All for This Page 52


“So you slept with her.”

“I thought I’d lost you. I got drunk. And I woke up in bed with her.”

“You slept with her,” I repeat.

His eyes meet mine. “Yeah. I slept with her.”

I nod, and hot tears roll out of the corners of my eyes. “Do you still love her?”

“Not the way I love you.”

“Do you still love her?” I am a broken record.

“She’s the mother of my son. I’ll always love her.”

Vivian was right. I’m stealing something from him by being in his life. Would he even be here right now if it weren’t for these babies?

“Go to her.”

“Hanna, it’s not like that,” he growls.

“I’m not walking away,” I tell him. “I’m letting you go.”

“The f**k you are. I won’t let you.” He squeezes my shoulders and presses his mouth to mine, but I don’t open under him this time. I’m stronger now. If only I’d been stronger sooner.

“You are too good of a father to miss Christmas with Collin just so you can stay here and fight with me.”

“Come with me.” He shakes his head. “I’m not asking you to move. Just come for the holiday. Janelle will arrange for someone to cover the bakery.”

“We both know I don’t belong there.”

“Don’t do this, Hanna. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about London sooner, but I hardly had you. I couldn’t risk losing you.”

“Tell me something.” I force a full breath into my lungs. “If you hadn’t met me, would you be with her now?”

He pales. “Don’t make me answer that.”

The kitchen clock ticks, and on the street, a snow plow’s blade scrapes the street.

“But we both already know the answer,” I say. “Merry Christmas, Nate. Give Collin a hug for me.”

I walk away from him before my strength dissolves, and I shut and lock my bedroom door behind me. Time runs away from me. Minutes, hours, seconds—everything is meaningless but the measure of his steps against the floorboards toward my room, the space of the silence as he waits by my door, and the creak of the front door opening and closing.

I don’t change clothes and I don’t go to the bakery. I crawl into bed, curl onto my side, and fall asleep.

My bed feels cold. Empty. I reach for Nate and grasp at air. Slowly, I reorient myself, remember the argument, curl into myself at the memory of his confession.

“I thought I’d lost you.”

My stomach hurts—aches—with grief.

I gasp and put my hand to my belly, where the cramps that woke me are making my whole core ache. Not so different than the cramps I got with my periods, the pain is low in my pelvis and wraps around to my lower back.

“No,” I whisper, but there’s no one here to hear the word. I’m afraid to move, but I know I have to. I grab my phone from the end table and pull up my contacts list.

A sob lodges in my throat when I see Nate’s name, but he should be in California by now. I scroll past his name and dial Nix.

DRAKE OPENS the door when I arrive at Vivian’s and inclines his chin. “Collin’s already sleeping.”

I’m lunging for him before I know what I’m doing—pressing him against the wall with my hand at his neck. “What did you do to her?” Because Vivian was in London with me, but I have no idea where Drake was that day. I always assumed he was somewhere in London—he never strays far from Vivian’s side—but he could very well have been in New Hope assaulting the woman I love in some misguided attempt to protect the woman he loves.

“To whom?” he grunts. He barely seems fazed by the fact that I have him against the wall.

“Nathaniel, what are you doing?” Vivian asks behind me. “Let him go.”

“What did you do to Hanna?”

Drake lifts a brow and points to his neck, indicating that he won’t talk until I release him.

“You were there the day of the accident,” I say, and I back up because I need to know what happened. “You saw her with the ring on.”

Drake rubs his neck and looks to Vivian.

She nods. “Tell him.”

“When Viv went to London, I went to New Hope to talk to Hanna one more time.”

“If you hurt her,” I growl, “I’ll f**king kill you.”

“No, you won’t,” Vivian snaps.

“I didn’t hurt her.” Drake throws up his hands. “Why would I have wanted to do that? I was just there to find out what she’d decided, and she was wearing that local boy’s ring.”

I flinch. “Did she ever say why?” I don’t want it to matter to me. It shouldn’t matter if I have her now. But it does.

“She said that she loved him,” Vivian says, talking for Drake. “That she wanted to marry Max, and it was her final decision.”

I push past them and into the living room and collapse on the couch. My gut aches, and I feel like I’m seconds from losing the tequila I had on the plane.

“I thought you knew,” Vivian says behind me.

I rest my head in my hands. Of course I did. She was wearing his ring. My own damn sister said Hanna was leaning in that direction.

“But I didn’t believe. Jesus. I don’t know why it matters so much, but I needed to believe she’d choose me.”

“Maybe she would have,” she says softly. “I did something terrible.”

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