On my twenty-fifth birthday, Noah called. “I need to see you,” he said, and it didn’t sound promising. We weren’t a couple, not really, not in his eyes, and yet we weren’t not a couple. I gathered we were about to come to a conclusion.

When I saw him in Grand Central Station, my old love for him hit me like a wave, tumbling me in its force. I still loved him. I’d always love him. And when he saw me, his face softened just a little, an almost smile there on his lips. He never could grow a proper beard, but he looked sixteen if he shaved, and it was so . . . so endearing. My heart glowed that scarlet color that only Noah could bring.

“Hey, stranger,” I said, and gave him a big hug. We hadn’t seen each other in months, and he seemed bigger—broader shoulders, more muscle, and there was a sudden lump in my throat at the idea that my wild boy was now a man.

He wanted to go to a nearby restaurant and “get this out of the way.”

“Sure thing,” I said, nervousness and irritability fluttering in my stomach. I took him to a tourist-trap Irish pub just across the street, and we ordered beers and burgers. He could barely look at me.

So there was someone else, I guessed, and for a minute, I had to bend my head so I wouldn’t cry.

“How’ve you been?” I asked, my voice a little rough.

“I want you to marry me,” he said.

My head jerked back up. Not what I expected.

He was scowling.

“I want you to marry me and come home. I love you. I’ve never loved anyone but you, Sadie. But I’m not waiting anymore.”

“This sounds vaguely like a threat, not a proposal,” I said.

He didn’t answer. The waitress brought us our beers and wisely slipped away.

“Sadie . . .” He looked away. “Do you still want to get married?”

I sat back in the red booth, choosing my words carefully. “I don’t want to be with anyone but you, Noah. I love you. But I’m not sure I want the same life you do. You always had our future mapped out, and there doesn’t seem to be any room for compromise.”

“I did compromise! I lived here for four months.”

“And you hated it, just like you promised you would.”

“I can’t help that. You’re the one who sent me away.” He glowered.

“I didn’t send you away, Noah. I put you out of your misery.”

The waitress brought us our burgers. “Enjoy,” she said. We ignored her.

“Stoningham sucks the life out of some people,” I said. “I know you’re not one of them, but I am.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Thank you for being so understanding.”

He scowled.

I rolled my eyes.

“Are you happy, Sadie?” he asked.