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I feel alive again. Like I was in Dublin. The happy-go-lucky college girl who forgot about her family and the obligations she had. A girl who found her place in Ireland. In the pubs and restaurants, hiking in the mountains and rolling hills, opening her heart to a man.

“I can’t believe you dropped an entire pizza on the back of someone’s shirt.”

I hiccup as I laugh. “It was a white shirt too. And this woman was about ready to murder me. Who cares if I ruined her Chanel?”

Kilian throws his head back in laughter. “She sounded like a bitch anyway. I’m surprised she didn’t ask you to pay for it.”

“Oh she did.”

He shakes his head and laughs while picking up his glass. “This is the end of it.”

“I can’t believe we drank the whole bottle.”

He raises a brow at me. “We used to.”

“Ten years ago! I’m old now, Kilian. I am going to be so sick in the morning,” I say as I stand up and lean against the balcony railing.

He looks up from underneath his lashes. “You’re old? I’m forty-one. How do you think I’m going to feel?”

I shove his shoulder. “You’re Irish. You bleed whiskey. I’ve never seen you hungover.”

“I’m only half Irish. It has gotten harder over the years.”

I roll my eyes at him. “Whatever,” I slur, then knock my glass against his and finish off my drink.

He sets his glass down and stands, his hands going to my hips. My heart rate picks up when I see him staring down my bathrobe that has fallen open. Maybe I should have put on more appropriate clothes when I decided to drink with him.

“I can’t believe you still wear these robes.”

I blush. “I like the way they feel.”

“I know,” he says as he steps into me, pressing me against the railing. “That’s why I bought you one in the first place. Only silk sheets and silk robes formo stór.”

My treasure.He started calling me that one night when I coerced him to stop calling me doll.

His hands glide up the front of my robe, his fingers grazing my exposed breasts before he pulls the robe closed over my body. He presses a kiss to my collarbone.

I close my eyes. “Kilian, don’t call me that.” I sigh. “We can’t…”

“You should get some sleep,” he says as he steps back.

I can see the sadness in his eyes. I recognize it instantly. It’s not because I pushed him away. It’s the sadness I’ve felt the last ten years knowing I ruined a good thing. That I let this man slip between my fingers and I didn’t even give him a reason.

I watch as he looks at me one last time before walking to the door. He turns to face me, his shoulders slumped, his face full of sorrow. “It was good to see you again, Bella. Please be safe.”

He shuts the door. And tears start to slide down my face.

I can’t do this. Not again. I can’t let him out of my life. I know it’s impossible for us to be together. What we have is forbidden. But I’ve always been one to make a rash decision. Maybe we were meant to see each other again. So we could have this weekend. One last time for us to pretend.

I run to the door and pull it open, ready to chase after him. But he is standing right in front of the door. His face in a scowl like he is trying to figure out what to do.

“What are you doing?” I ask breathlessly.

“Figuring out if I should make the stupidest decision of my life and walk away.”

A smile cracks on my face. “Don’t.”

He looks up at me and I don’t see the man he is now; I see the man from ten years ago. The one who stole my heart and changed my entire life.