Page 65 of The Billionaire I Left Behind

“Emma,” he murmurs. I swallow hard, my heart racing. I’m in love with him. All over again. And that terrifies me.

I pull back slightly, searching his face. “This… this isn’t just the moment, right?”

His eyes darken, his grip on me tightening slightly. “None of them were just moments, Em.”

My chest constricts. “Bryan, can this …”

He shakes his head, brushing a strand of damp hair behind my ear. “No more running,” he murmurs. “No more overthinking. Just us.”

I hesitate. Not because I don’t want this, but because I want it too much. His lips press into a small smile, his thumb grazing my cheek. “Let’s just take it a day at a time.”

And somehow, that’s enough. I exhale, letting my body relax into his. He wraps an arm around me, pulling me against his chest, and we sit like that, watching the fire burn low, the ocean a steady heartbeat in the background.

Falling for Bryan Kingston all over again might be the scariest thing I’ve ever done. But as I sit here, wrapped in his arms, it doesn’t feel like a mistake.

***

The past few days have been nothing short of bliss. It’s the kind of happiness that seeps into my bones, the kind I never thought I’d feel again. Between working tirelessly on the clinic and spending time with Bryan, my life has taken on a new rhythm one filled with warmth, with laughter, with moments that feel stolen from a dream.

And now, as I sit in the passenger seat of Bryan’s truck, watching him drive with one hand on the wheel and the other resting casually on his thigh, I can’t help but smile at him.

Bryan notices. Of course, he does. He smirks, glancing at me before focusing back on the road. “You’re staring, Em.”

I roll my eyes, crossing my arms. “Am not.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Liar. You totally were.”

I bite my lip, trying and failing not to grin. Because he’s right. I was staring.

Bryan Kingston is ridiculously handsome. The way his eyes glint in the afternoon sun, the way his muscles flex subtly whenever he shifts gears, the ease with which he laughs and teases me. It’s dangerous how effortlessly he pulls me in.

I exhale, shaking my head. “Fine, maybe I was.”

He raises a brow. “Oh? And why is that?”

I hesitate, then say, completely honest for once, “Because I’m grateful.”

His expression softens. “For what?”

I look at him, really look at him, and let the words spill out. “For everything,” I say, voice steady. “For making me feel happy again. For supporting my dreams. For just… being here.”

Bryan’s fingers tighten around the steering wheel briefly before he reaches over, grabbing my hand in his. A jolt of warmth shoots up my arm, my pulse quickening at the contact.

“You deserve that,” he murmurs. “And more.”

My chest tightens, and I grip his hand a little firmer, letting myself savor the moment, the sincerity in his words.

Outside, the sun dips lower, painting the sky in streaks of gold and pink. The radio hums in the background, one of our favorite country songs playing softly. When the chorus comes, we both start singing, completely off-tune, laughing between the lyrics.

This is what happiness feels like. For the first time in a long time, I feel weightless. I feel alive.

As we drive further up the winding road, something seems familiar. Nostalgic.

The turns, the curves, it all clicks into place. I know exactly where we’re going. My heart clenches. The cliffside viewpoint.

It’s the place we always went to as teenagers whenever we wanted to be alone. Where we had our first kiss.

The truck slows as Bryan pulls up to the small dirt lot near the edge. The ocean stretches endlessly before us, waves crashing against the rocky cliffs far below. The view is just as breathtaking as I remember if not more.

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