I wander aimlessly around inside Amaryllis Events before storming out the front door. My dress shirt immediately begins to cling to my skin as I step into the summer warmth. Grateful I ditched my jacket and tie before driving here earlier, I walk to the end of the porch and wait for the all clear to head back into the kitchen.

Rolling up my sleeve, I see the keys I inked on my forearm after my heart was forever lost to me. The keys that purely represent my loss of Corinna also serve as a reminder for those who trusted their lives to me. To not let anyone else down in my life the way I was let down.

Cursing myself, I unroll the sleeve so my ink won’t show.

Resting my hips against the railing that runs around the porch, I lean back against the post and close my eyes, thinking about how much things have changed between us since we were in school together. Always an open book with me, Corinna needed someone she implicitly trusted to share the tsunami of emotion building up inside of her. Our bond was forged on late nights sitting around the kitchen table in the tiny apartment she once shared with Ali and Holly.

Corinna was always baking something mouthwateringly delicious, and I became her taste tester. And her friend.

My bond with Corinna was more profound than that. I coaxed her into sharing things with me she couldn’t or wouldn’t tell the others. About her grandmother, Clara, who she lived with until she was four. She had taught Corinna everything she loves about baking. How she was devastated when Clara died and she was turned back over to her parents. How she worried about her major of studio art wouldn’t translate to her true love of baking. How she was anxious about being able to find the money and the time to fit in summer cooking courses while working at the fledgling Amaryllis Events. She also told me why she feared the dark unless someone was holding her.

We became so close. There was no one I would have laid down my life for before Corinna. Even though we always started out talking about one of her fears, it would end up with me sharing one of my own. Was I ready to go into the Army? Was I going to be able to pull the trigger and take another human’s life when they were staring me right in the eye? Was I ready to leave my friends, or watch them die if I had to? More times than not, I’d see her eyes turn gold with fierce support and devotion. Corinna had set me straight in that perfect honeyed voice of hers all the while making me fall harder and harder for her.

And I knew I couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

I was leaving. She was damaged. Nothing good could come from the two of us being together. At least, nothing good for her. For me, it would have been the closest thing to heaven before I went through my rotation and likely got myself shot for daydreaming of the woman I left behind.

I found somewhere else to take care of my needs. Random chicks I’d bang who meant nothing more than releasing an ache caused by dark hair and golden eyes. I’d lose myself in the sex while thinking of what it would be like to wrap Corinna’s silky locks around my fist as I pounded into her body. It didn’t matter what color eyes the body beneath me had; it was always Corinna staring back at me. Corinna’s smile. Something I haven’t seen directed at me in more years than I care to count.

“It might be easier if you just tell her why you hurt her so badly instead of constantly beating yourself up over it.” Ali’s voice penetrates my thoughts, causing my head to snap up toward the door. She closes it quietly before making her way over toward me in a dark blue dress that hugs every inch of her figure.

I wasn’t kidding when I told Keene and Caleb the other night you’d never know either of their women had given birth so recently. Ali looks spectacular—glowing. Pushing away from the railing, I ignore her statement. “Happy Birthday, Ali.” I wrap my arms around her as she reaches me. Giving her a quick squeeze, I ask, “Happy?”

“Delirious with it, Colby. I’d like the rest of my family to be half as happy as I am.” Her smile is still dazzling, which is why I don’t notice her doubled-up fist that lands in my gut.

“Oomph!” The sucker punch surprises me. “What was that for?”

“That was for whatever you did to hurt my sister, you ass. I’ve waited long enough to do that. Be glad I didn’t have a meat cleaver in my hand, or you might not be able to use certain body parts ever again.” Ali’s smile doesn’t waver. It just hardens.

“Damnit, Ali. Don’t you think I’ve been trying to figure it out for the last ten years?” I growl. I start pacing back and forth. “Every time I get near her, she gets aggressive. I can’t get close enough to ask her about anything.”

“Cori doesn’t hate, Colby, with very few exceptions.” Ali glares at me. “Anyway, it’s time to eat. I heard Genoa is on the menu.” Without adding anything further to her cryptic statement, she heads for the door. Pausing as she opens it, she asks, “Are you coming?”

“Yeah,” I mutter. Mentally bracing myself, I follow Ali back down the restored hallways of the mansion toward the kitchen where the heady aroma of Italian lures us toward the kitchen. Raucous laughter can be heard long before we reach the door. Ali sweeps into loud applause and well wishes. Trailing in behind her, I go unnoticed, which works to my advantage.

Like the targeting system on a guided missile, I find Corinna in the crowd and I stop in shock.

Without the cover of the sheer shirt she wore the other night or her chef’s jacket she was wearing earlier, Corinna’s thin gray tank top does nothing to mask the amount of weight she’s dropped.

Her once ripe curves are edged out by muscle. Corinna’s arms are ripped, presumably from all the hard work baking daily requires. Where her stomach once pooched in the cutest way, her jeans barely catch low over her curvaceous hips. At least those are still there. My mind drifts back to when I’d hold her while she slept and my hand would find this certain spot on her hip. So smooth, so soft, so…Corinna. Her breasts, still ample by anyone’s standards, are smaller. God knows I’d spent enough time studying them.

How have I not noticed the finer cut to her already chiseled cheekbones? Her long-lashed, catlike eyes are almost too big in her heart-shaped face. And lips that were often dusted with whatever rich concoction she dreamed up, too pouty.

She’s still curvaceous, for sure, but she’s now more compact. And to make matters worse, while everyone else is gorging themselves on some of the best Italian food in the Northeast, she’s eating a salad from a container she’d obviously brought from home.

How did I not notice she’s disappearing in front of my eyes?

Suddenly, I’m angry at myself. Instead of forcing the issues to come to a head between us long ago, I’d let her walk away. I let her become someone I couldn’t talk to. Well, fuck that. I wasn’t going to watch her waste away as well.

Obviously, Corinna hadn’t met someone man enough for her while she was dating her way through the states of Connecticut, Rhode Island, and Massachusetts, to get through her skull she needed to take care of her body and not starve it to death. Yeah, I’d heard the talk from Jack about her serial dating one night over dinner. He laughed himself sick telling me, even though I felt like vomiting just hearing him talk about all the men she was seeing.

I’m contemplating whether or not I even feel up to eating, when I hear a sound I haven’t heard up close in so long. It burns deep in my heart’s memory. Corinna’s laugh. It’s not directed at me, but I don’t care. I savor it. There were nights I was stationed in some no-named hellhole and wished I could pick up the phone and just say something, anything, to hear her laugh. To let me know the fight I was sweating, bleeding, crying for was worth it.

Randomly, I shove a bunch of food on my plate and turned around to see Phil wrestling with Corinna for a spoon filled with the frosting she made earlier. But it’s the ink that wasn’t there years earlier decorating her back that almost causes me to drop my plate.

The words numquam obliviscar qui sis are woven like a chain through an antique key in between her shoulder blades. Unobtrusively pulling out my cell phone, I pull up a page to translate the words.

Never forget who you are.

Keys. What is it with both of us and keys? For me, the set I have is a direct replica of the set I gave to Corinna, down to the key chain she kept them on. But why a key for her?

I don’t know how, but I intend to find out what I need to know. When Corinna Freeman shines her golden light on you, that light becomes your reason for breathing. I just didn’t realize until now I was living on life support to get back to the real air I need.