Chapter 2

*Last summer*

The beach house in the Miami was supposed to be Sienna's escape. Two weeks away from the city, from the constant pressure, from the endless talks about her future. Her mother thought she needed time to "find herself" before the family started making serious marriage plans.

If only she knew how right she was.

The house sat on a cliff overlooking the ocean, all glass and white stone. Beautiful in the cold way that expensive things were beautiful. But tonight, she didn't want beautiful. She wanted real.

That was how she ended up at the bonfire on the public beach.

She could see it from her bedroom window. The orange glow against the dark sky, the shapes of people dancing around the flames. People her age who were just living.

She slipped out after midnight, trading silk pajamas for jeans and a t-shirt. If the security guard her father insisted on woke and found her gone, her parents would know by dawn. But she was too restless to care.

The sand was cool beneath her bare feet as she walked toward the light and laughter.

The fire crackled and sparked, sending embers into the night sky. Someone had a guitar. Someone else had a cooler full of beer. Everyone was golden in the firelight, alive and free.

She stood at the edge of the group, suddenly shy. She didn't know how to do this. How to be normal.

"You look lost."

The voice came from behind her. She turned and her breath caught.

He sat on a piece of driftwood, camera in his hands. The firelight played across his face, highlighting the strong line of his jaw, the ink that covered his arms. A silver earring caught the light when he moved. His camera lens caught the flame, and for a second she thought it wasn't just fire that burned in his eyes.

"I'm not lost," she said, though it wasn't entirely true. "Just watching."

He lowered the camera and really looked at her. His eyes were dark brown. The color of coffee. Of sin.

"You're not from around here," he said.

"What gave it away?"

"The way you're standing. Like you're waiting for permission to breathe." He stood up, tall and broad beneath his black t-shirt. "I'm Landon."

"Sienna."

"Well, Sienna, you want to sit? Fire's warmer up close."

She should go back. Blakes didn't sit around bonfires with tattooed strangers who saw too much.

But she sat.

He offered her a beer from the cooler. She had never had beer from a bottle before.

It tasted like freedom.

"What do you do?" she asked, nodding toward his camera.

"I take pictures. Try to capture truth." He took a drink. "What about you?"

"I..." The question caught her off guard. What did she do? She went to charity lunches. She attended board meetings for organizations she didn't care about. She smiled and nodded and waited for someone else to decide her future.

"I don't really do anything."

"Everyone does something."

"Not me. I just exist."

He studied her for a long moment. "That sounds lonely."

It was. God, it was so lonely. But she had never said it out loud before.

"Sometimes," she whispered.

Her phone buzzed. A text from Noah. *Hope you're having a good time at the beach house. Thinking of you.*

Her stomach twisted. She turned the phone off without answering.

"You want to get out of here?" Landon asked suddenly.

"Where would we go?"

"Does it matter?"

For the first time in her life, the destination didn't matter.

"What if someone sees me?"

"Who's going to see you out here?"

He leaned closer, his voice dropping low. "You scared of getting caught being real?"

Yes. Terrified. Because getting caught meant facing consequences, and she had never been brave enough to face consequences before.

"Maybe," she whispered.

"Good," he said, standing and offering his hand. "You should be scared. Means it matters."

She stared at his outstretched hand. This was her choice. Take it and step into something dangerous. Or go back and pretend this night never happened.

She took his hand.

He led her away from the fire, down the beach where the sand was soft and the waves crashed against the shore. They walked in silence, the ocean stretching endlessly beside them.

"Tell me something real," he said when they stopped walking.

"What do you mean?"

"Something true. Something that matters."

She thought about all the proper answers she had been trained to give. But standing here with him, she wanted to tell the truth.

"I'm supposed to get engaged soon. My parents and his parents have it all planned out. The merger, the wedding, the life we're supposed to have together."

"And you don't want it?"

"I don't know what I want. I've never been allowed to figure it out."

He stopped walking and turned to face her. "What if you could have anything? Right now. What would you choose?"

"I'd choose to feel something real. Just once."

The words hung in the air between them. Dangerous. Honest. True.

"I can show you real," he said, his voice rough. "But you're going to remember this night long after you wish you could forget it."

The warning should have scared her.

Instead, it made her want him more.

"Show me."

He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her.

The world stopped.

This was nothing like the polite kisses she'd had before. This was fire and hunger and desperation. His hands tangled in her hair, pulling her closer. She could feel the ocean breeze against her skin, the soft sand beneath her feet. Could taste the beer on his tongue and something else, something that was purely him.

When he pulled back, she was gasping.

"Your place or mine?" he asked, his voice rough with want.

She thought about the beach house. The pristine white rooms. The place where she was supposed to be perfect, even when alone.

"Yours," she breathed.

He took her hand and led her to a small cottage set back from the beach. Weathered wood and windows that looked out onto the ocean.

She paused at the threshold, heart pounding. The point of no return.

"You sure about this?" he asked, reading her hesitation.

When he looked at her like that, like she was something precious and dangerous, she forgot everything.

"Yes."

He kissed her again, slower this time. Deeper. Like he was trying to memorize the taste of her. His hands found the hem of her t-shirt and pulled it over her head.

The cotton fell to the floor.

"You're beautiful," he said, his voice raw with honesty.

And for the first time in her life, she believed it.

He lifted her easily, carrying her to his bed. The sheets were soft and smelled like ocean air and him.

When he touched her, there was nothing gentle about it.

His hands mapped every inch of her skin. His mouth followed, leaving her gasping and shaking and begging for more.

"Please," she whispered against his ear.

"Please what?"

"Don't stop."

He laughed against her throat. "I'm just getting started."

When he finally moved over her, when he looked into her eyes and asked if she was sure, she had never been more certain.

"Yes."

He made love to her like the world was ending. Like this was the only moment that mattered.

She lost herself in him. In the way he said her name like a prayer. In the way he held her like she was something he was afraid to lose.

When it was over, they lay tangled together in his sheets. His fingers traced patterns on her bare shoulder. She could feel his heartbeat against her cheek, still racing.

"I should go," she whispered, even though it was the last thing she wanted.

"Should you?"

She lifted her head to look at him. His hair was messy from her fingers. His eyes were dark and satisfied and something else she couldn't name.

"I don't even know your last name," she said.

"Does it matter?"

Lying here in his arms, nothing else seemed important.

"No," she admitted. "It doesn't."

He pulled her closer, and she let herself pretend this was real. That she was the kind of woman who followed her heart instead of her obligations.

They made love again as the sun started to rise. Slower this time. Sweeter. Like they were trying to make it last forever.

But forever had to end.

When she woke up, he was gone.

There was a note on the pillow beside her, written in dark ink on paper torn from a notebook.

*You're going to be okay. Don't let them make you forget who you really are.*

She held the note to her chest and cried. For him. For her. For the night that changed everything and the morning that took it all away.

She got dressed and walked back to the beach house as the sun rose over the ocean. She couldn't stop herself from looking back at the cottage, hoping to catch one last glimpse of him.

It was already empty. Like he had never been there at all.

Back at the house, she took a shower that washed away the physical evidence but couldn't touch the memories. She folded the note carefully and hid it in the bottom of her jewelry box, beneath the pearls her grandmother had given her.

Her one rebellion. Her one secret.

Two weeks later, she was back in the city. Back to charity lunches and board meetings.

Three days after that, her father told her supposed boyfriend Noah Callahan wanted to marry her.

She said yes.

Because that was what Blake women did. They took what they were given and didn't ask for more.

But when she remembered strange arms around her, she wanted to say no.

Sometimes, in the dark of night, she would touch the note hidden in her jewelry box and remember what it felt like to want something just for herself.

She remembered him.

And she knew she always would.

Chapter 3

Time stopped.

Sienna stared at the hand Landon held out to her. Those fingers. She knew those fingers. Had felt them trace patterns on her skin, cup her face, tangle in her hair while he whispered her name in the dark.

Now they waited for a polite handshake.

Her chest felt tight. Like someone had wrapped chains around her ribs and was pulling. The ballroom was full of people but all she could see was him.

"Sienna?" Noah's voice came from somewhere far away. "You okay? You look..."

Pale. She knew she looked pale. She could feel the color draining from her face.

She forced her hand to move. Reached out. Let her fingers touch his.

Lightning shot up her arm.

The same spark. The same fire. He felt it too. His jaw tightened, something flashed in his dark eyes before his face went blank.

"Nice to meet you," he said. His voice was steady. Controlled. Like they were strangers at a business meeting.

Like he had never kissed her until she could not breathe.

Like that night meant nothing.

"You too," she managed to whisper. The words felt like glass in her throat.

Their hands dropped. The moment broke. But her whole body was shaking now. Tiny tremors that started in her fingertips and spread outward.

"Landon's a photographer," Noah said, his arm sliding around her waist. "Travels all over the world. Must be exciting."

"It has its moments," Landon replied. He was looking at Noah now. Not at her. Like she had already been dismissed.

The words hit her like a slap.

"What kind of photography?" she heard herself ask. Her voice sounded strange. High and thin.

"Street photography mostly. Real people living real lives." He shrugged. "Nothing fancy. Nothing that would interest someone like you."

Someone like you. The words were polite but they cut deep. Someone rich. Someone privileged. Someone living in a world of appearances.

Someone not worth his time.

She wanted to scream. Wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake him until he admitted he remembered. Until he admitted that night had mattered.

Instead she smiled. The same empty smile she'd been wearing her whole life.

"That sounds fascinating," she lied.

More people came over to welcome Landon home. He handled them all with the same polite coldness he'd shown her.

She watched him slip through the crowd like a shark forced into a tux. Every handshake a calculated strike. He knew exactly what to say. Knew exactly how to play the game.

But she could see the anger underneath. The way his hands clenched when he thought no one was looking.

He hated this. All of it.

He hated her too. That much was clear.

The band started playing again. Couples moved onto the dance floor. Noah took her hand.

"Shall we?" he asked.

She let him lead her onto the floor. Let him spin her around while cameras flashed and people applauded. The perfect couple celebrating their perfect engagement.

But over Noah's shoulder, Landon watched them dance. His face was a mask but his eyes burned with something dark and dangerous.

Hatred. It had to be hatred.

What else could it be?

The song ended. Noah dipped her low and the crowd cheered. More pictures. More congratulations.

Eleanor Callahan appeared beside them, her face glowing. "That was beautiful, you two. Just beautiful." She clasped her hands together. "Noah, darling, don't you think now would be the perfect time?"

Noah's face lit up. "You're right, Mother. Absolutely right."

Sienna felt her stomach drop. "Perfect time for what?"

"Ladies and gentlemen," Noah called out, his voice carrying across the ballroom. The band stopped playing. Conversations died. Every head turned.

"If I could have your attention for just a moment," Noah continued, reaching into his jacket pocket.

No. No, no, no.

But he was already dropping to one knee. Already pulling out a velvet box. Already opening it to reveal the biggest diamond she'd ever seen.

Eight carats. Maybe more. It caught the light and threw rainbows across the walls. The crowd gasped. Champagne corks popped somewhere behind her. The sound was like small explosions.

This was not the same ring. The first time Noah had proposed, three months ago in the privacy of his penthouse, he'd given her a three carat diamond. Beautiful. Expensive.

This was different. This was a statement. A declaration. A piece meant for public consumption.

"Sienna Blake," Noah said, his voice strong and clear. "You have made me the happiest man alive. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

The diamond sparkled in his outstretched hand. Pure, flawless perfection. Stunning. Worth more than most people would see in a lifetime.

It was also a shackle.

She could feel three hundred pairs of eyes watching her. Waiting. The cameras kept flashing. Someone's perfume was too strong, making her stomach turn.

Her mother stood at the edge of the crowd, tears streaming down her face. Her father nodded approvingly. Eleanor Callahan had her hands pressed to her heart.

And there, in the back of the room, stood Landon. His face was stone. His eyes were ice.

But for just a second, she caught it. A tiny crack in the mask. His jaw twitched. His hands clenched at his sides. Something raw flashed across his face before he buried it.

He did remember.

And it was killing him too.

She thought about the three carat stone she'd worn for months. The one Noah had given her during his first proposal. The one she'd slipped off her finger in the park just days ago.

This one was bigger. More expensive. More beautiful.

It would be an even tighter prison.

"Sienna?" Noah's voice was soft but urgent. He was still on one knee. Still waiting.

The crowd was getting restless. The silence stretched. Someone coughed. Someone shifted their feet.

Say no. The thought came from somewhere deep inside her. Wild and dangerous and desperate. Say no and run. Say no and choose yourself for once.

But then she looked at her mother's face. The pride and hope shining in her eyes. Her father nodding. Eleanor Callahan with her hands pressed to her heart.

The Blake family name. The business merger. The expectations of three hundred people.

And somewhere in the back of the room, Landon. Watching. Waiting to see what she'd do.

Part of her wanted to say yes just to hurt him back. To show him she didn't care either. That she could move on just as easily as he'd walked away from her. The pettiness of it shocked her but it was there, real and ugly. And maybe, just maybe, if she said yes loud enough, clear enough, she could convince herself it was true. That she'd moved on. That what happened between them meant nothing now.

Maybe saying yes was the only way to prove she was over him.

Even if it was a lie.

She swallowed the word no. Buried it deep where all her other rebellions went to die.

"I..." she started, her voice barely a whisper.

The silence stretched longer. People were starting to murmur.

"Yes," she finally choked out. The word felt like swallowing glass.

"I'm sorry?" Noah said, leaning closer. "I couldn't hear you."

"Yes," she said louder. Strong enough for the cameras to catch. Strong enough for Landon to hear. "Yes, I'll marry you."

The room erupted. Applause thundered. More champagne corks popped like gunfire. The band started playing.

Noah slipped the band onto her finger. It anchored her hand. So heavy she could barely lift it. He stood and kissed her while the crowd cheered.

Over his shoulder, Landon turned and walked away.

He didn't look back.

The rest of the night passed in a blur. More congratulations. More pictures. More speeches about the joining of two great families.

Sienna smiled through all of it. Showed off her new diamond. Let people gush over its size. Played the part of the happy bride to be.

But inside, she felt hollowed out.

Nothing except the weight dragging her hand down.

The party finally ended around two in the morning. The last guests headed to their cars. The staff began cleaning up.

"That was perfect," Eleanor said, hugging Sienna tight. "Absolutely perfect. It looks beautiful on you, dear. And now we're truly family." She squeezed Sienna's hands, her eyes bright with satisfaction. "Blood and marriage. Nothing stronger than that."

The words felt like a warning. Like chains being locked into place.

"Thank you," Sienna replied automatically.

"We should start planning the wedding right away," Eleanor continued. "June would be lovely. Or maybe May. We'll need to book the cathedral soon."

Planning the wedding. Of course. Because now that she'd said yes, everything else would follow. The dress. The flowers. The music. The rest of her life mapped out in careful detail.

"That sounds wonderful," she said because it was what was expected.

Noah drove her home to the Blake estate. When they reached her house, he walked her to the door.

"Thank you for tonight," he said, taking her hands. "For saying yes. For making me the luckiest man in the world."

"Thank you for this," she said, looking down at the massive stone. "It's beautiful."

"Not as beautiful as you." He kissed her forehead. His cologne was expensive. Subtle. Nothing like the scent of salt and sand she remembered from that night. "Sweet dreams, my love. I'll call you tomorrow and we can start making plans."

She watched him drive away, then let herself into the dark house. Her parents had stayed at the party later, probably discussing wedding details with the Callahans.

She climbed the stairs to her room and sat down at her vanity. The diamond threw a cold rainbow across her skin.

She opened her jewelry box and found the note hidden beneath her grandmother's pearls. The paper was soft and worn from being folded and unfolded so many times.

*You're going to be okay. Don't let them make you forget who you really are.*

Her hands shook as she held it. The note felt like it was burning her fingers. Like it was mocking her.

She had forgotten. She had let them make her forget. And now it was too late.

"Landon," she whispered into the dark room. The name tasted like regret. Like everything she'd lost and would never get back.

She hated herself for saying it. Hated herself for still caring about a man who had looked right through her tonight.

The stone caught the lamplight. Beautiful and heavy and cold.

Like a shackle around her finger.

Tightening with every breath.

Chapter 4

The next morning came too soon.

Sienna woke to sunlight and eight carats of diamond on her finger. It caught the light and threw rainbows across her ceiling. Beautiful. Cold. Heavy.

Her phone buzzed. Noah.

*Good morning, beautiful. Can't wait to see you today.*

She stared at the text until the words blurred. Last night. When she said yes to a ring that felt like a chain. When she watched the man she loved walk away without looking back.

*Can't wait to see you too.*

The lie came easier now.

Noah picked her up at noon in his black Mercedes. Hair styled perfect. Suit tailored. Smile bright and genuine and full of love she couldn't return.

"You look tired," he said, kissing her cheek. "Did you sleep okay?"

"Fine. Just a long night."

"But worth it, right?" He lifted her hand to admire the ring. "Mother was right about the cut."

Of course Eleanor picked it out.

"It's beautiful," she said.

He drove them to Central Park and found a quiet spot. They sat while joggers ran past and couples walked hand in hand.

"There are some things I want to talk about," Noah said. "About Landon."

Her stomach dropped.

"Landon left five years ago. Just packed up one day and disappeared. No goodbye. No explanation."

"Why?"

"Because he wanted to be free." Noah's voice was bitter. "Free from the family. Free from everything. He used to say the family was like a prison."

A prison. Just like the ring on her finger.

"We used to fight constantly when we were kids," Noah said. "Everything was a competition. He would break rules just because they existed. I followed them because that was what we were supposed to do. He called me a robot. I called him selfish."

Two little boys in the same golden cage. One rebelling. One conforming.

"What was he like?" she heard herself ask.

Noah was quiet. "Angry. Always angry. He got into fights everywhere. Father used to pay people off to keep his name out of the papers. Got arrested twice before he turned eighteen."

Each word felt like a knife. She was hearing about a stranger. Someone different from the man who whispered her name like a prayer.

Her purse sat heavy in her lap. Inside was the note. The one she carried everywhere like proof that night was real.

*You're going to be okay. Don't let them make you forget who you really are.*

"But he was brilliant too," Noah said, voice softening. "Especially with photography. Even as a kid, he could see things the rest of us missed. I was always jealous of that. He's very successful now. Made it on his own."

"So why did he come back?"

"I don't know. Mother begged him for years. He never answered. Then suddenly last week, he called and said he'd be at the party."

Last week. Right when she slipped her ring off in the park.

"I'm telling you this because I don't want you to get the wrong idea about him," Noah said. "Landon can be very persuasive. He makes people think they need saving. But he's selfish. He takes what he wants and leaves wreckage behind."

Wreckage. Is that what she was?

"Promise me, Sienna. Promise me you'll stay away from him."

She thought about saying no. About standing up and walking away from Noah and his ring and his carefully planned life.

But old habits were hard to break.

"I promise," she heard herself say.

One day I won't let them script my life, she thought. But not today.

Noah's phone rang. Eleanor.

"What? Tonight?" Noah's face changed. "Yes, of course. We'll be there."

He hung up. "Family dinner tonight. Mother wants to celebrate our engagement. The whole family."

"Landon will be there," Noah said.

Everything could go wrong, she thought.

***

Six hours later, Sienna stood in front of her mirror. Black dress. Simple. Conservative. Black heels.

She arrived at the Callahan estate thirty minutes early. Noah was still at the office. She was walking up the front steps when the door opened.

Landon stepped out.

They both froze.

Camera bag over his shoulder. Dark jeans and black t-shirt. Hair messy like he'd been running his hands through it.

Beautiful.

"Sienna," he said. His voice was empty.

"Hello," she whispered.

He looked at her for one second. Then he brushed past her without another word. Like she was a stranger.

His shoulder bumped hers. The contact sent electricity through her body but he didn't pause.

She watched him walk to a motorcycle. Black. Dangerous looking. He threw his leg over and started the engine. The sound was loud and rough and angry.

He drove away without looking back.

Two minutes that left her feeling torn apart.

Eleanor opened the door. "Sienna, darling. You're early. Did you see Landon?"

"Yes. We passed each other."

"He'll be back soon. Come in."

The Callahan dining room was massive. Crystal glasses. Fine china. White roses everywhere.

Noah was already there with his father. Richard Callahan seemed different tonight. Colder. Like he was studying her for flaws.

"Landon should be here any minute," Eleanor said. "He's staying here at the house now. I'm so happy to have my family back together."

The sound of a motorcycle announced Landon's return. Sienna's stomach twisted.

He walked in like nothing had happened. White button down, sleeves rolled up to show tattoos.

He looked real. Dangerous. Alive.

Everything Noah was not.

"Sorry I'm late. Traffic was insane."

"You're here now," Eleanor beamed. "Come, sit."

The seating was torture. Noah at the head. Sienna to his right. Landon directly across from her.

She couldn't escape his eyes.

The first course was served. Soup she couldn't taste.

"So, Landon," Richard said. "Five years is a long time to be away from family."

"Yes, it is."

"And now you're back. For good?"

"We'll see."

"That's not really an answer."

"It's the only answer I have."

The tension was thick. Noah shifted uncomfortably. Eleanor chattered about the weather.

"Your photography business," Noah said suddenly. "It's going well?"

"Well enough."

"I saw the Vogue cover last month. It was good."

"Thank you."

"I always said you had talent."

"Is that what you told people?" Landon's voice was sharp. "That I had talent? Or did you tell them I was wasting my life?"

"Landon," Eleanor warned.

"No, it's fine," Noah said, jaw tight. "He has a right to be angry. I wasn't supportive when he left."

"Supportive?" Landon laughed without humor. "You told Father I was throwing my life away. You said I'd come crawling back within a year."

"I was wrong," Noah said quietly.

"Yes. You were."

The second course arrived. Fish. Sienna pushed it around her plate.

"So, Sienna," Eleanor said. "Have you and Noah set a date yet?"

"We're still discussing it."

"I vote for spring. April or May."

"Spring sounds perfect," Noah agreed.

"What about you, Landon?" Eleanor asked. "Don't you think spring would be lovely for a wedding?"

Landon's eyes met Sienna's. Something raw flashed across his face.

"I think," he said slowly, eyes burning into hers, "that the season doesn't matter. What matters is whether the bride and groom actually want to marry each other."

Her purse slipped from her lap.

Everything scattered. Lipstick rolling. Keys clattering.

And the note.

The paper hit the floor. In the sudden silence, every fork stopped. Every conversation died.

The note slid across the polished marble toward Landon's feet.

Sienna's pulse pounded in her throat. She couldn't breathe. Couldn't move.

Landon stared down at the paper. For one second. Two. Three.

Then he bent and picked it up.

His fingers unfolded it. Careful. Deliberate.

She watched his face as he read the words he'd written months ago.

*You're going to be okay. Don't let them make you forget who you really are.*

The color drained from his face. His hands trembled.

Their eyes met across the table.

He remembered everything.

Chaos erupted.

Eleanor gasped. Richard's chair scraped. Noah's face went from confused to angry.

"What the hell is that?" Noah demanded, reaching for the paper.

But Landon held it away. His eyes locked on Sienna's face.

"Nothing," Landon said. "Just trash."

He crumpled the note in his fist. The sound echoed in the silent room.

"I need some air," Sienna said, standing so fast her chair nearly fell. "Excuse me."

She fled. Her heels clicked against the marble floor. Her chest felt tight.

Outside, the October air was cold. She leaned against a stone pillar and tried to breathe.

He knew.

The front door opened. Heavy footsteps.

She didn't need to turn around.

"Sienna."

His voice was ice.

She turned slowly. Her stomach dropped at his face. Cold. Distant.

"We need to talk," he said.

Her heart jumped.

"About what?"

"About that note. About whatever you've convinced yourself happened."

The words hit like a slap. "What I convinced myself?"

"It was one night, Sienna. One hookup." He said it casually but his jaw was tight. "Nothing more."

Her nails dug into her palms. "You wrote me a note."

"I've written a lot of notes." He shrugged but his shoulders were tense. "Doesn't mean anything."

"You're lying."

"You were there. I was bored. That's all." His voice was empty but there was something underneath. Something raw.

She watched his hands. Clenched at his sides. Knuckles white.

"I don't believe you."

"Believe what you want." He pulled out his phone and scrolled. His thumb moved too fast. "There have been others. Plenty of others."

The photos flashed by. Blonde hair. Brown hair. Red hair.

Her stomach turned. "Stop."

"Why? This is what you wanted, right?" But his voice caught slightly.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?"

"Being so cruel."

For just a second, something raw flashed across his face. Pain. Fear.

But then it was gone.

"I'm just being honest." But he wouldn't meet her eyes.

"You held me that night. You were gentle."

His throat worked as he swallowed. "So?"

"So you cared."

"Don't confuse good sex with feelings."

The words should have destroyed her. But she was watching his face. The muscle jumping in his jaw. The way he kept glancing at her and looking away.

Something shifted inside her. Certainty cutting through the pain.

"You're scared," she said.

His eyes snapped to hers. "What?"

"You're terrified. That's what this is. You're pushing me away because you're scared."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't I?" She took a step toward him. He took a step back. "You remembered me. You remembered everything. And it scared you."

"You're delusional."

"Then look me in the eye and tell me that night meant nothing."

He opened his mouth. Closed it. His hands were shaking.

"Tell me," she said. "Look at me and tell me you didn't feel anything."

"I didn't feel anything," he said. But he was staring at her mouth.

"Liar."

"Sienna." His voice broke on her name.

"I kept your note," she whispered. "I carried it everywhere. I thought about you every day."

"That was your mistake."

"Was it?" She moved closer. "Because I think you thought about me too."

"You're wrong."

"Then why are your hands shaking?"

He shoved his hands in his pockets. "They're not."

"Why won't you look at me?"

His eyes finally met hers. And for one second, everything fell away. She saw the want. The pain. The fear. The love he was trying to bury.

Then the ice was back.

"You want the truth?" he said quietly. "Fine. You were nothing special."

Each word was designed to hurt. To push her away.

But she saw his hands curl into fists in his pockets. Saw his breathing get shallow.

"I don't believe you," she said. "And I don't think you believe it either."

"Sienna?" Noah's voice called from inside. "Are you out there?"

Panic flashed across Landon's face before he could hide it.

"Go," he said roughly. "Go back inside."

"What about you?"

"I'll be gone soon enough."

"Will you really forget me?"

He looked at her then. Really looked at her. And for just a moment, she saw him. The real him.

"I already have," he said.

But his voice broke when he said it.

The front door opened. Noah appeared.

"There you are," he said. "I was worried. Everything okay?"

"Fine," Sienna said, wiping her eyes. "Just needed some air."

"And you?" Noah asked his brother.

"Same," Landon said. Steady again. The mask back.

But when Noah turned to take Sienna's hand, she saw Landon's face in the shadows.

Broken.

Just like hers.

Noah led her back inside. Back to the dining room and the life she was supposed to want.

As they walked through the door, she didn't look back.

But she knew Landon was watching her go.

And she knew the truth now. He was lying. About all of it. He remembered. He cared. He was just too terrified to admit it.

Which meant their story was nowhere near over.