. I'm just calling with a gentle reminder that check-out is in thirty minutes. Will you be needing any assistance with your things?"

"Oh, I see." But, in fact, I didn't see.

How could Griff have left without a word after last night? I quickly gather my scattered thoughts, though. "Sarah, did Griffin Donovan check out already, then? Do you know if he left any messages?"

"I'm sorry, we can't share specific guest details, ma'am. I'll check with the concierge, but I haven't received any messages to pass on yet. Could you please confirm your first and last name? I can double-check for you now."

"Annabelle Durand." I bite my lip in the short moments of silence as I wait for her response.

"I'm sorry, no message yet. However, Ms. Durand, you're listed on the reservations details, so I can tell you that Mr. Donovan is unlikely to return anytime soon. His original check-out date was adjusted to today only this morning. Was this perhaps a miscommunication? Would you care to extend the reservation?"

I can hear the awkward pity in her voice, but also a strange sort of encouragement. "Thank you. Actually, I think I would like to extend the reservation. Do you need me to come by reception?"

I pray she says no since I have no regular clothes to wear. I don't want to walk of shame my way through the lobby— not that I have anything about my behavior to be ashamed of. Well, maybe only that I was weak enough to think something would be different this time.

"Very well, ma'am. No, that won't be necessary. I've made the adjustment for you to check out tomorrow at noon. Would you like to make any changes to the information on file? Should I use the same credit card on file? The notes specify it's to pay for the room and any incidentals charged through." Her voice twinkles with suppressed humor, and I smile, despite myself.

A twinge of guilt tugs at me, but I shake it away. Serves him right for leaving me here without a word. "That sounds fine, Sarah. Thank you for your assistance. Before you go, could you put one more name on file? Amy Dawes, please. She'll be joining me tonight."

"Of course, consider it done. Would you like me to change the reservation details to your name?"

"No, that won't be necessary. The reservation can stay under Donovan, thank you."

"Very well. Enjoy the rest of your stay, ma'am."

Hanging up, I pull my knees to my chest, wondering how I could have been so stupid to believe anything Griff said last night. He's just a liar and an asshole, apparently.

Kicking at the tangled sheets and pillows tossed across the bed, I shove the breakfast tray onto the other side of the bed. It looks like I went to bed with a tornado. I immediately grab my phone to call Aims before the stupid thing dies.

She answers on the first ring.

"Don't ask questions; I'll explain everything later. How fast can you get to Fifteen Beacon in Boston? We have a suite booked tonight."

"What on earth have you gotten into? I can be there in a few hours." I love her beyond my ability to express that she doesn't question me further.

"Do me a favor, Aims? Can you please please please bring me some clothes and a phone charger? Nothing fancy, just underwear, some leggings and a sweater or something. Maybe some flats, or sneakers, too? I left your name at the front desk already, so they'll give you a key." I silently thank the universe that we're close enough to the same size to share clothes.

"Oh. My. God. You're already in the suite? Who did you go home with last night? Certainly not Rob if you're staying at the Beacon. He might like to talk a big game, but that's definitely out of his league."

"I'll tell you everything when you get here. I promise. But right now, I need to shower for about as long as it will take you to get here if I'm going to make a dent in the regret coating my body and soul."

Leaving a confused Aims on the other end of the phone, I hang up. I rush around the room, picking up the four condom wrappers littered across the floor, refusing to face the humiliation of housekeeping, knowing what happened as well. I toss them in the bin, then empty all the evidence from the night before into the one smaller bin in the bathroom, tying the white bag closed.

At least the shreds of my dignity are somewhat preserved.

I dial down to housekeeping, asking for someone to come up to freshen the room for Aims and me.

"We have a request to pack up Mr. Donovan's belongings, ma'am, is now a suitable time?"

"Of course, I'll be in the bathroom. Take what you need to. I have all my belongings with me. Please just leave fresh towels and toiletries on the table. Could you also please arrange for a toothbrush and some toothpaste for me?"

Satisfied, I grab a random white button-down shirt from the closet to wear in the absence of my own clothes. I shrug, reminding myself that it's not likely he'll miss one stupid shirt. I hang it on the back of the door and make sure I have everything before locking myself into the luxurious bathroom.

Satisfied that I won't be disturbed. I fill the bath to the brim, watching the bubbles rise and expand, then lower myself into the hot water. As I submerge my head, I fight the sting of tears, relying on the pressure of holding my breath to control my conflicting emotions. All I want is to soak the memories of last night away from my body—and my heart.

As I indulge in the prettily scented soaps, I try to keep my mind off the way I spent last night. How can I have let this happen again? How could I have been this stupid?

I dunk my head underwater once more, rinsing the thick conditioner from my tangled hair, and use my fingers to comb through it gently.

I hear the water-dampened shrill of the telephone from somewhere inside the suite, but I ignore it. All I want to do is stay in the warm water and soothe my aching heart. I don't want to talk to anyone other than Aims tonight. Plus, it's probably only reception calling to tell me there are still no messages for me.

Even as I try to push the memories away, flashes of him touching me, tasting me, loving me flip through my mind. I surface abruptly, trying to focus on anything else. I take a thick, plush washcloth and soak it. I concentrate on lathering more soap into the fabric to distract myself from those thoughts, those secret moments, those new and already painful memories.

But how can I think of anything else?

I haven't been able to feel anything with anyone else in all this time-- my body and heart just came alive in his arms last night. I wasn't ready to let go of those feelings or those memories yet— no matter how painful.

But now, with him gone again, what else can I do but let those tantalizingly perfect moments fade as well. It's all I can do to protect myself.

When I finish my bath a while later, I listen for any sounds of the housekeeping staff. Since all is quiet, I step out, wearing only Griff's shirt. I stare in disgust at my black dress on the floor by the bathroom door, as if it's to blame for this whole mess and not my own heart and poor judgment.

I flick through the closet, looking for the hairdryer, trying not to look at myself in the tall mirror in the tuxedo shirt that still smells like him. Still, it was better than the dress, I suppose, at least while I wait for Aims.

Drying my hair roughly, I pull it back into a long, intricate, and thick french braid, then dig through the basket of toiletries from housekeeping.

I send a small, mental 'thank you' down to the team when I find samples of luxury face creams, serums, and foundations of varying shades.

I quickly apply the essentials, leaving any thoughts of foundation and concealer for later. At least I won't look like something that crawled out of her ex-boyfriend's bed when Aims gets here.

Glancing at my watch, I realize I still have time to kill before Aims gets here, so I wander over to the window to look out over the city. The grey haze of clouds makes the town look subdued. Even the gold-domed State House seems dull in the gloom.

Sighing, I turn to look around the room, trying to decide what to do while I wait. As I turn, a small white card and folded note catch my attention on the desk, and I tug it out from under the edge of the hotel phone. It's a business card with Griff's contact information.

I pick up the small note, immediately unfolding the paper.

GONE TO MEET MY AGENT. BE BACK WHEN I CAN. I'LL TAKE CARE OF BREAKFAST. I'M NO WHERE NEAR DONE WITH YOU— SO STAY IN BED.

— G

The precise, heavy-handed note brings back memories of his terrible handwriting in high school. I guess he gave up trying to improve, opting to use block capital letters in an overly heavy hand instead.

Well, so much for that, I guess. It's been hours since he must have left this note. But the small part of me that my heart allows to hope begins to worry, wondering if something might have happened to him.

I bend the corner of the card a little between my thumb and forefinger, debating if I should throw it out or keep it.

What would be the point of keeping it, I think to myself. I can't be the one to reach out, not this time. It has to come from him because all I'll have left after this is whatever pride I can scrape up off the floor.

Even though I know it's stupid, I tuck both the card and note into my purse, then crawl back onto the bed. I immediately wish I hadn't called housekeeping, craving his scent for comfort and familiarity.

I let myself have one final moment of weakness where I hold the fabric of the shirt I'm buttoned into up to my nose, breathing deeply. I close my eyes, letting the scent of him wash over me.

What feels like moments later, a soft click from the door makes me jerk up from my sleepy state. "Bells?"

I roll off the bed and run to the entrance. I throw my arms around Amy, and she immediately drops everything to wrap her arms around me in return. As she pulls away, I blink back tears again, but also confusion. Why is it getting dark again? How long was I asleep?

I glance at my watch and realize I must have dozed off for several hours.

When Aims gets one look at my face, she steers me to the sofa, then raises her eyebrows appreciatively as she turns on the gas fireplace.

"Swanky suite. Don't move. I'm calling for room service."

"Order whatever you want. It's Griff's credit card on file."

Aims' jaw drops, but she doesn't say anything. It only makes me even more relieved I called her.

I listen absently as she picks up the phone, ordering two orders of french fries, a cheese and charcuterie plate, chocolate mousse, and sparkling water. My ears and spirits perk up when I overhear her order four bottles of red wine.

"Tell me everything." Her warm brown eyes hold no judgment in them, only understanding, so I take a deep breath.

I tell her every single detail from the night, even though some moments are a little hazy from the champagne, the wine, and well, just from him.

"It was just incredible, Aims. We had sex four times. I haven't been with anyone like that since him. I'm scared he's gone again for good, this time. I'm scared it will never be like that again. With anyone."

Even as I brag a little to Aims, it's a bitter taste in my mouth. Typically, we love to share all the dirty details, but tonight, the words taste like ash.

A foggy memory surfaces, or is it a dream? Griff had screwed me nearly senseless most of the night, his focus on fast, hard gratification— just like I'd wanted and needed in the moment. But this memory is softer, slower, more like how we used to make love when we truly loved each other.

I shake my head to clear it. No, it must have been a dream, or a memory from years long passed by, or a combination of both.

There's no way it was real; it just couldn't be. My heart swells painfully in my chest for a moment, and I wonder then, even if it was real, how could he have left after that. The dream, the memory— the whatever, it was so raw, so passionate, so...vulnerable. I can't see either of us putting ourselves in that position again with one another. And yet, the dream just won't fade.

Maybe it's my brain and heart at war. Jokes on you brain, you should have said something last night before we got into this mess—stupid heart.

Aims' voice pulls me out of my inner spiral. "You can't think like that. If you think he's gone again for good, then you have to hunt him down or decide to let him go and see yourself free. You can't hold onto the past forever, Bells. Even if it was beautiful, it was also terrible for you."

I know she's right. What else is there to say?

"Look, Bells. You know Rob wants more, why don't you try to give him a chance? When you're ready. He seems to genuinely be interested in settling down. He's interested in your interests, he's rooted here. Maybe this is really a sign that you and Griff just aren't meant to be. It does seem like a bit of a horrible karmic joke. Sorry, hun, I know that's harsh, but it's the truth.

Again, I know she's right. "How did a serial monogamist who's been with the same amazing guy become so smart when it comes to failed love?" I wave my hand in the air, signaling that it was a rhetorical question. "Aims, I don't want to talk about it anymore. All I want is to get drunk, eat junk food, watch a movie, and have a slumber party with my best friend."

She eyes me carefully, considering my words.

"If that's what you want right now, then okay. But I'm here for whatever comes next, too." She squeezes my hand once, then flicks on the TV, scrolling rapidly through the channels in search of the movie network.

"Wait! Go back, Aims!"

My startled cry makes her jump, and she flips back two channels, then turns the volume up.

A perky, blonde sports reporter is positioned next to Griff's half-screen picture in his Pat's jersey. "Officials announced today that the notorious Beast of Boston, Griffin Donovan, has been traded to the Broncos effective..."

The picture changes, showing him shaking hands with an older looking man live, in video, from this morning. A new jersey is stretched across his big, broad shoulders. I stare at the screen in shocked horror, sickness rising in my stomach. This is what he left for? This is what he chose for himself, again?

As I struggle to get a lungful of air, Aims clicks off the TV mid-sentence.

"That piece of shit, selfish bastard. I can't bel—"

"Stop, Aims. Please. I can't."

The knock on the door from room service pulls her attention away momentarily, and I take the time to center myself.

All I want to do is drink away his memory tonight and deal with the rest in the morning. So, when Aims pops the cork on the first bottle and pours us a glass? I drink mine down in three gulps, then hold it out for a refill.

"This is what comes next, Aims. For tonight, at any rate. You here for this?"

"I'm here for it all, honey. No matter what."

- - -

Sometimes, things just go from bad to worse. The universe sure does seem set against our lovers here.

I hope you're as excited as I am to see what's next for Griff and Annabelle. I'm debating one final chapter on this timeline now, but might already skip ahead to the next (and final) timeline. To be determined! I guess you'll see in the next update ;)

If you're enjoying the story, please let me know in the comments, or consider voting! Means the world to me to hear from everyone!

Xx Toria