It's been three weeks since I left California and three weeks since I last spoke to Frankie. I texted her once to let her know I was thinking of her and loved her, but she never responded. I cannot even tell you the number of hours I've stared at the damn screen on my phone, waiting for anything from her…a call, a text, an email, anything.

My stomach twists and turns when every morning I still haven't heard from her. I'm trying to give her time to figure out her life—with or without me. But the morning I left Los Angeles, I felt we were headed in the right direction—back to each other.

"This car is unbelievable," Carter hollers at me from under the hood of the Corvette LS6. We got the Vanderbilt car delivered a week and a half ago and Carter is still giggling like a schoolgirl over it. We have a thirty-page list of every part we need to order, manufacture, or refurbish to get this car back to like-new condition in the next fourteen to sixteen months.

I swivel in my chair to find him walking toward me with a huge grin on his face. "I still cannot believe you scored this car." He slaps my shoulder and throws himself down into the chair next to me. "In my entire life, I never expected to work on a Corvette LS6."

"She's a beauty," I remark.

"Speaking of beauties, heard from Frankie?"

I shake my head and exhale loudly, releasing my frustration. "Nope."

"Well, you've got a lot going on the next few weeks. The fewer distractions, the better." He cringes as soon as he says that. I know he's just trying to make me feel better.

"Frankie would never be a distraction."

He sighs loudly. "I didn't mean it like that."

“Fuck, Carter, you were the one who kept telling me I needed to talk to her. I did, I poured my damn heart out to her, and now this.” I push myself up from my chair and pace the garage, raking my hands through my hair.

"Calm down," Carter says. "When has Frankie ever not thought something through? She's taking her time and organizing her thoughts. That's what she does." As if Carter knows a damn thing about her…except he's right.

"But what if she goes back to Ted?" My stomach turns at the thought of this.

He laughs a deep belly laugh. "She's not going back to Ted."

"But what if—"

He stands up and cuts me off. "She's not going back to him. Stop stressing."

"But she's not coming back to me." My voice wavers.

"Yet. Give her time, man." He pats me on the shoulder before heading back to the car to get to work.

I nod my head in agreement. Even though my gut tells me she's not coming back.

---

"Hang one picture on the wall over each booth," I instruct the handyman who's putting the finishing touches on The Fault Line Bar and Grill. We're scheduled to open on Sunday with an exclusive friends and family night the night before. I want to give everyone a dry run on what to expect when we open.

I stand back and look around, completely in awe of how this place has come together. The menu is the perfect mix of bar and pub food with touches of Mexican and Asian fusion to give it a nice flair. I've sampled everything on the menu and there isn't a damn thing I don't like.

We've got four homemade specialty craft beers and another twenty on draft, along with a full bar. Our focus will be on the happy hour and evening crowd, allowing Gus's diner to cater to the breakfast and lunch crowd. My intention was never to take out another small business, but to grow Crescent Ridge through more business and jobs. There's room for everyone in this town, and I love watching everyone be successful.

"Boss," Heather, our hostess, calls to me from the hostess stand near the front door. "Quick question on the app for seating." She points to the iPad that's propped on the hostess desk that shows the entire layout of the restaurant.

"Be right there." I grab the stack of freshly printed menus from the box that was just delivered and carry them with me to the hostess station. I help Heather figure out how to adjust servers' sections on the app and how to sign employees in and out for their shifts.

While Heather situates the stand, placing the menus in their holder and sorting other deliveries that have come in today, I step aside and admire how this once abandoned building has come together. This is the first time I've seen it in the evening. I appreciate how the wall sconces and small lanterns light up each individual booth, and the large metal and wood light fixture hangs perfectly over the bar, casting just the right amount of ambient light for that area. The metal, wood, leather, and brick all play off each other to give this place exactly what I was looking for. Modern, rustic, and old, all in one.

"Sorry, Ma'am, we're not open yet." I hear Heather say as the front door chimes.

When I turn, I see her bright blue eyes looking back at me. She's wearing a pair of worn jeans with a hole in the knee, a long sleeve black t-shirt, and a pair of black Converse sneakers. She's a vision from the past, only she's here now.

"Cole," she says my name hesitantly, but her feet betray her excitement and carry her toward me.

"You're here." I look at her in disbelief. "How'd you find me here?"

She stops in front of me with a sheepish grin. "Just got back to town a couple of minutes ago. Word on the street is you're revitalizing Crescent Ridge building by building on every block." Her eyes widen with awe as she looks around the place. "The Fault Line Bar and Grill," she says quietly, taking in the significance of the name.

The fault line means something to Frankie and me—it's where we went as kids and grew up together. Our first kiss was there and our first fight. Damn near every memory of our childhood happened at the fault line.

"Seemed fitting." I swallow hard as my heart pounds deep in my chest. I want to reach out and touch her, but I refrain. "Everything good to me revolved around that damn fault line." One side of my mouth quirks up.

Her blue eyes dance around the room, taking in all of the details, the pictures of the old Crescent Ridge and the change I want to bring to the new Crescent Ridge. When her eyes finally land on me, she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth. "Me, too."

She shifts from foot to foot nervously, and I finally invite her to take a seat with me in a corner booth, away from the hustle and bustle and chaos of the crew still working. I want to kiss her, devour her, and hold her—but I pull myself together as we get situated in the booth.

"I wasn't sure I was going to hear from you," I tell her honestly, rubbing my hands together nervously.

She offers me half a smile. "I'm sorry about that. I just needed some time to really think about what I want to do with my life." She picks at her thumbnail as she speaks. "I wanted to take the time to make sure I was making decisions not out of emotion, but from the heart. Decisions that’ll change the course of my future." Her voice shakes slightly.

My throat tightens and my heart sinks as I see the look on her face—a face I've always been able to read. Her features tell me her future isn't here in Crescent Ridge. I feel every ounce of hope drain from my body. I swallow down the growing lump as I tell myself that I can't be angry at her. I feign a happy smile for her. "I'm sure whatever you decide, or wherever you go, it’ll be because you've been thoughtful about your choices. You never make irrational decisions, Frankie. That is one of the things I've always loved about you. You're a smart woman—" I stop because I feel my throat tightening up again. This is it. She's here to tell me no, and I have to accept that. And I will. It’ll destroy me, but I’ll let her go for good this time…the way I should have before.

She stares at me, fighting whatever it is she's here to tell me. I see the fear in her eyes and the contemplation written across her face. She's not here to choose me. For a long moment, we both sit in silence, not knowing what to say or where to begin.

"So where are you headed and what are you going to do?" I almost choke on the words as they come out, they're so painful.

Frankie inhales deeply, her eyes misting over. "The last case I tried really took a toll on me. I don't know if you heard anything about it, but I got a successful conviction on a man who raped and murdered two little girls."

I nod. “I did hear.” Everyone in this damn town talked about that case because Frankie was trying it. She may have abandoned this town, but she's still the best thing Crescent Ridge has ever produced. And everyone here is so fucking proud of her, no one more so than me.

"That’s why I went into law. I loved prosecuting. I got a high off putting the bad guys away and bringing justice to people." Her forefinger traces a nervous circle on the table. "But something about this case just…" She pauses, searching for the right word, "hurt." She licks her lips before continuing. "I was happy to get justice for the girls and their families, but something inside me broke. I lost the passion. The pain and hurt was too much and what used to fuel me finally broke me."

A stray tear slides from the corner of her eyes and rolls down her cheek. It takes every ounce of self-control to keep from reaching across the table and swiping it off her cheek.

"You're a damn good lawyer, Frankie. I hope you know that."

She nods her head. "But being a good lawyer and having the passion to continue doing what I was doing was going to kill me." She takes a deep breath. "And then when everything happened with Ted, it gave me perspective. After I took some time to think about what I wanted with my life, it was almost a relief, a chance for a fresh start."

My heart skips a beat at her revelation about Ted. "How were you not on the same page as Ted?” I ask curiously. “You were going to marry him."

She shrugs. "I settled for what he wanted, because I didn't care enough to fight for what I wanted."

I frown because this sounds so unlike the Frankie I know.

"He didn't want a family, so I said fine, I don't want one, either—but the reality is, when I was here with Mom, and seeing Maggie and Matthew it made me realize I do want a family. And I want to slow down and enjoy life more, not work so much." Her blue eyes sparkle with unshed tears.

My stomach twists as I listen to her justify her decision—to follow her dreams and not choose me. And it's so fucking selfish of me to feel this way, because this girl, my Frankie, deserves the fucking world. She wants a life, a family, and a future—and for her that's not here in Crescent Ridge, it never has been.

"I'm not fully getting away from law," she continues with a small sigh. "I'm going to volunteer with several non-profits and teach some pre-law classes online. It allows me a more flexible schedule so that I can slow down a bit and just live. Maybe take a vacation once in a while, read some books, and maybe take some classes on teaching yoga." She cracks a small smile, and while my heart slowly breaks it simultaneously feels good to see her happy.

I choke back my emotion as I think about how brave she is, sitting here being honest with herself and me. I see the fear leaving her eyes as she builds her plan in her head and tells me about it.

"I'm proud of you, Frankie. I always will be." In this moment, I feel like I might vomit and I'm not sure I can handle her telling me she can't choose me…us. I respect her decision, but it hurts like a motherfucker to know I'm losing her.

My eyes sting with unshed tears as I stare at the beautiful woman across the table from me. Her long fingers are laced together as she watches me in return. The sight of her is almost too much to bear. Her lip twitches and her chin trembles ever so slightly as we just take each other in. I wonder when I'll see her again. If she'll keep in touch with me. If we've forged a new kind of friendship where she might call or text me now and again. Bile rises in the back of my throat as I think about saying goodbye to her.

I shift uncomfortably, not sure how to say goodbye to the only woman I'll ever love. I can barely speak as I blink back tears. "I should probably get back to work." I point my thumb over my shoulder toward the kitchen, where the staff is still unloading equipment and supplies that are being delivered.

"So you're just going to go back to work?" she asks, her brows furrowing.

"Frankie…" I close my eyes. I can't break here.

She leans in and places her hand on mine. "Did you not hear a word I said?"

I slowly open my eyes and look at her. "I heard everything. You're moving on—blah, blah, blah." I know I sound like a dick when I say it like that, but fuck…"I'm so goddamn proud of you, Frankie, but please try to understand this is difficult for me. This isn't what I wanted. I wanted you. And me. And I wanted a second chance with you." I look away from her, not able to bear looking at her perfect face a second longer.

She actually starts laughing at me. "You're a real pain in the ass, aren't you?" Her head tips back and she laughs harder.

"This isn't funny, Frankie," I snap at her, my emotions turning from sadness to anger.

She leans forward, pulling both of my hands into hers. "If you were listening to me, I'm choosing us." She smiles the sweetest fucking smile I’ve ever seen. "I'm choosing you, Cole."

My heart damn near stops beating. "Me?" Now I'm the one that's confused.

"You." She squeezes my hand. "I'm choosing us."

My whole body floods with relief and a spontaneous but cautious joy. I slide out from the booth and pull her from her seat, scooping her into my arms. I squeeze her tighter than I've ever hugged her before. I can feel her lips pressed against my neck as she hugs me in return. Everything I wanted is falling into place and I didn't have a clue. The restaurant, my auto business, but mostly Frankie…I feel like my life is finally coming together.

"Us," I say.

"Us," she repeats.

I don't know how long I hold her, but when I finally let her down, I see tears on her cheeks. "We're going to be okay this time," I tell her, wiping them with my sleeve. "I promise." I know words don't mean much, it'll have to be my actions that prove I'm committed to her and our relationship. "I'm never letting you go, Frankie."

She smiles as she lets out a deep breath and looks around the restaurant. "You finish up here. I'm going to head over to my mom’s and check on her. I came straight here when I got back to town."

I glance excitedly at the time on my phone. "I'll be done here in about an hour. Come over to the house after you get settled and see your mom, but take your time. I know she'll be excited to see you." I lean in and kiss her, hard…like I've never kissed her before as a sense of hope takes up residence inside me.