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He flinched. Like I’d smacked him across the face. Like he’d been sucker punched, his reaction was that apparent.

“What?” His voice was unsteady, and his gaze became unfocused.

Was it disbelief I saw, or worse, was it defeat?

“I can’t marry you.” I couldn’t bring myself to raise my voice beyond a strained whisper.

“Layla, I don’t understand.”

My heart couldn’t take this. I couldn’t listen to the sadness in his voice or see the humiliation in his expression. He never imagined my answer would be anything other thanyes.

“Please don’t hate me.”

“I love you.”

Whatever he felt, it was fear at the forefront of it. His face had turned ashen as his shoulders lifted toward his ears with tension.

I couldn’t see him like this. The voice inside my head was screaming at me to get out of here. To go, go, go.

Tearing my hand from his hold, I sent him an apologetic look. “I can’t. I have to go.”

Without another word, without giving him a chance to respond, I took off running. I ran away from the man who was down on one knee, professing his love to me and promising to give me the world.

If that wasn’t proof enough that I didn’t deserve him, I didn’t know what would be.

I slowed my pace, looked back once, and saw himstaring at me with such a horrified look. It would haunt me for the rest of my life.

Or so I thought.

I took off running again, needing to get away. And when I turned to look at him one last time, it was that vision that would stay with me forever.

The man I loved—Liam Westwood—with his head bowed in defeat.

I looked away, prepared to move in the opposite direction.

That’s when his face flashed before me. “Don’t destroy us, Layla. Don’t leave me.”

I shot up with a gasp, my eyes wide and searching. My chest was rising and falling rapidly. It was still so hard to breathe.

Liam.

God, Liam.

My heart ached just as much now as it did all those years ago. It had been eight years. Nearly eight years to the day, and I could still taste the pain of what I’d done to him. To us.

But how unbearable it was to relive it all again in my sleep. In the beginning, that happened frequently. I was constantly in turmoil over my decision, even if I knew it was the one that needed to be made. As time went on, it got easier, and I didn’t wake every morning feeling like it was a monumental task to just inhale and exhale.

It didn’t take a genius to know why I’d just had the dream I did.

I was a woman who didn’t do well with surprises. That much had been made clear in my life. I preferred to be able to plan everything, and this situation had made it impossible. After receiving that terrifying phone call yesterday morning, I had no choice.

I had to come back.

I had to return to my hometown.

Being back in Landing without having the time to prepare for it meant that my mind was all scrambled.

And though it might have been wise to take some time this morning to clear my head for what the next few weeks and months would hold for me and how I might survive them, I couldn’t do that.