Chapter Three

Mina

I flinch away from Grayson as soon as the words leave his lips, my mind a roar of confused chaos. Part of me is terrified that I'm dreaming and that he isn't real. That I'll wake up in my bed again in the morning, devastated all over again because this is just another damn dream.

The other part is terrified that this is real and he's really here. That he's really been alive all this time…and my whole world ended because he wanted it to end. All this time, he was out there. All this time, he could have come back.

And he didn't.

Which is worse? Being haunted by the ghost of the man you loved? Or realizing that he was never a ghost at all and simply didn't love you the same way you loved him?

I would have given anything to him. God, I gave up everything for him.

And he left me. He left Brinley.

Just to reappear now, standing on that freaking stage like his life didn't change at all. Did it hurt him at all to walk away? Did he think about me at all? Consider what it would do to me?

He reaches out for me, his expression so sad…but I don't believe it. I can't. Because his life didn't change at all. But mine did. Mine ended when he left, and it hasn't been the same since. Nothing has.

"Don't touch me," I whisper, scurrying across the couch away from him. "You don't get to touch me anymore."

Pain flows through his gray eyes, and I hate myself for it. I want to fling myself into his arms, tell him that I don't mean it. That I forgive him. That the past doesn't matter, and I don't care why he did what he did.

But I can't do that.

Because he didn't just leave me. He left our daughter, too. She's spent her whole life without a father because he walked away. My pain doesn't matter. Hers does.

"Baby, please," he whispers.

"Don't call me that," I growl, my voice shaking. "You don't get to call me that ever again, Grayson. You destroyed my life. You destroyed me. And now you say you came back for me? No. There is no coming back. You made your choice when you left me."

"I never would have left that day had I known…" He swallows hard.

"Had you known what? That you couldn't just waltz back into my life whenever you decided?" I hop up from the couch, pacing across the small room to put a little distance between us. "You may look like the same man you were back then, but I'm not the same girl, Grayson. You stopped being the center of my world when…"

"When what?"

"Doesn't matter," I quickly mutter. Sooner or later, I'll have to tell him about Brinley. But not yet. Not today.

"It matters to me. You matter to me."

I spin to face him, fury churning through me. "I matter to you? Did I matter when you left me when I needed you most, Grayson? Did I matter when you broke me? I've spent six years grieving you, wondering what happened to you. Only to find out that you…" I break off, choking on a sob. "Did you ever care at all or was I just a game to you? Just something to do until something better came along?"

"Mina," he whispers, striding toward me, his hands extended. Only then do I notice the scars across the backs of them. They disappear into his sleeves, an army of burn marks, as if his flesh nearly melted from his bones. They draw me up short, stealing my breath. Right up until he's standing in front of me, anyway, reaching for me again.

I stumble back a step, trying to keep him from touching me. Because if he does, if I feel those powerful arms around me, I'll crumble, dammit all. I have no willpower when it comes to him. I never have.

He's the only thing I've ever wanted. From the very first moment I set eyes on him, I wanted him. I never stopped. Not when my father cut me off. Not when I thought he was dead. Not even now, when he's standing in front of me, living proof that he never felt the same fierce love for me.

He was everything to me. And I was something so easily left behind for him.

"You kept me alive," he rasps, his eyes locked on my face. "When I lost everything, I clung to the image of you. When I couldn't remember my own goddamn name, I remembered your laugh. I'm here because of you, baby."

"And I've been in hell for six years," I whisper. "I waited for six years. I prayed for six years. I looked for you for six years. Where were you, Grayson? What happened?"

"I…" He shoves a hand through his long hair. "I don't remember everything, Mina."

"Right," I mutter.

"I'm serious. I woke up in a hospital in Mexico six years ago with no memories."

I stare at him in disbelief. "And what? You just magically ended up on that stage tonight? You just magically remembered me tonight?"

"I looked for you," he growls. "I tore Mexico apart looking for you. I came back here looking for you. But I couldn't fucking remember you."

"So you remembered me, but you didn't remember me?" As if that makes any sense. I shake my head, crossing my arms. "Right."

"No, goddammit. That's not what I'm saying. You haunted me, but I couldn't remember who you were. I looked, but I didn't know who I was looking for or if you even existed. I thought…" he trails off.

"Thought what?"

"That you were a figment of my imagination," he says bluntly. "Something my mind conjured up because I needed something about my fucking life to be real."

The way he says it…I almost believe him. Almost. Except he could never lie to me. I was always able to see straight through him. He's lying right now. I don't know why. I don't even know what parts of his story are made up. I don't guess it really matters. All that matters is that he's standing in front of me, real. And he's lying.

And I'm so damn tired. I can't do this anymore. I can't be here, standing in front of him when just looking at his gorgeous face hurts. I need to get out of here before I break. I feel it coming. The cracks are already forming.

"You have a concert," I mutter. "You should go do that."

"Mina, please," he pleads quietly. "Let me explain."

"You explained." I turn for the door. "I don't believe you. So I'm going home, and I'm going to pretend tonight didn't happen. I'm going to tell myself you died six years ago, and I didn't spend the last six years of my life mourning a man who never loved me. That's what I need to believe right now."

Because the truth is too damn tragic. I'm still in love with a man who spent six years letting me think he was dead. One who can't even tell me the truth now.

"I always loved you," he growls, grabbing me. Before I can even move, he has me pinned up against the wall, his body pressed to mine. He looms above me like a hot, pissed-off wall, his eyes on fire as he glowers down at me. "Even when I didn't think you were real, I loved you."

"Let me go," I whisper, hating the way his heat sears into me. Hating how familiar he feels pressed against me. Hating how much I don't hate it. God, this hurts. And yet…having him right here, pressed up against me feels exactly right. This is where I'm supposed to be. In his arms. He's supposed to be looking at me like he can't live without me.

This is the life I was supposed to have.

But it isn't mine.

It's a lie because I don't even know this man. I'm no longer sure I ever did.

"Hell no," he snarls, his lips inches from mine. "I will never let you go, Mina. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not fucking ever, baby. You're my wife."

His lips come down on mine, his kiss hard. And damn me to hell, but I don't stop him. I don't fight him. I don't even resist him. I kiss him back, practically sobbing into his mouth as my body ignites, heat rushing through me in a molten wave. It's bright, white, exquisite torture.

And it's the only thing real between us.

The rest was just a lie. It was always a lie. I was just too na?ve to see it.

I bite his bottom lip hard, shoving him away from me.

He growls, bringing his thumb up to his bottom lip. His eyes glitter as he wipes away a drop of blood. Even now, when I want to hate him, he's still the most beautiful man I've ever seen, fierce in his desire. His cheeks are flushed, his pupils blown wide. He's a fortress, standing tall and strong.

But he isn't mine. Not anymore.

"I'm not your wife," I whisper, grasping for the door. "You were legally declared dead four years ago. And you're still dead to me. So stay the hell away from me, Grayson."

I throw myself out of the green room, my heart pounding in my ears. I don't wait around for him to follow me. I take off down the hall, running as fast as I can.

When I reach the end and glance back, he isn't behind me.

That hurts more than it should.

Brinley's sleeping when I get home. I pay the babysitter and then head straight to her room, desperately needing to set eyes on her.

I crack her door open and peek inside. Like always, she's sprawled across her bed, her blankets all twisted around her. One little foot hangs off the side of the bed. One pillow is on the floor. But she still has her favorite teddy bear clutched in her hand.

I smile at the sight and tiptoe inside to fix the mess she made of her bed and kiss her goodnight. She huffs in her sleep when I untwist the blankets from around her ankle and cover her with them.

"Goodnight, lovebug," I whisper, brushing my lips across her forehead.

"Mommy." Her little eyes flutter partially open. "You're home."

"Yeah, lovebug, I'm home." I brush my fingers through her wild hair. "Did you have fun with Jen tonight?"

"Yes." She meets my gaze. "Did you meet Kasen?"

"Afraid not."

Her bottom lip pokes out.

"You'll just have to meet him yourself," I murmur, tapping her on the nose. "Get some sleep. We have a big day tomorrow."

"Do I have to start school, Mommy?"

"Yeah, sweetheart, you have to start school," I say, chuckling. "But if you're good, we'll go do something afterward. Deal?"

"Deal." Her eyes flutter before they settle on me again. "You look sad."

"I'm not sad," I lie, my throat tight. "Just tired."

"Me too."

"Then go to sleep, silly girl."

"Okay."

"I love you forever."

"Love you forever," she whispers back, already drifting back to sleep.

I watch her for a long moment, tears blurring my vision. How the hell am I going to tell her that her dad is alive? That he's always been alive and just decided to disappear in Mexico?

I don't even know where to begin. I can't wrap my mind around it myself. The whole way home, I tried to process it, but I can't. Aside from the scars, he looks the same. He's older, a little harder, but he's the same damn man who used to hold me so close I felt like nothing would ever come between us.

What happened? How did we go from that to…whatever this is? Why did he just leave? If he wanted out, why not just tell me? It doesn't make sense.

I brush my hand through Brinley's hair again, sigh, and then tiptoe out of her bedroom, my mind a swirl of confusion. Part of me wants to believe that he really did wake up in a hospital with no memories. I desperately want to cling to hope that every prayer I've ever spoken was answered tonight. But I'm terrified that I'm wrong.

I'm terrified that he walked away. And I'm equally as terrified that I'm wrong and I just blew up my second chance—that I blew up Brinley's chance.

But more than any of that…I'm terrified of what happens if I let him back in and lose him again. I survived it once. I can't do it again.