Page 77 of The Billionaire I Left Behind

She’s too excited. I shoot her a glance. “You’re awfully cheerful for someone about to help me pack up my shattered hopes and dreams.”

She blinks, feigning innocence. “What? I can’t be excited to see the house one last time?”

I narrow my eyes. “No, because you hate packing. You once paid a teenager in snacks to move your stuff when you switched apartments.”

Stella presses her lips together like she’s trying very hard not to laugh. “Okay, first, that kid was entrepreneurial. And second, I just want to see the garden one last time.”

I let out a sharp sigh, shaking my head. “Stella, I just want to get this over with.”

She pouts dramatically. “Come on, Em, it’ll take two seconds. Just a quick peek, then you can doom-walk through the house all you want.”

I groan, rubbing my forehead. “Fine. Two seconds.” She beams. “Perfect.”

We pull into the driveway, and my stomach tightens as I stare at the house. The past few weeks play in my mind like a cruel highlight reel, laughter in the kitchen, lazy mornings on the swing, him kissing me under the stars.

I force myself to look away. That’s not my life anymore. I step out, my fingers twitching as I brace myself. But before I can head for the front door, Stella grabs my arm. “Garden first.” She tugs me toward the side path, practically dragging me along.

I huff. “You are way too invested in flowers.”

She just hums, but there's something in her eyes. Anticipation? And that gnawing feeling in my gut twists harder.

I round the corner then freeze. My breath stutters. The garden is glowing.

Fairy lights wind through the trees, casting soft golden halos over the freshly trimmed hedges and carefully arranged flowers. Roses, daisies, violets, all in full bloom, their petals catching the light. A gentle summer breeze carries their scents, and the sight knocks the air from my lungs.

And then… Bryan.

Standing in the middle of it all, hands in his pockets, looking at me like I’m the only thing that’s ever mattered. Buddy sits at his feet, wagging his tail happily, like he’s in on this too.

I whirl to Stella, except she’s gone. Of course she is. This was never about the garden.

I swallow hard, pulse hammering as I look back at Bryan. My voice barely scrapes out. “What is this?”

He takes a slow step forward, the golden light catching the soft edges of his face. He looks nervous. Nervous. Bryan never does nervous.

“This is me making things right.”

I cross my arms over my chest, shoving down the way my heart aches at the sight of him. “You can’t fix this with lights and flowers.”

His jaw tightens. “I know.” He steps closer. “But I can try.”

I exhale sharply, my emotions still raw. “Why, Bryan? Because you feel bad? Because I was your charity case, and you didn’t want to see me struggle?”

He flinches. “No. Please stop that.” His voice is rough, almost desperate. “You were never a pity project, Em.”

Tears sting my eyes, but I shake my head. “Then why?”

He doesn’t hesitate.

“Because I love you.”

The words punch through me. My breath catches, my world tilting as he moves even closer, his hands curling into fists like he’s afraid I’ll run.

“I love you,” he repeats, voice steady now. “I have from the moment you walked back into this house. Maybe I never stopped loving you. But I was scared, scared of losing you again, scared that if I let myself fall, you’d leave, and I wouldn’t survive it a second time.”

He exhales sharply, his gaze locking onto mine, raw, open, unguarded. “So yeah, I did things wrong. But none of it, none of it was because I pitied you. I just…” He drags a hand through his hair. “I just wanted to take care of you. The way I should’ve back then. I wanted to love you. I wanted us to work again.”

Tears spill over before I can stop them. My throat is so tight I can barely breathe. “You should’ve told me.”

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