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That hurt because it mirrored what I thought about how Dylan and I had fractured so easily. “I used to be someone who didn’t believe in second chances, but you were right when you told me not every man is my father. I realized that too late.”

“I want to tell you not to get involved, but you’re already balls deep in this.”

“You have two girls. Do I need to explain my anatomy to you?”

She chuckled. “You know what I mean.”

“I do. And yeah, I’m already in deep. So, why not go all in? Thrust myself deeper and deeper until...”

“Tell me you haven’t had sex in a while without telling me...”

She wasn’t wrong. I chortled at that one and ended the call with a promise to update.

For several long moments, I stared at the phone screen, waiting for the answer to come to me. Should I contact Dylan’s parents? Someone might have already. Was it my place to make that call?

What would I want Dylan to do if our roles were reversed?

No matter how much my parents drove me crazy, if I were in a hospital after a near-death experience and my memory was spotty at best—I’d want my mom. One hundred percent.

The first time I visited the DeVoss estate felt like another lifetime.

Dylan and I had been dating for a few months when he asked me to meet his parents.

I was a nervous wreck as we drove up a winding road in the Connecticut countryside, and I swear when the gate opened for us I thought we’d taken a wrong turn and ended up at a luxury hotel.

The driveway alone was the length of a runway, paved in what Dylan offhandedly called Belgian block , like that was a normal thing to know.

The house itself could have been airlifted from the English countryside, grand but not showy, with ivy climbing the stone facade and a line of fountains cutting through the manicured front gardens like punctuation marks.

I’d had no idea places like that even existed in America. Gardens with winding paths. And a home that seemed to go on and on in both directions. I asked who else lived there, expecting to meet aunts or cousins or at the very least a small army of golden retrievers.

Dylan had shrugged and said, “Just my parents. And me, when I’m in town. And the staff.”

The staff.

I’d never met anyone who had staff before. Plural staff at that.

I fully expected to be politely tolerated, the “casual girlfriend” who was easily dismissed. But Harlan and Vivienne surprised me. They weren’t warm in the way I was used to. No hugs, no overfamiliar chatter, but their welcome had been genuine.

Yes, they expected me to dress for dinner, as if we were dining at the Ritz. And yes, they spoke in tones that made every sentence sound like it had been edited twice and fact-checked by The New Yorker. But they adored Dylan. That much was obvious.

To me, at least. Dylan was lukewarm around them and that confused me.

He didn’t say, but I think he craved the boisterous, over-the-top welcome I received each time I went home.

I didn’t tell him that all the hugs and kisses my parents showered me with was their way of compensating for not being able to conceal their marital issues.

Vivienne took me on a tour of her extensive gardens.

She spent nearly an hour guiding me through rows of carefully tended blooms, pointing out each flower with the quiet pride of someone who valued the history of their home.

“These heirloom peonies have been here since my grandmother’s time.

She believed flowers should outlast furniture.

” She stopped at a rose bush. “Harlan bought these for me when he proposed. My father wouldn’t let him plant them until we married.

I’m not sure he expected Harlan nor me to be able to keep it alive that long, but it’s a Harrison Yellow.

It’s hardy and relatively rare.” She’d smiled.

“Harlan said it reminded him of our love.” She touched one of the yellow petals lightly as she seemed to go back in time.

“Harlan was from Texas. Oil money. My parents didn’t think he would fit in here.

In their eyes, he wasn’t good enough for me.

They were so wrong. Bloodlines were important to my parents and their circle.

Had I chosen a man from up here, I might have been discarded when it was discovered I couldn’t carry a child to term.

We tried and failed enough times that my heart couldn’t handle another attempt.

Harlan understood and his love never wavered.

Hardy, just like this rose. Dylan is the miracle neither of us expected, but one that made our home complete.

I look forward to getting to know you, and I hope one day you add something hardy to this garden. ”

No, she didn’t hug me then, but I’d never felt more seen and accepted. Without addressing my fears directly, she’d calmed all of them. I wasn’t from their world, but I was falling hard for Dylan and if resilience was what the DeVoss’s valued... I was rich in that.

Dylan’s father was on a call for most of our engagement party, and that had infuriated Dylan. I tried to understand both sides. Harlan loved his wife and his son, but when he’d married Vivienne he’d stepped into big shoes he felt he had to hustle to fill.

Dylan didn’t care about money, he wanted his father’s time. But Dylan had never known life without money. He’d never been judged for not being enough. I didn’t agree with Harlan’s choice to put business above big family moments, but I understood why he felt he had to.

Even Harlan, though, wouldn’t choose anything over being there for his son if he thought he was in need. At least, not if Harlan was the man I remembered.

I’m just going to do it.

These weren’t just Dylan’s parents. They’d almost been mine too.

I found Vivienne’s phone number in my contacts and hoped she hadn’t changed it. After choosing it, I held my breath. Each ring felt like an echo to the past.

“Jennifer?” Vivienne asked, her voice even, but surprised.

“Yes. Hi. I know it’s been a long time since we’ve spoken...”

“Too long,” she said warmly. “It’s good to hear your voice. How have you been?”

I cleared my throat. “Busy mostly.” I inhaled and debated how to say why I’d called.

“Harlan and I are so proud of you. You’re the only reason either of us have a TikTok account, but we enjoy the interviews you post. In a world where everyone is rushing for a sound bite, you invite people to share their stories with depth, a beautiful gift to give them.”

“Wow. Um. Thank you. That’s really kind of you to say.” I stalled by standing and looking around, half hoping there would be a reason why I couldn’t continue. “H-How is Harlan?”

“Impossible since he retired. He needs a new hobby. He’s dabbling in falconry, and honestly, he’s not any good at it.

His first one flew away and he won’t admit it, but he’s still upset about it.

He spoiled his current one, Marrok. Now he has a bird who won’t fly or hunt.

It only wants to sit beside him. That’s not a hobby, that’s an expensive, messy pet. ”

I chuckled softly. “Poor Harlan.”

“Poor Harlan indeed. Thank goodness he built it a mews or I fear he’d have it perched at night in our bedroom.”

Neither of us spoke for a moment. Eventually, I said, “There’s actually a reason for this call. Dylan...”

“Oh, Jennifer, I wish I could help you with that. He hasn’t spoken to us in years. Won’t answer a call or a text. We’re respecting his decision.”

Was I?

I shook off that thought and plowed ahead. “I’m at Pineroad Hospital,” I said quickly, then winced. I hadn’t meant to start like that. “He’s awake and in stable condition, but Dylan was in a car accident. A bad one. He broke some ribs, but he should heal fine. His memory was affected.”

“Could you hold on for one moment?” Vivienne said urgently and called Harlan to come. “I’m putting you on speakerphone if that’s alright.”

“Of course.”

Vivienne repeated what I’d said and Harlan’s deep voice boomed. “Tell us everything you know.”

I did. I started at the beginning with how he’d come to see me because I felt that was important for them to know.

I told them how his driver had retrieved me because he thought Dylan would want me there when he woke.

“And he did, but he doesn’t remember that we broke up. There’s a lot he doesn’t remember.”

A choked sound escaped her. I imagined her pressing a hand to her chest. “Has he asked for us?”

“Not that I know of,” I continued. “But he’s confused. He remembers people, but not time. Not events. They’re calling it retrograde amnesia. I don’t know what he remembers about you, or... or what he doesn’t. I wasn’t sure if I should call you, but I felt this is something you’d want to know.”

“It is,” she said quickly. “Harlan, we should be there, in case he asks for us.”

“Yes,” Harlan said. “I agree.”

I felt something had to be said. “I don’t know if he’ll want to see you. And the doctors have warned that he needs to be kept calm.”

“We won’t push,” Vivienne said in her even-tempered voice, but there was strain to it. “We’ll simply be close in case he does ask for us.”

I believed her. Dylan often read her restraint as proof that she didn’t care about him, but love came in all shapes, sizes, and flavors. And one wasn’t necessarily better than the other... they were all different. I was only now beginning to see that.

“We miss him,” Harlan said. “Mistakes were made on our part, as well as his. But he’s our son. If he wants us in his life, we’ll be there.”

There was a rustle in the background. Vivienne said, “Did you bring Marrok into the house?”

“He was with me on the patio. So, yes.”

“Well, now he’s in the chandelier,” Vivienne said.

I bit back a smile.

Harlan’s rebuttal was perfectly deadpan. “It does appear that way.”

“Will he remain there, you think? Or have you mastered the recall?” Vivienne asked.

“I’m quite pleased he can still fly,” Harlan said. “I doubt he’ll come down on my behalf, but I’ll inform Gregory of the situation.”

I hated to interrupt what was the least heated argument I’d ever been part of, but I wanted to return to Dylan. “I’ll send you all the information I have. He’s in a private suite. They’ve given me a cot in his room.”

“Thank you for calling us, Jennifer,” Vivienne said. “Is there anything we can bring you?”

Without thinking, I blurted, “A hug. I could use one.”

“I’ll pack a few extra,” Vivienne responded without missing a beat, and I felt good as we ended the call.

I made the right choice.

I think.