Prologue – The Past
Michael Briggston’s heart hammered in his throat as he tucked a bouquet of wildflowers—Bex’s favorite—under his arm and approached the door to the home she shared with his brother Wesley. For two years, he’d done his best to ignore the way he felt about Wesley’s girlfriend, and instead be satisfied with her friendship, but he couldn’t do it anymore. He was in love with her. Completely. Irrevocably. And he couldn’t help thinking that if she’d met him first, she’d have been his from the beginning. They fit together so much better than she did with Wesley. They were even closer in age, with him being thirty-one to her twenty-three, versus the full ten years between she and his brother.
He’d intentionally come by on an evening when he knew Wesley would be out. His brother’s position as an up-and-coming politician meant he attended meetings and community events many nights of the week. Bex, an artist, wasn’t a fan of the political scene and didn’t always join him. He stopped at the door and knocked.
“Hang on a moment,” she called from within. He hadn’t told her he was coming over, so she wasn’t expecting him. He’d been afraid he’d lose his nerve and not show up. After all, what he was about to do could ruin his relationship with his older brother and their parents, and Bex might not feel the same way. There were no guarantees. They were close, and he knew she saw him as an ally inside a family where neither of them truly belonged, but that didn’t necessarily mean much. She was a good person. Loyal to Wesley. She’d never given him any indication that she thought of him as anything other than a friend, but that hadn’t stopped him from dreaming.
The door swung open, and Bex greeted him with a vibrant smile.
“Michael! It’s such a surprise to see you.” She threw her arms open and he caught her just as she launched herself at him, a floral scent from her hair tickling his nose as one of his arms enclosed around her while he held the flowers to the side so they wouldn’t be crushed. For the briefest of moments, he allowed himself to envision this as his future. Coming home to a warm greeting from her every night. It would be a dream.
She stepped back, and flicked her dark hair over her shoulders, and her gaze latched onto the bouquet. “Are those for me?” She beamed. Joy radiated from her every pore.
Michael smiled tentatively. Things were looking good. Perhaps he had a chance.
She took the bouquet and inhaled deeply. “So good. I can’t believe you remembered my favorite.”
“I remember everything about you.”
“Oh, I get it.” Her eyes lit up. “Wesley told you. I didn’t realize he’d spoken to any of his family yet.”
“Told me what?” he asked, his heart sinking.
“I’m pregnant.” She hugged the flowers to her chest. “We’re having a baby.”
“Oh.” Michael’s world crashed down. All of his hopes evaporated in an instant. If Bex was pregnant, he couldn’t ask her to leave Wesley for him. He wasn’t a monster. Especially not when she was so clearly thrilled about it. “Congratulations.”
Her brows knitted together. “You didn’t know? Then what were the flowers for?”
“Don’t worry.” His fingernails dug into his palms as a sense of loss threatened to swallow him whole. “Was it planned?”
Her face fell momentarily. “No, and Wesley was a bit shocked, but I know he’ll come around.”
For her sake, he hoped so. But despite that, Michael wasn’t sure he could handle seeing her at every family event for the rest of his life without being able to touch her. He supposed he’d just have to suck it up and suffer in silence. There would be no happily ever after for him and Bex.
“I’m sure he will.” He kissed her cheek, determined that it would be the only time he’d ever allow his lips to brush her skin. “He’d be a fool not to.”
His brother was many things. Opinionated. Arrogant. Self-centered. But not a fool.
“Thank you.” She took his hand and squeezed. “I’m so glad you’re the first to know.”
Gently, he disentangled himself from her. Even though he knew she didn’t mean anything by it, all physical contact between them needed to stop. It fed the tangle of tender emotion knotted in his chest.
“Me, too,” he lied. The first blatant lie he’d ever told her. The heaviness in his heart said it wouldn’t be the last.
1
Six Years Later
“Is she dead?”The question filtered through a curtain of sleep and pierced Bex Cane’s consciousness. She really ought to lift her head and dispel the notion, but she was so damned tired. Izzy hadn’t settled down until late last night, and she was behind on a commissioned painting so she’d stayed awake into the wee hours of the morning playing catch-up.
“She’s not dead.” This statement came from a different source and was delivered with authority. “Just sleeping.”
“Are you sure? ’Cause she hasn’t moved in ages.”
Bex’s lips twitched. She recognized that plaintive tone, and knew she should assure her daughter she was alive, but leaving the cocoon of warmth and peacefulness hardly appealed.
“I’m sure, Iz. She just shifted her foot.”