DYLAN
The moment the plane touched down in Quebec, I already hated being here. I've been gone for less than a day and miss her. The way she looks at me, the way she feels in my arms, and how her voice softens when she's teasing me. I don't like the distance. I don't like that I can't just reach out and pull her to me whenever I want.
But this deal is crucial. The supplier issue isn't just some minor inconvenience—it's a potential disaster. And I need to fix it.
The days blur into endless meetings, negotiations, and problem-solving. The legal team here is barely competent, which makes me even more impatient to get back. Every night, before I close my eyes, I call Hermione. Her voice is the only thing that keeps me grounded in the chaos.
"Hey, Mr. Voss," she answers one night, her tone playful, but there's an edge of tiredness to it.
I lean back in my hotel chair, loosening my tie. "You look exhausted."
She laughs softly, but I can hear the fatigue beneath it. "I could say the same about you."
I run a hand through my hair. She's right. I feel like hell. "Tell me about your day," I say, needing the distraction, needing her voice. Her presence.
"Well," she starts, and I can picture her relaxing a little, making herself comfortable. "I spent the entire afternoon in meetings. Some boring corporate stuff, but then I found a new coffee shop near the office. I thought about sending you a picture, but then I remembered... you don't even drink coffee."
I chuckle at the image of her sending me a coffee photo. "I miss your randomness," I say softly.
She goes quiet for a moment, and I can feel the weight of her words through the phone. "I miss you more."
My chest tightens, hearing that. It's a simple sentence, but it cuts through all the noise of the day, and suddenly, I'm just here, aching to be with her. "I miss you, too. More than I can say."
We fall into a comfortable silence, the connection between us, the miles between us, suddenly feeling unbearable. I want to reach through the phone and pull her into my arms.
Later that night, we video call. It's better than nothing, but still, it's not enough.
She smiles at me through the screen, her eyes heavy with the same exhaustion I feel. "You should sleep," she tells me, her fingers tracing the edge of her phone as she looks at me. "You look dead on your feet."
I shake my head, pushing back the frustration of missing her. "Not yet. Just a little longer."
"You never know when to rest," she teases softly, her smile still lingering.
"I just... need to hear your voice, Hermione," I admit, my words coming out quieter than I intend. "This... all of this... it's not the same without you. I can't even think straight."
She sighs, her expression softening. "I wish I could be there with you. To help you relax... to make this easier."
"I wish that too," I say, my voice thick with longing. "Just a few more days, and I'll be back. Promise."
"I'll be counting the days," she murmurs. "Counting the hours, actually."
I smile, my heart aching. "Me too. I need you. More than anything."
When we end the call, I feel an emptiness that I can't shake. The room around me feels colder, quieter. I lie awake, staring at the ceiling, counting the days until I can see her again.
By the time two weeks pass, I'm done with this place. The deal is salvaged, the company is safe, but none of it feels like a real victory. Not until I'm back where I belong.
With her.