Emma St. Clair

“I would rather risk everything for a chance than live another moment without you in my arms.”

“Yes. But he usually doesn’t forget. He’s been forgetting a lot of things lately.” Liam wrinkles his nose. “I’m never falling in love. It makes a mess of your life.”

Just what I need—more people to deal with.

“I love you, Mer. It was true then, it’s been true since, and it’s true now. It’ll be true forever.”

If any of that was true and Merritt doesn’t want any kids of her own, I’ll find a way to be on board. I have Isabelle. She’s enough. I’d love to have more children—ones with Merritt’s ocean eyes and her smile and her brains. But if that’s what she wants, I’ve made peace with that because more than anything, I want her.

As you might be able to tell, you’ve had a place in my life, in my heart, for years. Even if you weren’t here. But”—I glide my thumbs down her cheeks until I’m cupping her face—“to make it perfectly clear—I want you here. I want you to stay. I want the forever we talked about back then.”

“It’s wonderful, but I don’t feel quite like me,” I tell him.

Phillip smiles at me, his gaze tender. “You are beautiful in your work apron, beautiful when your hair is damp from the sea, and you are beautiful in this dress. You bring beauty wherever you are because it comes from inside.”

They say to keep your friends close and your enemies closer, but a more practical modern application is to keep your friends close and your sister’s boyfriend closer.

Right now, not even the tattered state of my heart matters, because when push comes to shove, Chevy still owns whatever shreds are left of it.

He trails off, the happy, boyish look fading into something so deeply painful that I wrap my arms around his waist, careful of his injuries.

“Is this okay?” I ask.

Chevy rests his chin on top of my head. “This feels like how I want to spend the rest of my life. Without the seventy-two stitches and the sling, that is