The next morning, I sat on my couch, clutching a cup of coffee to my chest after only two hours of sleep. I glared at my phone as notification after notification popped up on the lock screen. I wanted to kill him for saying my name on that video.

I swiped out of my lock screen. I was alone. I didn’t have work that day, so if the video caused me to have a mental breakdown, at least I could go crawl back in bed. It was obvious this wasn’t going away anytime soon, so I might as well get it out of the way.

I searched his name and took my pick of links to follow, waiting as the video loaded. The little circle seemed to spool forever. Finally, the play button popped up and, with a deep breath, I pressed it.

The camera shook as Noah steadied it. “Damn, it’s windy out here,” he said. Wind rustled across the speakers, catching his dark hair. I could just make out what looked like an empty arena behind him. “I have a favor to ask y’all—” His gaze strayed down, and he grinned. “Hey Sarah, hey Jen. Thanks, Katie. Alright, so you know I suck at these Facebook live video things, but…” He exhaled before rubbing his lips together. “There’s this girl I need to find. I met her over a year ago, and man, she just kinda stole my heart, even though I didn’t think I had a heart to steal.” He looked right at the camera and my heart held back a few beats. My throat tightened. I could smell him, taste him… the memory is a sadistic little demon sometimes. “She’s the girl I write all my songs about. I guess…” An uneasy laugh slipped through his lips and he rubbed the back of his neck. “I guess I thought—I hoped that maybe she’d hear them and realize how much she meant to me. I don’t guess she has though. She’s the only thing that’s ever made me happy, and I just kinda”—shrugging, he shook his head—“let her walk away. Or I walked away. I don’t know, all I know is I let her go when I shouldn’t have. I still think about her every day. Every night before I go to bed.” I set my coffee down, my heart banging against my ribs. “But I can’t find her. I went back home to Rockford, and she’d left to do some traveling nurse thing.” My vision blurred behind tears. He wasn’t even looking at the camera. “So, if any of you know a pretty girl with dark hair and brown eyes that looks like she belongs in a country video, named Hannah Blake, that’s my girl. Tell her I need to talk to her. Tell her I should have fought for her…” He looked at the screen for a second, I guess reading over the comments most likely clogging up his feed. “Every song, Tammy. Every song was written for her. If you know her, let me know.”

The phone shook before the video froze and went into another recommended video of some kid dancing in a diaper. I let go of the breath I didn’t realize I was holding, then I dropped the phone to the couch and swiped a hand over my mouth. Every song he’d written felt like it was us. When his album came out, it ripped open a new wound, but I convinced myself those songs were about every girl he’d been with. I’d convinced myself I was just another girl lost among the numbers. I had to, but now… I swallowed and inhaled a shaky breath before I picked my phone back up and stared at it. I could just find his number and call him. I could unblock him from Facebook and shoot him a message.

It shouldn’t have been so difficult, but when I went to unblock him, my finger hovered over the button. Noah hadn’t done anything terrible to me, and that’s what had made it so hard. All the memories I held of him were sweet, beautiful, and maybe that’s why they hurt so badly. He didn’t hurt me, I hurt myself because I fell for someone I had no business falling for.

And I had to forgive myself for that before I could do anything.

I spent most of that late afternoon at the beach, watching the waves. Thinking. I stayed until the orange sun melted behind the horizon, and once the stars came out, I looked up and smiled.

There were so many. So many glittering diamonds.

Finally, I pushed to my feet and dusted the sand from my legs before crossing the street back to my apartment. As soon as I rounded the corner of the stairwell, I froze. A guy was sitting on the welcome mat with his back pressed against my door. The bill to a dark blue ball cap was pulled over his face, and his heavily tattooed arm draped over his knee, the raven’s feather noticeable from where I stood, my feet glued to the spot. My pulse clanged in my ears as a nervous heat drowned my body. I went to say something but lost the words when my keys dropped from my trembling hands to the concrete with a soft clink.

He lifted his chin and glanced over at me before pushing to his feet. “Hey, you,” he whispered as he timidly closed the space between us. My eyes drifted from his face down the front of his white shirt. Instead of the worn out, secondhand shop clothes I was used to seeing him in, his clothes were neat and crisp. Designer. The rugged stubble on his face was perfectly shaped. It had been one thing seeing his pictures, hearing his voice, but seeing him this close after so long, it broke me all over again.

The spicy scent of redwood surrounded me, and I wanted to fall into it, but instead, I swallowed around the lump in my throat. “Hey.”

“God,” he said, slowly lifting his hand to my face and rubbing his callused fingers over my cheek. “I’ve thought about you every day. I never meant to hurt you, Hannah.”

Warm tears filled my eyes. “I know,” I lied.

“Do you?”

Unable to hold his gaze a moment longer, I glanced to the ground and shrugged a shoulder.

He exhaled. “It doesn’t matter, I shouldn’t have just walked away like that.” His thumb swept over my lip. “Forgive me.” He forced my chin up, his eyes pleading. “Please.”

I closed my eyes, knowing tears were going to seep out any minute. “I forgave you months ago.” The thing was, I only needed to forgive myself.

He leaned in, his lips pressing against mine in that reverent way only his could. The entire world crumbled around me in that moment. He tasted so familiar, so right, and as much as I wanted him—God, I wanted him— I knew I couldn’t handle it. I flattened my palms against his hard chest, my heart begging me not to as I gently pushed him away. “I can’t.”

His brow wrinkled as his eyes searched mine. “Don’t do this.” He hung his head. “Don’t fucking do this.”

“Noah, we aren’t those same people.” I took a step around him, knowing that even with the best intentions, he’d end up breaking what little there was left of my heart. “I’m here and you’re… there.”

“So move back.” A slow smile worked over his lips. “I can give you anything you want, I can take you to Paris, buy you a house in the—”

This was insane. “Noah, stop!” I exhaled. “Stop.”

“Hannah, I came all the way out here for you.” His face crumpled. “I—I left in the middle of a tour to come out here and—”

“I didn’t ask you to.” I shook my head. The regret that had been building in my chest billowed into a heavy cloud of resentment. Did he think he could just fly out here and I’d fall at his feet? Of course he did.

“Hannah, come on.”

I took a breath, narrowing my eyes on him. “Why now? Why not a week later, a month later?”

His jaw clenched. “You blocked me. Cut me out. What was I supposed to do? I did what I thought you wanted and left you alone.”

I dropped my chin to my chest. It was such a shame that we let our own insecurities tear us apart. But I knew how much losing him hurt, and he was no longer that bad boy from the wrong side of town. He was famous. If we couldn’t make things work when life was as simple as Rockford, how on earth could we make them work now? Only a fool would set themselves up for that kind of heartache twice. “It doesn’t matter.” I swiped my key from the ground and shoved it in the lock.

“The hell it doesn’t!” His voice echoed through the apartment breezeway. “I fucking love you, I’ve been in love with you since the first time I kissed you, so say what you want, but don’t you say it doesn’t matter!”

My breath caught, but all I could do was stare at the gold apartment number on my door. Common sense told me giving into him would be a disaster, maybe he was the right person, but this truly was the wrong time. But my heart—God, my heart was racing, pleading for me to not let him go as I reached for the doorknob. “I loved you too,” I whispered. I’d imagined telling Noah I loved him for so long, wondered how it may have changed things, and yet, that felt like a dagger right through the middle of my chest.

“Loved?” he laughed, not an arrogant laugh, but one full of vulnerability. “Fine, then why did you move here?”

I froze at the door.

“Why did you move here?” he repeated before stepping up behind me. His warm breath fanned over my neck and I closed my eyes, remembering what he felt like. Goosebumps scattered over my arms. “Because it was as far away as you could get? Well, you know what? This was my escape. This was my place to run to, so why on earth would you run here if you were running away from me?”

I clenched my teeth. No matter how much whatever it was between us hurt, there was still a peace I could only find in those moments. “I don’t know.”

He stood there breathing, and I stood staring at the ground. After a few seconds of silence, he stepped beside me. Dragging a hand down his face, he reached into his back pocket and brought out an envelope, handing it to me. “Here.”

I grabbed it from him, my brow wrinkling in confusion when my eyes landed on the cursive handwriting. “Where did you…”

“There was an entire packet waiting for me when I got home after the first half of the tour.” He shrugged and stepped across the walkway, leaning against the wall and propping one foot on the brick.

My chest tightened. “What?”

“I’d been gone for months. Months, I guess… I don’t know.” He sighed. “Look, I didn’t fly twenty hours to just say ‘hey’ and be on my way, so you take as much time as you need.” He pushed off the building. “I’m gonna go right over there and sit.” He pointed across the street at the beach. “Do whatever you need, think whatever you need to think through, but I’m not leaving.” Shaking his head, he walked down the breezeway and across the yard.

What am I doing? There are some moments in life that seem so surreal, that are so high on emotion, there is no logical reaction. Your head and heart war with each other, tearing you to shreds on the inside. You should. You shouldn’t. It’s so right, but what if it’s wrong? This topsy-turvy cycle of excitement and doubt, constantly swirling with fear. An unsteady anticipation formed in my chest and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to scream or cry. Over the past year, I’d painted him to be some guy I wasn’t so sure he was. I told myself he was a liar. I made myself believe that everything he said, every moment we shared wasn’t sincere. I allowed him to be the bad boy everyone swore he was, but, until he walked away I never believed he was. I’d turned him into the villain I needed him to be so I could go on with my life, to convince myself I hadn’t lost a thing.

But, I had. I’d lost so much.

I glanced back at the envelope in my hand, at my mother’s very distinct handwriting before pushing the door to my apartment open. How had he ended up with this? I didn’t even close the door before I slipped my finger underneath the edge of the flap and tore it open, unfolding the familiar stationery with pink and purple roses along the top.

My hand shook as I read over the first few lines:

My Dear Sweet Hannah,

I may not be able to hold you any longer, but I do believe that my soul will always follow you. I hope you feel that. And I hope you can forgive me for leaving you, I didn’t want to, but some things are beyond our control.

Death and love...

You’ve turned into such a wonderful, strong woman. I’m proud of you. Always know that you made me so proud, Hannah. Sweet and caring, loving. You were my reason for this life, I know that more than anything, and I can only hope that the life you lead once I’m gone will be everything you deserve.

We have one life, my dear. One. However short or long, that isn’t our choice, but the person we spend it with, that is our choice to make. And that is why I sent Noah your letters.

I hope you can forgive me, but you thought he didn’t fight for you. You can’t expect someone to fight for something they never knew was theirs to begin with. You loved him, that was evident to me, and the way he loved you—Hannah, listen to his songs. The poor boy sings those songs about loving you every single night. You told me it hurt too much to write those letters, imagine the pain he endures just to sing those songs to you. I’m convinced that’s why he sings them, hoping you’ll listen.

Love doesn’t have to make sense to work, it only needs to exist. And the most beautiful of flowers bloom in the most unlikely of places.

I love you, my dear, sweet Hannah, and I’ll miss you. Please, when you remember me, smile, I had a wonderful life, and maybe that’s why God took me sooner than we’d have liked, he knew I was already content.

You’ll forever be in my heart.

I love you,

Mother

If I closed my eyes, I could hear her voice. Tears streamed down my face, my breath caught on a soft cry. Even after she was gone, she tried to take care of me. How could I be upset with that?