Boone’s phone rang, and the sight of Nicole’s face on the screen simultaneously sent his heart to the top of his skull and to the bottom of his feet.

He ignored the call. When she called again, he determined to leave his phone in his apartment as he went for his second run of the day. He normally wouldn’t do that, especially in a new city and on a ten-mile-run.

And he couldn’t this time either. He silenced the phone and stuck it in the pocket of his hydration backpack. Responsibility first, he thought.

“Come on, guys,” he said to the dogs, and they trotted to him from the giant window that overlooked the park. He put on their harnesses and leashed them before entering the hallway. He didn’t want to upset the elderly lady down the hall, and though he’d only lived in this apartment for two days, he knew if he let Vader even take one step into the hallway while he wasn’t on the leash that Mrs. Dennis would tattle to the HOA board.

Princess Leia wouldn’t ride the elevator, so Boone took them down the stairs and started his circuit around the park. He couldn’t find his rhythm, his thoughts circulating around the two phone calls.

What could she possibly want from him? She hadn’t spoken to him—truly spoken to him—in a long time. Before they broke up even. He thought of the wedding in her backyard, the twinkling tea lights and how they’d lit her eyes with a glow so sexy Boone hadn’t been able to draw a full breath.

He thought of her reassurances on the way home from Thanksgiving in Grape Seed Falls. The way her whole face had lit up at the dam and then the lake in Hill Country.

He thought about how much he’d told her, and what she’d shared with him. The love he had for her was still there, still choking him, still alive.

He stopped halfway through his run, unable to regulate his breathing and get in the right zone. Frustration rose to the back of his throat, coating it with bitterness. The marathon was in six days. He couldn’t afford to abandon his training schedule because of a phone call.

And yet, he did. Nicole had called four times by the time he checked his phone, and he sank onto a bench in the park and took a deep breath before dialing her back.

She answered on the first ring with, “You moved?” She didn’t sound angry, but her voice was definitely in the squeaky range.

His stomach twisted. “Last time I checked, I didn’t have to run anything past you before doing it.”

“Where are you?”

“It’s almost the marathon.”

“So you’re in Amarillo.”

“Yes, Nicole, I’m in Amarillo.” A flash of her tossing his dyslexia in his face scurried through his mind. “You had to call four times to confirm that? I’ve been telling you about the marathon for eight straight months.” His anger bubbled and all the things he’d wanted to say—all the horrible, hurtful things he’d wanted to say—surged to the tip of his tongue. “You know, it wasn’t my fault what happened at the Christmas program. You rehearsed the songs for weeks and weeks. You’re a beautiful singer, and maybe I should’ve stayed in my seat, but I didn’t. I can’t change that I didn’t, but it still wasn’t my fault you couldn’t sing.”

A pause made his skin crawl, and combined with Leia pulling on her leash, Boone got to his feet. “I don’t have time for this, Nicole. We broke up—an event where you didn’t say a single word. I don’t owe you any more explanations.”

He hung up before she could say anything. Boone glanced around the park, but no one seemed as unhappy as he was. Couples strolled hand in hand, and no one glanced his way. He felt invisible, alone, with this pain in his chest where his heart should be.

He swiped on his phone and made another call, but this time when the woman picked up, she said, “Boone, my sweet son, how are you?”

A smile stole across his face. “Hey, Mom. How’s everyone?”

She trilled out a laugh. “Everyone’s fine. The marathon is this weekend, right?”

She knew. Boone barely spoke with his parents and yet his mother knew about the marathon. He walked slowly toward the apartment building, his dogs coming along with him obediently.

“This weekend,” he confirmed.

“And we’ll be able to see the finish line online?”

“That’s right, Mom.” Fondness filled him, and he wondered if he really belonged in Amarillo. He glanced up into the sky, trying to listen to his emotions, his gut feelings, and God.

And he knew: He didn’t belong in Amarillo.

Problem was, he didn’t know where he belonged.

The week passed and Boone devoted every moment to his training, his marathon diet, and his dogs. He wasn’t starting at the new animal hospital for another week, and he’d considered returning to his family’s ranch for a visit. Just to see how he felt when he went home, find out if he was supposed to be there instead of here.

Nicole hadn’t called again, thankfully. Boone didn’t want to let the negative, hurtful words out. They wouldn’t help her, and they certainly wouldn’t help him either.

He started the marathon, his feet finding the rhythm easily, his lungs working properly. It was a good day to run, so Boone ran.

The hours passed—three of them—and Boone hoped to reach the finish line before the fourth expired. He checked his watch at mile twenty-four. He was going to make it under four hours, and a sense of pride inflated his chest.

His feet kept moving. His breath whooshed in and out. Eventually the finish line approached, and a pang of regret that he didn’t have anyone there cheering for him specifically stung for just a moment.

Then he crested the hill and saw the crowd about a half a mile up ahead. Pride swelled in his chest. He’d just run his first marathon!

A roar of noise met his ears, growing louder and louder until it was a cacophony of voices, all shouting and congratulating.

Somehow, through all that, he heard his name, which was unique enough that he knew it belonged to him.

“Boone! Go, Boone!”

He kept running, even as the voice separated itself from the myriad of other voices in the fray.

The voice belonged to Nicole.

He crossed the finish line, a huge smile on his face for his mother. He lifted his arms in victory and let his legs carry him several extra steps until he finally stopped. Pure euphoria filled him, and he turned to see if Nicole had really come.

He’d never specifically invited her to come watch him run, though he’d certainly talked about the marathon enough for her to know it was important to him.

Another runner stepped out of the way, and she appeared, her face just as beautiful as ever. She wore a distinctly hopeful look and approached like she wasn’t sure if he’d attack her or embrace her.

His heart skipped a beat, and then two. He was still in love with her, despite what she’d said and what she’d done.

“You just ran a marathon,” she said, a smile forming on her face. “It was incredible.”

He wasn’t sure if it was the adrenaline from all the endorphins, but a smile popped onto his face too. “I just ran a marathon.”

She gestured behind her, where a giant screen listed the runners and their final scores. “Not only that, but you finished in the men’s top ten.”

His attention shot to the scoreboard screen. The list cycled through and he waited to see his name. When it finally came up, it was listed as number nine.

Surprise kept his pulse bouncing in his neck, and pure joy made him turn toward Nicole and sweep her off her feet, a laugh flying into the sky. He forgot that they weren’t together. He forgot that she wasn’t his to kiss. He forgot the pain he’d endured since Christmas.

She laughed too and when he set her on her feet, the chaos around them melted into silence, into nothing. “Why did you come?” He kept his hands on her waist, kept her close.

“This was important to you.”

“Why did you tell everyone about my dyslexia?”

Her eyes turned scared and she shook her head. “I honestly don’t know. I got…lost. I blamed you for what happened at the program, because it was easier than blaming myself.”

“Blamed? Past tense?” Boone wasn’t sure why it mattered. She needed to do a lot more than come cheer him at the finish line to make up for what she’d done.

No she doesn’t, he thought. He knew Nicole Hymas, and she didn’t do anything she didn’t want to. She didn’t leave Three Rivers easily.

“I don’t blame you anymore,” she said. “I’m still working on myself.” She drew in a deep breath. “I am a horrible, horrible person. I know this. Boone.” She gazed up at him, her green eyes so intense. “I am so, so sorry. I cannot apologize enough.”

His heart softened. “I know you are, sweetheart.” He reached up and brushed her hair off her face. “But that still might not be enough. I have a new job here.”

“I’m in love with you,” she said, her voice strong and her eyes warm and wonderful. “And you haven’t sold the animal hospital, despite Louis Whitby having an offer in on it for weeks.”

Boone still loved her too, and his heart felt caught between two impossible situations. He sighed. “Sometimes love isn’t enough.”

“I refuse to believe that.” She clung to his arms. “I don’t think you believe that either.”

He didn’t, not really. But if there was one thing he knew, it was that once things happened, there was no going back. “Everything is different now.”

“You’re right. You’re different. I’m different.”

Boone stared down at her, realizing that his Nicole had returned. She wasn’t the vindictive, vicious woman who’d shouted his secret to the entire clinic.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I will say it over and over, because I mean it. If I could go back in time.” She cleared her throat. “I would. I would go back in time and fix that. Fix myself before I met you so I wasn’t so screwed up. Fix things with my siblings so I didn’t blame you for every little thing that goes wrong.” She sighed and paced away from him. “I know it’s not your fault I couldn’t sing at the Christmas program.”

When she looked back at him, raw fear rode in her expression. “It was mine. Everything that’s happened since then has been my fault.”

Boone had never felt the cleansing power of forgiveness as acutely as he did then. “It doesn’t matter,” he said. “It’s done. Over.” He opened his arms to her and she came to him, a wobbly smile on her face.

“I love you,” he whispered into her hair. He wasn’t sure where he should be living or what he should be doing, but he knew that.

“Mama’s really sick,” she said. “Daddy won’t leave her side.”

He held her at arm’s length. “Nicole?” Tears trickled down her cheeks and he tenderly wiped them away. “Talk to me.”

“I don’t want—I mean, I want someone by my side when I can’t remember who I am, holding my hand and telling me stories of how we fell in love.” She inhaled deeply and let it out slowly. “I want you to be that man, Boone.”

“And I want to be that man,” he whispered just before he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her lips.