My feet slow as I gaze out at the sun dropping below the horizon, its last light dancing over thousands of ripples, and I thank God for giving me a second chance.

“I think I like this meeting place better than the laundromat.”

The sound of that deep voice stops my heart dead. I gasp and spin around to find blue eyes and a mess of golden brown hair.

Trent is standing in front of me with his hands in his pockets. Here, in person.

I struggle to kick start my breathing as my heart starts up again, only now it’s pounding slow and rhythmic against my chest cavity. A jumble of emotions slam into me and I stand frozen, trying to separate and understand each one so I can deal with them. Not suppress them. No more bottling.

I feel happiness. Happiness that Trent is here.

Longing. Longing to feel him against my skin again, his arms protecting me, his mouth on mine.

Love. Whatever happened between us, it was real. I know it was real. And I love him for letting me experience that.

Hope. Hope that something beautiful may come from this tragic story.

Fear. Fear that it won’t.

Forgiveness … forgiveness.

“Why are you here?” I blurt out without thinking, my body trembling.

“Livie asked me to come.”

Livie. Always the surprise. Trent’s voice is so low and smooth. I could close my eyes and listen to it vibrate in my ear drums all night long, but I don’t because I’m terrified he’ll disappear. So I stare at him, at his parted lips, at his blue on blue irises as they roam my face.

“I guess she’s convinced you don’t stuff kittens into ATMs anymore.” I finally manage to say.

He chuckles, his eyes twinkling. “No, I suppose that’s one less worry for her.”

He’s a mere five feet away, three steps from my arms, and I can’t close the distance. I want to, so badly. But it’s not my right. That lean strong body, that face, that smile, that heart—none of it belongs to me anymore, outside of my dreams. Someone else will enjoy that blessing. Maybe they already are. “Does Dr. Stayner know you’re here?”

I watch Trent’s chest rise and fall with a deep inhale. “Yeah, I told him. I don’t hide anything from him anymore.”

“Oh.” I hug myself tightly. “So how are you doing?”

He gazes at me for a long moment before he smiles. “I’m good, Kacey.” There’s a pause. “But not great.”

I feel my brow furrow with concern. “Why? What’s wrong? Is therapy not working?”

“What’s wrong?” Trent’s brow arches as he takes two steps forward, closing the distance, his hands firmly gripping the sides of my waist. I suck in a gasp of air, his proximity to my body both alarming and intoxicating. “What’s wrong is that every morning and every night, I lie in bed wondering why you’re not beside me.”

My legs start to wobble. “You know why,” I answer in a low, defeated voice. Inside I’m screaming, cursing reality.

“No, I knew why before. But you set me free, Kacey, remember?”

I forgive you. I nod and swallow. His hand lifts to stroke my cheek with the pad of this thumb.

“And there’s nowhere I’d rather be than with you.” His thumb grazes my bottom lip.

I can’t seem to catch a breath. My hand shakes as I push a lock of hair back behind my ear. “What does Dr. Stayner say about this? Isn’t this wrong?”

“Oh, Kace.” Trent’s lips curve and he flashes me the deepest set of dimples I’ve ever seen, buckling my knees. “Nothing’s ever been more right.”

That’s all I need to hear. I barrel into his arms, my mouth connecting with his.

Seizing him. Feeling him. Loving him.

Epilogue

A light breeze ruffles the folds of Storm’s dress as she and Dan stand for pictures with the ocean and a fall sunset as a back drop. She’s the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen, all the more so with her swollen belly. The baby is due in just three months and Mia has taken to referring to it as “Alien Baby X.” I don’t know where she comes up with this stuff. Dan, probably. The baby is another girl. Dan jokes that he’s doomed, but secretly, I think he misses all the female companionship. The beach house is a little less estrogen-laden these days with Livie in New Jersey and me dividing my time between there, school, and Trent’s condo five minutes away.

“Who knew there’d be so many hot women at a wedding?” Trent sidles up behind me, hanging his arms around my shoulders. My stomach does a nervous somersault flutter. It always does that when Trent touches me. Even after three years, he can do things to me with a look that I thought impossible. I hope that never fades.

“By so many, you mean one, right?” I murmur as I tip my head back and nuzzle my nose against his jaw line.

He groans. “You trying to give me an erection in front of my parents?”

I laugh and roll my gaze over to see Carter and Bonnie watching us from the distance, and they’re beaming. During therapy, I realized that me barring them from my and Livie’s life from the beginning didn’t allow them the chance to heal as a family. After Trent and I reconnected, I made a point of writing a heartfelt note to them as way of apology. First Bonnie appeared at my door in tears, then Carter. One thing led to another and here they are, hand in hand, a family again.

The wind carries Livie’s soft giggle to us. She’s with Mia, who’s busy showing her all her new grown up teeth. Livie earned that full scholarship to Princeton like we all expected so we don’t see her much anymore. I’m so proud of her. I know Dad would be too.

But I miss her like crazy.

And I think she’s dating someone, but I’m not sure. She’s remaining vague about whatever’s going on in Princeton, and that’s usually a sign of a man. I hope she is. Livie deserves that and so much more.

I look out over the crowd of friendly faces. They’re all there. Cain and Nate—as dashing in suits as any man can be. Tanner, with a lady friend who he met online. Even Ben, arm in arm with a blonde bombshell lawyer from the firm he just joined. He catches me watching him and he winks. I can’t help but chuckle. Oh, Ben.

“You want to go to Vegas next week?” Trent whispers, biting my ear playfully.

I giggle. “I’ve got midterms, remember?” I just finished my first year of psychology at State. I plan on specializing in post-traumatic stress disorder therapy. I already have a killer reference from the renowned and unorthodox Dr. Stayner.

“Just a quick trip. To the chapel and back.”

“Yeah?” I lean back and look into his eyes to see if he’s joking. I see nothing but love.

His fingers graze my cheek lovingly. “Oh yeah.”

Trent has kept his promise. He makes me smile every day.



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