He remembers.

And he’s pissed off with me.

Of course he is. I screwed up big time, and didn’t even tell him I know now who the girl who was sending him the messages was. That I know it wasn’t his fault and that I’m sorry for judging him so quickly and so harshly.

Especially after he confessed why he has trust issues.

He let me in all the way – into his apartment, into his life, into his secrets, and I didn’t even manage to apologize. He just looked so…disappointed. And angry.

Was he really going to tell me he remembered it all after tonight? Why did he wait?

I don’t understand.

I scramble down the stairs and step out into the cool evening air. With shaking hands, I call up the app on my cell phone and get an Uber. Hopefully my hotel still has rooms.

And then I need to get a flight back to Chicago.

I knew this was a bad idea.

For once, I was right.

My phone dings with yet another message from Trent as I wait by the side of the street, and yeah, I’m changing numbers the moment I get back home.

Home. Being with Kaden had felt like home these past few days, much more than Chicago ever did.

And I need to stop thinking about that, because…

Because I’m pretty sure my heart is crumbling into fine powder. It’s not him I don’t trust, you see.

It’s myself. If I can screw up a good thing like that, how will I ever find happiness? Why would I deserve it?

The Uber arrives. With one last glance behind me, in case Kaden came after me, I climb inside and give the driver the hotel address.

He didn’t come after me.

Then again, he’s concussed, and that’s a lot of stairs.

Still.

Right?

What in the world am I doing? I’m so frigging confused, I don’t know which way is up. Is this mess his fault? Mine?

Maybe we’re both to blame.

My phone dings with a message from Maggie. I open it automatically.

It just says, “Did you talk or did you run?”

It hits me like a ton of bricks. It’s as if a wall fell on me.

Oh God, I’m running? Again? I can’t be such a coward. Even through the crushed pieces of my heart I feel the connection to him. How can I just let that go once more and regret it forever?

He made an effort.

And then my phone dings again, and it’s not from Trent or Maggie. It’s from Kaden.

Don’t run, baby, it reads, and I clap a hand over my mouth, muffling a sob. Check the videos on your phone. Give me one more chance.

The Uber driver gives me a funny look through the rearview mirror. “Everything okay, miss?”

“Yes, just… Stop.”

“What?”

“Stop the car.” I open my photos and videos up, and sure enough there’s a video with Kaden’s face on the still, uploaded this morning.

My finger hovers over it.

“Want me to go back, miss?” the driver asks.

“No, not yet. Just… wait? Please.”

I draw in a deep breath.

And press play.

He’s standing in front of the drawing of the key in his bedroom. The blinds are down, but there is enough light to see his handsome face. It must have been right after he shaved, because his face is smooth. God, he’s so cute.

If someone with shoulders like a hanger can be called cute.

But he is. Sweetly handsome. Strong. Sexy.

“Hailey.” He angles the phone better, so that I can see his eyes. “Not sure if this is a good idea, but I saw your phone and I thought, hell, why not?” He grins right at the camera, and my heart stops.

Sweet baby Jesus. Look how my heart came back to life just from seeing his face and hearing his voice.

I laugh, and I have tears in my eyes, watching him rub at his forehead and wink at me.

“So a lot of bad has come through our phones, and I wanted to set it right. I am in a setting it right mode today, as you’ll see when you come back home. Home to me.” He brings the camera closer. “And you can tell this asshole Trent, that. You belong with me. You’re my girl, and he’d better keep his fucking hands off.” He considers what he said. “His metaphorical texting hands, too. And his dick is tiny. Tell him that.”

I snort.

The driver gives me a long-suffering look.

“So I am now in your phone, too. To tell you that I love you. Let it be on the fucking record: I, Kaden Hansen, love you, Hailey …, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health. Nothing can keep us apart, as long as you come back to me. Because I fucking swear I’ll never cheat on you, and you’ll be my everything, always.”

God, what is he doing to me? My tears are cool tracks rolling down my cheeks. I have a lump in my throat.

“Believe in us, Hailey,” he says. “I want to spend my life with you. It took my memory disappearing and then my life flashing in front of my eyes to see what an idiot I was not to ask you sooner, but…will you be mine?”

“Turn the car around,” I whisper, my voice hoarse. I wipe at my cheeks, smiling when Kaden smiles back, as if he can see me. “Take me back, please.”

Without a word, the driver does as I ask him to, doing a totally illegal U-turn and diving back into the traffic.

This is it. I can’t expect any more miracles.

Now it’s really up to me to get my man and find my happily ever after.

* * *

I see him when the Uber stops. He’s sitting on the steps of his building and looking at him, I forget how to breathe.

He has his hands in his hair, his face turned away. His shoulders are slumped. He looks crushed.

And my throat closes up thinking I did that to him.

I climb out of the car so fast my purse snags on the door handle, and then the driver yells that I need to get my suitcase, too.

Crap.

I turn back, haul my small suitcase out of the back seat, slam the door shut and start toward Kaden.

He doesn’t notice me until I’m standing right in front of him.

And then his face does a funny shift from dejected to surprised to happy, a light brightening his jade-green eyes. He doesn’t try to get up, and I can’t imagine what it cost him to climb down those stairs like he obviously did.

He did come after me.

But the guilt is lost in a wave of joy when he pulls me down and cradles me in his lap, right there, on the sidewalk, with everyone watching.

Well, I guess they are. I don’t give a damn, because all that matters is the man crushing me to his chest.

The man I love. The only one for me.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “For everything. Sorry I was so paranoid I thought you cheated on me, sorry I walked out again—”

His mouth covers mine, stopping my apology. Then he pulls back, and his eyes are serious. “All that matters, baby, is that you came back.”