At six, I go to the front to unlock the door and turn on the sign, and I find my mother standing at the entrance in her church clothes. The moment I open the door for her, she wraps me in her arms.

I will never be too old or too broken to be soothed by the comfort of my mother’s arms. She strokes my hair, and I let quiet tears leak from my eyes.

“I might not approve of your relationship with that rock star,” she whispers, “but I thank God my grandbabies won’t be deprived of knowing their father.”

That makes me cry harder.

She smooths my hair and gently pats my back. “How’s Max holding up?”

I withdraw from her embrace. “He’s fine.” And he is. Poor guy doesn’t even get the opportunity to be pissed off. If Nate had never been presumed dead, no one would have questioned Max’s right to be angry as hell about my summer with Nate. Maybe it wasn’t cheating, but it wasn’t honest either. And that was stolen from him. Since Max isn’t enough of an ass**le to wish someone dead, he’s left having to be okay with Nate’s reappearance in our lives.

“I just don’t understand,” Mom says as she walks over to the coffeepot.

I get to work on filling the bakery cases. “Don’t understand what?”

“How all of this happened. The pregnancy, the postponed wedding, your whole relationship with Nate Crane. A few days before your accident, you couldn’t wait to marry Max.”

I freeze with a tray of scones in my hands. “I couldn’t?”

“The sooner the better, you told me. You weren’t even wearing a ring yet, but you just wanted to start your life with him.”

“I said that?” I whisper.

“Yes. And it didn’t surprise me that you felt that way. Of course you would. You and Max were always so good together.” She looks down at her coffee and draws in a breath. “Then you had that horrible accident. You seemed so reluctant to make wedding plans, but I thought it was because you couldn’t remember. Then, suddenly, you were pregnant with another man’s baby. It didn’t make sense to me.”

“When did I tell you I wanted to marry Max?” I ask, pressing. Would I have told her that to help with his chances to get the grant? No. That doesn’t make sense. She would have been just as likely to support Max as my boyfriend as she would have if he were my fiancé.

Mom frowns at me. “Shortly before your accident.”

“But when?” I squeak. Mentally, I’m calculating what I know, what I remember, and trying to fit it in.

Mom props her hands on her hips. “Why does it matter?”

“I still don’t remember everything,” I explain. “And those last four days are still completely gone. I want to know.”

Her eyes tilt to the ceiling. “Well, I guess it was after Abby’s party. The day after, maybe? Because you’d forgotten to bring her gift to the party and you were swinging by the house to drop one off. Gosh, you know, maybe it was the day before your accident. That evening.”

“And I wasn’t wearing the ring?”

She shakes her head. “The first time I saw your ring, you were in the hospital. Why don’t you ask Max when he proposed? He can fill in some details.”

Because he proposed months before.

Mom cocks her head. “You look pale, Hanna. Are you sleeping enough? You need to make sleep a priority for those babies. Pregnancy is hard on the body.”

“I will,” I promise. I hand her a cup of coffee and lead her out the door.

It’s so tempting to hold on to the secret as long as I can. I force myself to pick up my phone and text Nate.

“DADDY!”

My heart swells as Collin runs to me across Asher’s backyard. I squat and open my arms, and he throws himself in them, hugging me as I lift him off the ground. I can breathe easier when he’s close to me. He’s the reminder of all the reasons I needed to let Hanna go. All the reasons I should wish her well in her life with Max. He’s the only thing that matters.

“I knew you weren’t dead,” Collin says, his face buried in my neck. “I just knew it.”

I stroke his dark hair, close my eyes, and say a prayer. “I love you, buddy.”

He gives me one more squeeze before pulling back and grinning at me. “Mommy said I can stay here for a while. Is that true? Do I get to sleep over at Uncle Asher’s house?”

Five minutes ago, I didn’t feel like smiling, but Collin’s happiness is contagious, and nothing matters now that he’s here—safe and with me, where he belongs.

“It’s true,” I answer. “How was the flight?”

“Awesome! Mommy let me drink champagne and then she played DS with me! Did you know she can beat all the levels on Luigi’s Mansion?”

I lift my gaze to Vivian, who followed Collin into the yard. “Ginger ale,” she explains. “Extra yummy in a champagne flute.”

“Drake,” I say, nodding to her personal security guard.

The tall man straightens his sleek leather jacket and nods as a greeting. He’s been Vivian’s bodyguard since we were teenagers, and I’ve seen him bloody faces of men who dared get their hands or their cameras too close to Vivian. His flowing, platinum-blond hair and ghostly blue eyes make him a more likely candidate for a retro romance novel cover than a security guard, but he’s good at his job.

“Is that Collin I see out there?” Asher calls from the patio.