Twenty
The first time I left New York for Texas, my stomach was full of dread. And nausea. And a city-sized ball of stress. I’d been being torn away from my beloved city, from the life I had carefully built from drive and ambition. This time was different.
I reached over and took Ty’s hand as the plane started down the runway.
He smiled. “Are you—”
“Don’t ask me if I’m sure,” I interrupted before he could finish his question. “I am.”
One side of his mouth kicked up to the side.
“What?” I asked.
The plane roared down the runway. Ty shook his head and leaned back into his seat. I leaned across him to look out the window, to say goodbye to my city.
Not forever, I knew. New York would only be a plane ride away—or two or seven, depending on the weather in the Midwest. But I was equal pa
