Kevin’s mother told me to close my eyes, that she had something for me. I thought it was a surprise about the baby. I was ready to tell Kevin he was going to be a dad. .
. Instead, I opened my eyes to Jared, my father, and kevin’s mother screaming at me, her hands on my shoulders, holding me back while I fought to get to him. . “Kevin is paralyzed, and now he’s going to have to be in a wheelchair for the rest of his life because of your father, your drunk father,” she spat.
“You and your family have destroyed his life, his future. It’s all your faultä. Kevin hates you. And he never wants to see you ever again.
”
The accident had happened weeks earlier. My father, drunk behind the wheel, had crashed into Kevin’s car. Kevin had been in a coma ever since. I hadn’t been allowed to see him,to explain,to apologize.
That day, I learned he was awake, but I also learned I was banned from his life forever. . My father was sent to prison. My mother couldn’t look at me without crying, blaming herself,him,everyone.
I couldn’t stay in that house, in that town,with all those memories. I left the next week, pregnant without telling anyone, carry Kevin’s child inside me as the only piece of him I would ever have. . Five years passed.
I danced. I traveled. I raised our son, Lucas, alone. I told him his father was in heaven.
It was easier than explaining the truth. . Then I got the offer: principal ballerina at the Starlight Theater in my hometown. I told myself I was ready.
I told myself it was just business. I told myself Kevin would never have to know I was back. I was wrong about all of it. .
I was inspecting the theater, walking through the empty auditorium, when I saw her. A little girl, maybe three, with Kevin’s eyes and his exact smile, calling another woman “Mommy. ”
I stopped breathing. I watched her run to Brenna, the woman I’d once been, the woman who’d once been mine.
She had a daughter. She had moved on. She had built the life I’d been too broken to give her. .
I turned to leave, but Wesley, my assistant, was at my side. “Sir, that’s Brenda,isn’t it? The woman you’ve been looking for. After all this time, she’s married and had a kid.
”
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. I just watched her lift her daughter, her face soft and happy, and I felt the old wound tear open again. She looked happy.
She looked whole. She looked like she’d never spent a single night missing me the way I’d missed her. . I had spent five years in rehab learning to walk again.
I had spent five years searching for her, waiting for her, planning the moment I’d find her and propose. I had been ready to forgive her for leaving me, ready to start fresh, ready to give her the ring I’d carried in my pocket every single day since the night of the accident4. But she wasn’t waiting for me. She had a husband.
She had a daughter. She had a life that didn’t include me, and it was time I accepted that. . So I moved on, or at least I tried to.
My mother pushed Paige Baxter toward me, the daughter of a wealthy family, hoping a good marriage would finally erase Brenna from my heart. Paige was pretty,polite,and persistent. She moved into my house, arranged by our mothers, convinced I’d come around eventually. I let her stay because it was easier than fighting my mother again.
I told myself I could learn to love her the way I’d once loved Brenna. I told myself a lot of things back then4. Then Brenna walked back into my life, not as my lover, but as the woman begging me to invest in her theater. She needed me.
She needed my money,my influence,my help. And I couldn’t say no, even though every minute near her felt like drowning3. I tried to keep it professional. I tried to keep my distance.
But then she showed up at my office, soaking wet from the rain, her face flushed,and she asked me to sign the investment papers. I told her to come to my place. I don’t know why I said it. I just knew I couldn’t let her walk away again without trying to understand why she’d left, why she’d never come back, why she’d built her whole life without me1.
“You’re still the same. Heartless,” I told her when she wouldn’t explain her boyfriend, her husband,her family. “You left 5 years ago. Are you still afraid to face me?
”
She didn’t answer. She just stood there, her jaw set,and I saw the old fire in her eyes. The same fire that had made me fall in love with her in the first place5. “I thought I did, but I don’t know this woman at all,” she said once, when someone asked if we knew each other.
And maybe she was right. Maybe the woman I’d loved had never really existed,or had died the night of the accident along with my legs5. But I couldn’t let her go. Not again.
Not when I finally had her in front of me, close enough to touch, close enough to remember exactly how her hand fit in mine4. So I made the bet. We were at a charity golf event, and I was struggling, my legs shaking from standing too long. She walked up, took the club from my hands, and said,”Let me take the shot.
Trust me. ”
I didn’t trust her. I didn’t trust anyone. But I handed her the club anyway, because the truth was I’d never been able to say no to her, not then,not now4.
She hit the ball clean. The crowd cheered. I won the bet. And I agreed to invest in her theater, not because I believed in her project, but because I believed in her.
I always had5. I gave her back her mother’s pendant at the charity auction, the one I’d bought years ago, the one I knew she’d been forced to sell to pay her father’s debts. She looked at me like I’d given her the moon. She said,”You think I owe you?
I can’t repay you, but I will figure out a way. I promise. ”
I told her she didn’t owe me anything. I told her we weren’t in a relationship.
I told her to do what she wanted. But we both knew that wasn’t true. There had always been a relationship between us, one we couldn’t seem to sever no matter how hard we tried5. Then Paige pushed Brenna down a flight of stairs at a party.
I saw it happen. I saw Brenna fall,her body hitting each step,and I moved faster than I had in five years, catching her before she hit the bottom5. “I GOT YOU. PLEASE WAKE UP,” I shouted, holding her, her blood on my hands.
She woke up, dazed, with a mild concussion, and I checked her into the hospital myself. I stayed until I knew she was safe5. And then I found out she had a son. A five-year-old boy named Lucas.
A boy with my eyes and my smile, who called her Mommy,and who looked at me like he already knew me5. She’d lied to me. She’d told me he was her boyfriend’s kid. She’d told me she’d moved on.
She’d told me everything except the truth: that she’d been pregnant when she left, that she’d raised my son alone for five years,that she’d sacrificed everything to protect him from me6. “You’re his father,” she finally admitted, tears streaming down her face. “I raised him all by myself, so don’t you dare take him away from me. ”
I couldn’t speak.
I couldn’t breathe. I just looked at this little boy, this perfect little boy who was half me,half her,and I felt the world tilt beneath my feet5. “I wouldn’t dare,” I finally said. “I want us to be a family.
”
She shook her head. She told me it was too late. She told me she was still the same heartless woman who’d left me. She told me to go home1.
But I didn’t go home. I stayed. I told my mother the truth. I told her about Lucas,and about Brenna,and about how I’d never stopped loving her,and how I would never marry Paige,no matter what anyone arranged6.
My mother was furious at first. She tried to forbid it. She tried to remind me of what Brenna’s father had done. But then she met Lucas, her grandson, and the little boy hugged her and asked if we could please be a family,and I watched her walls crumble1.
“I’m sorry for everything I did,” she finally said to Brenna. “I thought I was protecting Kevin. I was wrong. I won’t interfere anymore.
”
And just like that, it was over. The lies,the secrets,the five years of pain15. all came down to this moment: Brenna in my arms, Lucas laughing between us,and my mother finally stepping aside4. I proposed again.
Not at a fancy restaurant or a romantic getaway, but at Fantasy Park, where Lucas played and the lights twinkled around us. I got down on one knee, my leg shaking,but I didn’t care1. “Brenna, I tried to propose the night of the accident, but life had other plans. The past five years, I’ve learned to walk again, but these past few days, you’ve helped me learn to fly again.
So, if it’s all right, tonight, I’d like to try to propose again. Brenna, will you marry me? ”
She laughed. She cried.
She said yes. She said she’d never stopped loving me. She said she was sorry for all the years we’d lost1. And when I kissed her, I felt the five years of pain finally start to heal.
I felt the future open up in front of us, bright and full,and I knew, finally,that this was where I was always meant to be: with her,with our son,with the family we’d almost lost before we ever had it4.
