“What’s that?”

Lawrence trains his eyes on me, a rueful gleam illuminating his green gaze. “Shall we call it the need to love and be loved in return?”

Later in the evening, we’re standing outside the restaurant. The summer breeze is warm against my skin and makes strands of my hair fly wildly in different directions. As we look at each other silently, sadness fills me from within, sorrow gripping my heart with its sharp nails. A gut feeling tells me that this is the last time that we’ll see each other, and I’m not ready for that.

A knot forms in my stomach. “So is this good-bye?”

He stares at me and without saying a word, I already know the answer. I can see it in his eyes.

“Lawrence, I—”

“Don’t say it, Blaire. Don’t say something that you’ll regret.”

My eyes absorb the man standing in front of me, memorizing his features so dear to my heart. “I regret many things that happened between us, but I won’t ever regret you, Lawrence. Not you,” I add softly.

I love you.

Taking a step forward, I close the space between us. I place my hands on his shoulders, stand on my tiptoes, and kiss his cheek. I shut my eyes momentarily and breathe him in, losing myself in the past. Meeting him at the Met. Going to his estate for the first time. The taste of his kisses. The feel of his arms around me. The laughter. The friendship. Yes, most of all, the friendship. My friend. My lover.

As I’m moving away, I whisper in his ear, “I’ll always remember Coney Island.”

He doesn’t touch me. He doesn’t reach for me. My blood runs cold. It’s unfair to be this close to him, yet still so far.

“Good-bye, Blaire. Be kind to Parisian men and their hearts.”

I take a step back and begin to walk away from Lawrence. My feet are shaky. Don’t look back, Blaire. Don’t. Let him go.

When I reach the curb of the street, I hear Lawrence call out my name. I’m about to turn in the direction of his voice when his hand grips my arm, spinning me around, and he pulls me flush against his chest. Burying his fingers in my hair, his hands cradling my head, he dips his head and presses his mouth to mine.

A kaleidoscope of emotions burst inside me, stunning me with their intensity. And as he steals my breath away with a bruising kiss that makes every nerve in my body come alive, I see a different life flash by. Lawrence standing by the altar, his smiling eyes trained on me. Lawrence and I at the beach chasing two little boys who look just like him, their laughter, our laughter, filling my ears, creating music. Making love by the fireplace, slow, needy. It’s a beautiful life.

As he deepens the kiss, his tongue seeking mine, I allow myself to be swept away by him and the beautiful portrait in my mind. And for a short magic moment, somewhere between the past and the present, I yearn for that life. But deep down, I’m aware that it can never be. Not when my heart knows that Ronan is alive somewhere in this world.

Breathless and shaken, I bury my head in his chest while my arms go around his waist. I hold onto him tightly as I fight through the pain of finding him just to lose him all over again. Why is doing the right thing always so hard?

“My love, my darling, not a day goes by when I don’t remember,” he murmurs hoarsely. “But it’s time for me to let you go.”

Even after all these years, I know that I will always love Ronan with all my heart. I surrendered it to him willingly that night by the Bethesda Fountain. But as I watch Lawrence disappear into the crowd, I realize that he’s taken away with him a small part of me that I will never get back, leaving a hole in my chest that no man and no love will ever be able to replace. It will always belong to Lawrence.