Page 55 of The Billionaire I Left Behind

I can’t keep waiting. Not when I almost lost her once.

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The night air is crisp, the ocean a steady hum beyond the cliffs. I lean against the porch railing, beer bottle in hand, watching the waves crash below. The lantern above swings lazily, casting a dim glow, flickering like the thoughts racing through my head.

Emma.

I scrub a hand down my jaw, exhaling hard. She’s everywhere. In the scent of lavender still clinging to my hoodie from the car ride, in the way my pulse kicked up when she smeared ice cream on my nose, in the echo of her laughter, light, unguarded, the kind I haven’t heard from her in years. What in blue blazes am I doing?

This was supposed to be nothing. Just three months, a legal technicality, a house we’d both leave behind. But now? Now I’m fixing reading nooks just to see her eyes light up. I’m choosing to spend time with her, looking for excuses to keep her close.

And the worst part? I don’t want to stop. I tilt the bottle to my lips, but it’s empty. Figures.

Just as I push off the railing, the door creaks behind me. Footsteps are soft, familiar. I don’t need to turn to know it’s her. “Couldn’t sleep?” I ask, my voice rougher than I expect.

Emma steps closer, stopping just a few feet away. She’s back in one of those oversized sweatshirts, sleeves covering her hands, hair loose over her shoulders. The sight hits me harder than it should.

“Long day,” she murmurs, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Figured some fresh air might help.”

I nod, watching her from the corner of my eye as she steps up beside me, resting her arms on the railing. The silence stretches, but it’s not uncomfortable. Just… charged.

She exhales slowly, staring at the waves. “The clinic spot felt real today,” she says, almost to herself. “Like it’s actually happening.”

It is happening. And she’s making it happen. “You’re gonna do it,” I tell her, meaning every word. “You’ll build that clinic, and it’ll be exactly what this town needs.”

She glances at me, something soft flashing in her eyes. “You really think so?”

I huff out a quiet laugh. “Emma, I’ve never seen you fight for something harder. You’re already making it happen.”

Her lips curve, but there’s something behind her expression. Something hesitant. And I hate that she still doubts herself. That she doesn’t see what I see. The wind shifts, and I swear the space between us shrinks.

Too close. Not close enough. I swallow, gripping the railing tighter. The air is thick, heavy with something, but neither of us moves.

After a beat, she sighs. “I should go inside. Big day tomorrow.”

I nod, but when she turns, something in me reacts before I can stop it. “Emma.”

She pauses. I don’t know what I was about to say. Maybestay. MaybeI miss you. Maybe something I can’t take back.

She turns back slightly, waiting. I exhale, shaking my head. “Goodnight.”

A flicker of something unreadable crosses her face, but she nods. “Goodnight, Bryan.”

And just like that, she’s gone, the door clicking softly behind her.

I stay outside long after she’s gone, staring at the waves, pulse pounding, wonder what is holding me back; wondering if I’m just too afraid of how she’ll react. Or maybe this is nothing and I’m imagining these moments mean something.

No, Bryan. This isn’t nothing. It never was.

Chapter seventeen

Emma

The weight of everything presses against my chest as I sit curled on the porch swing, staring into the horizon. The ocean stretches endless before me, waves rolling and crashing, a steady hum that usually calms me but not tonight.

Not when my phone buzzed an hour ago with yet another message. A polite but firm reminder: of the money I'm supposed to pay. Two weeks. That’s it.

I press my fingers to my temples, exhaling slowly, but the tightness in my chest doesn’t fade. It’s like a clock ticking down, a pressure I can’t shake, even when I should be happy. The fundraiser was a success, the clinic is finally within reach, and yet…

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