Page 1 of The Billionaire I Left Behind

Chapter one

Emma

“She would have loved these flowers,” I murmur, brushing my fingers against the sunflowers woven into the wreath. Bright, cheerful, unapologetically bold just like Grandma.

It’s a small comfort, knowing I got this one thing right. She would have teased me, saying it wasn’t worth the effort, but I know better. Sunflowers were her favorite. They were her.

The minister’s voice drifts through the salt-tinged air, soft and steady. I try to focus on his words, but my mind keeps wandering, caught between the weight of the past and the silence of the future.

The ocean breeze carries the sound of waves from beyond the cemetery gates, mingling with the rustling leaves and the faint shuffle of feet. The whole town showed up today. Mr. Harper from the hardware store. Mrs. Meyers from the diner, and so many more.

These are faces I’ve known my whole life. Grandma meant something to all of them. She meant everything to me.

“Emma, sweetheart,” Mrs. Walters whispers, touching my arm gently. “I’m sorry about your loss.”

I nod stiffly, though my throat feels tight.

“Thank you,” I force the words out, the sound brittle and thin.

She pats my hand and offers me a kind smile before turning back to the service. I glance down at the folded program in my hands, tracing the neat edges with my thumb. The casket is just a few feet away, draped in sunflowers and daisies, but it still doesn’t feel real.

And then I feel it.

A prickle at the back of my neck, the sense of being watched. My heart skips, then pounds, a quiet panic threading through me before I even turn to look.

But I do.

And there he is. Bryan Lawson.

He’s standing at the back of the crowd, half-hidden in the shadow of a towering oak tree, but there’s no mistaking him. Even after all these years, I would know him anywhere.

My breath catches, and my chest tightens.

His eyes lock on mine, and for a split second, everything feels impossibly still. Then time lurches forward, the air thick with the weight of the past.

He’s changed, but not enough to make him a stranger. The same tall, broad-shouldered frame. The same confident posture that made everything seem so steady back then. But now, there’s something sharper about him that seems more guarded.

The boy I once knew is gone. The man before me is a stranger.

My stomach twists, torn between longing and guilt, regret and something sharp enough to sting.

I try to look away, but my gaze is glued to him, searching his face for... what, exactly?

Bryan looks up, his expression unreadable.

Then, just as abruptly, his eyes narrow, cold, like he’s sealing himself off. The impact is immediate, like a thunderclap splitting me open. My breath hitches, my heart pounding so loudly I can hardly hear anything else.

Does he hate me? The question ricochets through my mind, loud and insistent, drowning out everything else. The past crashes into me, his laughter, his touch, the way he looked at me when I left without a goodbye. My betrayal still haunts me, deep in my chest.

His face remains unchanged. He doesn’t move closer, doesn’t give me anything to hold on to. Just watches me, that steady, piercing gaze that once made me feel like I was the only person in the world.

But now? Now it feels like I’m under a microscope, and I can’t tell if he’s curious or cold.

The ache unfurls, sudden and sharp, like someone yanked a cord too tight. My throat tightens, and I bite my lip, fighting the stupid urge to call after him, to beg him to say something anything.

And then, before I can gather my scattered thoughts or muster the courage to speak, he turns.

His back stiffens, his jaw clenches, like he’s pushing something deep down. He strides toward the gate and pauses. I swear I see him take a breath, as if to steady himself. His head half-turns, and for one second, I think he might come back.

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