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“And you looked miserable doing it.”

I showed him her text. My unanswered question.

He read it, his face reflecting both relief and concern.

“What does it mean?” I asked.

“It means she’s as fucked up about this as you are.”

“That doesn’t help me.”

“It should.” He handed the phone back. “It means she’s still thinking about you.”

His phone buzzed. When he checked it, his face went carefully blank.

My stomach dropped. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“Your face looks weird.”

The bus hummed. Someone laughed up front.

“Ellie’s in Denver,” Crim said.

The word Denver hit me like a cross-check. Pure impact.

“Why?” My voice sounded like someone else’s.

“She had a job interview at Denver Sports Medicine Institute, and she just said it went very well.”

I couldn’t breathe. Job interview?

“She flew out yesterday morning, and she’ll be home tomorrow afternoon,” he said.

My vision tunneled, everything disappearing except the three words on his phone screen.

She was leaving me.

“She got the initial email Wednesday,” Crim said. “We talked about it.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“It wasn’t my place. It still isn’t.” He met my eyes. “But you need to know.”

“I destroyed the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“She hasn’t decided yet.”

Hope hurt worse than any puck to the face and was equally impossible to breathe through. “Why would she stay?”

“I don’t know.”

“I told her she was just doing her job.” The words tasted like acid. “I made her feel worthless.”

“Yes, you did.”

“Denver’s offering her everything I can’t.”