“You really think he might be better for her?” Janelle asks, and I don’t answer because if I didn’t believe that, I would have fought for her from the first.

Four Days After Hanna’s Accident

I’M HALF lost in Asher’s song when I see Hanna coming down the stairs with her sisters. The sight of her catches me off guard and makes me miss a whole verse. She’s grinning and beautiful, her legs on display in that sexy-as-fuck jean skirt. Happiness radiates off her as if she doesn’t have a care in the world. As if she didn’t just break my heart.

Asher narrows his eyes at me, and I tear my gaze away from Hanna and find my place in the music, hide behind lyrics and harmony like I have most of my life.

Asher transitions into “Unbreak Me,” and I follow, harmonizing as he sings to his woman. When the song’s over, he leaves the stage to kiss the shit out of Maggie, and jealousy rips through me. I’ve always appreciated what they have, but I’ve never been jealous of it. I never thought I could have it for myself, so I didn’t bother with wanting it. But then there was Hanna.

I start playing her favorite song before I realize what I’m doing, and when I lift my gaze to hers, she’s looking at me, and I’ll be damned if I don’t understand a single emotion on her face. I should have seen this coming. She hasn’t answered my calls or texts since our fight in LA. Then, when I got her message saying she hoped we could talk when I got to town, I assumed the best.

But she chose him and didn’t even have the courtesy to warn me, and now she’s looking at me like my mere existence confuses her.

It hurts too much to look at her. She’s everything I want and can’t have. She’s everything I would turn my world around for, and I f**ked it up.

So I refocus on my song and the lyrics she loves so much.

I’m nobody’s hero, baby. Try not to fall too deep.

I’m nobody’s angel, love, but you were crying in your sleep.

I’m useless, empty, nothing, sugar. Wait around and then you’ll see.

You thought you’d find your answers, but now you’re lost in me.

I wrote this song for Vivian before Collin was born. She wasn’t in love with me. She was in love with the idea of me. And then she got pregnant and was tied to me—a man who was nothing like the man she deserved. Not so unlike Hanna.

My throat grows thick, but I swallow back the emotion and lift my head to watch her as I sing the last verse. I’m almost surprised when she keeps her gaze locked on mine—that same pain and confusion in her eyes that I saw earlier.

I end the song and leave the makeshift stage. I can’t do this. I can’t pretend I’m not in love with her. I can’t pretend she didn’t steal my heart and throw it away.

Up the stairs and out the back door, I find myself heading down to the river that runs behind Asher’s house. I have to leave, because if I stay, I’ll drink, and if I drink, I’ll drag her into my bedroom and beg her to reconsider. If I drink, I’ll break the only promise I ever had the courage to make to her.

To think I climbed into her bed last night, ready to promise so much more.

“Stop!” The sound of Hanna’s voice stalls my feet, and for a moment, I dare to hope she’s following me to tell me she’s changed her mind. “Who are you?”

I wince and then turn to her. “Is that supposed to be funny? Pretending there was nothing between us wasn’t enough? You need to pretend you don’t even know who I am?” And f**k f**k f**k, this hurts. Did I really let myself believe it could work out differently? That she might choose me? That, for once, I’d be first choice and not the castoff?

“I—I don’t know who you are,” she says slowly. “But maybe I should? I was injured and I have amnesia, so I honestly don’t know you.”

What the hell? “Amnesia? You’re kidding me.” I take a step forward, remembering the bruises I saw at her apartment last night.

“I’m not.” She holds up a hand to stop me. “I’d prefer you to stay over there. Please.”

“Amnesia.” Please God, let this mean she didn’t choose him.

“Yeah.”

“You don’t know who I am.”

“I don’t know who you are or why you would crawl into my bed in the middle of the night. I don’t understand why—” Her eyes fill and tears stream down her cheeks. Tears I’m desperate to kiss away. I just want to hold her, to whisper in her ear until her body relaxes in my arms. “I don’t understand,” she repeats.

“You don’t remember anything?” God, what are the odds? “Do you know who you are?”

“Yeah. I remember everything up until about a year ago, but the last eleven months are just…gone.”

Which means every single moment with me is gone. I drag a hand through my hair and exhale slowly as I try to wrap my head around this new information.

“Do I know you?” she asks.

Better than anyone else in the whole world. “Yeah. You do.” My chest is tight and my throat thick, but I take a chance and say, “I’m the idiot who’s in love with you.”

“But I’m engaged.”

“I saw that.” I look to her hand again, and again, that damn ring is staring back at me. But maybe… “Can I ask? Did that happen before or after the amnesia?”

Her tongue darts out to wet her lips. “Before.”