He slides his hand higher and says, “If you let me, I’ll put you back together, Myla, and swear to never break you again. Put us back together. You’re right about the Napa bubble, and when we get back, let’s sit down and talk about our future. How to incorporate our dreams. I want to do it right. With you.”

“I want to believe you, Ryot. I really do.” I drag my hand over his chest. He’s literally just spoken the very words I should have heard so many months ago. “Let’s sit down and talk about our future. How to incorporate our dreams. I want to do it right. With you.” And it’s not that I feel they’ve come too late. It’s more that I’m not confident they will come to fruition. So, instead of dashing his heart here, I’ll be leaning toward the compromise and hoping he doesn’t realize I’m ignoring this option. “Okay. So maybe . . . maybe we do just take this one moment at a time.”

I can see the hope spring to his eyes. “Yeah? One moment at a time?”

It’s scary to think that I’m even considering this, but it’s scarier to believe that this might be the last time I see him, so I nod. “Yes, one moment at a time.”

His shoulders deflate as if he’s been holding his breath this entire time, and he pulls me in even closer so our bodies line up. “One moment, baby. I’ll take it.” And then he closes the rest of the space between us and kisses me lightly. Our lips barely mold together before he moves me so I’m on my back, and he hovers above me, his strong, muscular body trapping me into a warm cocoon.

And as his mouth descends upon mine, his lips trailing along my jaw, my neck, and down between my legs, I hope and pray the entire time . . . please don’t let him hurt me again. Please show up. And then please stay present.

Chapter Twenty

MYLA

Six years ago . . .

“You don’t need to text him. You can do this,” Nichole says through the phone. She’s currently in New York City on a work trip.

“I can’t,” I say as I rock back and forth on my couch. “He texted me this morning, telling me about his day, and that if I’m free, he’d love to see me.”

“He’s texted you every day since you broke up with him, multiple times a day. Today is no different.”

“Today is different,” I say. “Today is the only day my dad’s executor can meet up with Mom and me. She’s already made comments to me about Ryot. About how he’s lucky that he got away when he could, something she assumed since he didn’t show up to the funeral. She’s been so cruel, Nichole. And this is awful, but I just want to prove her wrong. I want to show her that everything is okay.”