Page 106 of Rule 1: Never Accidentally Marry Your Teammate

I want to leave.

And so I do.

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

Finn

He’s gone.

Like an idiot, I don’t realize at once.

I wake up, and the light drifts in from the blinds, and I don’t think anything about the fact that Noah isn’t beside me.

I think he’s making breakfast, and I let my mind wander to last night. We had sex. Actual sex.

But at some point I realize I don’t hear the blender whirr, and I don’t hear footsteps as Noah dances in the kitchen, AirPods in, thinking he’s being quiet, when he’s only sort of being quiet.

I slip out of bed, noticing the chill in the air, and telling myself it’s because we’re closer to the end of the year, and not because of a gloomy foreboding. I mean, I’m not in some Alfred Hitchcock thriller, where bad things always come with drafty windows. Besides, my windows are amazing.

But I don’t hear any shuffling in the kitchen, and when I enter it, there is no assortment of chopped up vegetables on my counters.

There is nothing.

Everything is immaculate.

And empty.

He probably went out to get something. It’s absolutely fine.

Maybe Noah has never left the apartment in the morning before, but it’s not like he can’t do that.

But something about this feels different. Uneasiness shoots through my cells, and my stomach tangles, forming a larger and larger knot.

My heart swerves, and I hurry through the apartment, flinging open doors of the bedrooms until I grab my phone. I put it off airplane mode, my fingers shaking.

I wait for the internet to turn on, for the messages to come.

There’s only one I’m interested in.

And there it is: a text from Noah.

Noah: Don’t worry, I’m moving out. Thank you for everything.

And there it is. A fucking goodbye text.

Why? The word roars through my mind, but half a second later I understand, when I read all the other texts that I’ve received from my agent.

Someone leaked I was looking for an annulment. God, I’d forgotten about that.

Does Noah think that means I don’t care about him? I scramble to call him. I need him to understand.

I smile.

This is fine.I’ll tell him, and he’ll come back, and everything will be normal.

But he doesn’t answer the phone.

I collapse onto the bed, hot rage pummeling my veins. This isn’t how things were supposed to happen.