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“I won’t hurt you.”

He’d never been less than truthful. I believed he meant it. But it raised the specter of the man who had.

I traced a hand from his shoulder to his chest, lingering over his heart. Drew cupped my hand there, holding it steady. Letting me feel the strong rhythm pounding there. He was different from Owen in every way.

“I’m grateful you helped me with Owen tonight. But that’s not why I love you.”

“Is it because of my incredible sense of humor and biceps that won’t quit?” He flexed, making his biceps pop.

I chuckled. “Only partially. You were patient with me when I needed it. Didn’t push.”

“That just makes me a decent human being.”

I pursed my lips. “You let me love you, Drew. On my own terms and in my own time. You’re honorable in a way I didn’t think existed anymore. Caring when you could be cruel. Responsible when you could be selfish. You make me feel likethe most beautiful, precious woman in the world. Complete and whole in my own right, without the taint of my past. Separate from my family, even though yours is inextricably linked with who you are. I love you for that. For seeing me as me.”

He kissed me, slow and tender, as if to seal the words I shared between us. Immortalize them in a kiss that bloomed with the power and presence of our love for each other.

His eyes glittered as he drew away. A subtle change in his expression warned me.

“Just so we’ve got our stories straight, please tell my brother that my biceps sealed the deal.”

I giggled, letting the laughter wash away the last of the stress and worry from dealing with Owen. From admitting my feelings to Drew. I loved him so much. Biceps and all.

Chapter 29 – Anya

Cool wind caressed my cheeks through the open windows as Drew drove us out to Jackson Beach. After weeks without a hint of Owen, I finally felt like I could breathe. There’d been no word from my parents, making me wonder if Owen had revealed my location to them or squirreled that away for leverage later. It would be just like him to use it as currency.

Every time I asked Clay for any news about Agent Harris, he just gave me a tight-lipped shake of his head. They wouldn’t jeopardize an investigation by sharing details, even if I had been the one to bring them their lead.

That left me in limbo, using the studio, my friends, and Drew to keep me anchored in the present. And with Drew’s open affection, it was easier than I’d ever imagined.

Anne-Marie Genter was gone.

Tonight, Drew and I would make it official. I clutched the envelope of documents from my old life to my chest. Maybe burning it was symbolic. It was probably silly to destroy the proof, but I didn’t care. Part of yoga philosophy included thepractice of letting go to create space for becoming more engaged and connected with your present, your inner wisdom, and truth.

Everything that mattered was in my present. The past had no hold on me now.

Drew parked the truck, and we picked our way toward the picnic shelter and firepit. The park usually closed at dusk, but he’d called in a favor with his uncle to get us access.

Drew crouched over the iron ring, carefully placing the bundle of kindling he’d brought. Touching a match to the dry wood. It smoked, crackling as the tinder caught fire.

The flickering light bloomed in the darkness, highlighting the hollows of Drew’s cheeks, his strong jaw and firm chin. Slowly, he extended to his full height, wrapping one arm around my shoulders as we stared down into the flames.

“You sure about this?” he asked.

I dipped my chin. “I want to be free of the past.”

“I’ll never let it touch you.”

His soft words were a promise, reaching into my chest and squeezing. Drew had already proven he’d stand by me. It was why I could let go.

“I know.” I leaned into his side, resting my head on his shoulder. “I’m choosing to swim with the tide of my life. The one that brought me to you. I’m not Anne-Marie Genter anymore.”

He dropped a kiss on my forehead, his lips lingering for a moment in a gentle blessing. “Then the fire is ready when you are, Sunny Girl.”

I extracted the last vestiges of my old life, my driver’s license and birth certificate, from the envelope and dropped them one by one into the fire. Flames licked at my birth certificate, turning it to ash. My ID took longer, the plastic slowly melting and withering as it turned brown, melting into a blob of blackened trash.

“Goodbye, Anne-Marie.”