Page 163 of The Ampersand Effect

“Tobin,” she started, the surety of her voice surprising her, “open your eyes and look at me.”

Tobin shook her head, resisting the vulnerability of the moment.

“You donotget to break up with me with your eyes closed.” Her voice sharpened with conviction. “Open them. Look me in the eyes,

Tobin. Tell me you don’t love me.”

It was a bluff. The last residue of her depleted hope giving her the strength for this confrontation. She wore her heart on her sleeve. But it was the only hand she could play.

Tobin opened her eyes.

Grier didn’t need her to speak—her eyes answered for both of them.

All it took was a look. All it lasted was a single, perfect heartbeat.

All they had was each other. And that was all they needed.

Now it was Grier’s turn to hold Tobin.

She didn’t give her the chance to resist. She closed the distance between their bodies and pulled Tobin down and into her arms.

“Scratch that,” she murmured. “You don’t get to break up with me. Full stop.”

Twenty-Nine

Tobin watched the moss-covered terrain of Iceland emerge beneath the clouds as her plane descended into Reykjavík. She’d spent the last six hours—like the last four months of her life—failing miserably to distract herself from thoughts of Grier.

She sighed loudly, disturbing the kind elderly woman seated beside her. The woman glanced over, torn between offering comfort or scolding her in the way only a sage grandmother could. The look made Tobin miss LoLo. She could really use some of LoLo’s comfort cooking right now—and probably a bit of her tough-love, swift-kick- in-the-pants kind of pep talk.

Tobin understood she’d been weak. She understood that when Grier needed her most, she’d balked and tried to run.

So, she’d spent the entirety of her flight oscillating between berating herself for her cowardice and devising a plan to never let it happen again.

The plan was simple. Be present. Be vulnerable. Be hers—in whatever capacity she required.

Tobin had almost walked away from the best thing in her life. She wasn’t going to do that again.

They’d slept fitfully in each other’s arms last night. The need to be close—to envelope each other in skin and heat and presence—had been overwhelming. When sleep finally captured them, they dozed restlessly, a tangle of arms and legs. The woke only when Tobin’s alarm sounded, signaling it was time for her to leave.

Tobin hated leaving Grier—now more than ever. And she hated it even more knowing what the next week would hold. She accepted that her presence wouldn’t necessarily make anything easier. But her absence would carry its own weight.

They’d talked about canceling her trip—she’d genuinely wanted to stay. But Grier wouldn’t hear of it.

So, she left. Temporarily. Because now, more than ever, she knew she would never leave Grier. She would always find her way back to her.

She pulled her carry-on from the overhead bin and joined the train of passengers exiting the plane. Moving in a daze, half asleep, she fought to stay upright. She needed sleep. She just hoped that Njáll and his family would understand if she bowed out early tonight. But she had hours to get through before then.

Njáll was waiting for her just past Customs. He enveloped her in a giant hug, and she sagged into it. He didn’t ask—didn’t press. But his smile said he knew something was wrong.

They’d shared much of their private lives with each other during their trainings—each knew the other would talk when they were ready.

She used the silence to send a quick text to Grier, letting her know she had landed safely and had been collected by Njáll. It was close to three in the morning back home, and Tobin had made Grier promise to silence her phone and get some real sleep while Tobin was in the air.

But Grier had made her counter-promise:Text me as soon as you find Njáll. And we’re FaceTiming the minute it’s a decent hour.

It wasn’t a difficult promise to make—or keep. Tobin would be eager to see Grier’s face, even if it only made her more homesick.

Their first stop was tradition: coffee and a pastry from theLaugavegurdistrict. They grabbed their coffee and traditional Icelandickleinafrom the counter and stepped out into the cool late summer air. The breeze off the ocean, and the scent