“Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“I didn’t want to stress you out. You had so much going on. I kept waiting for you to bring it up, but you never did, so I just started getting everything worked out on my end,” I tell her as she shakes her head.

“I had no idea.”

I let out a light laugh and say, “You didn’t think I’d let you leave without me, did you?”

“Honestly? I didn’t know. I didn’t bring it up because I was scared I would have to leave without you. I didn’t know what I was going to do, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to leave you,” she admits. “But I’m going to stay here. I called Pacific Northwest Ballet. I had originally turned down their offer, but I called them when I left the airport, and the spot is still mine. I go in on Monday to sign all the papers.”

“You don’t have to do that. You can still have New York.”

“I’m not ready for it,” she says softly. “I thought I was, but I think I was just forcing it. To prove to myself that I could go there on my own and be okay. But I need to be here. This is my home, with you, Jase and Mark, and everything that I’m used to,” she tells me. “I want to get better, and I want to do that here where I have the support.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m not saying no to New York, I’m just saying no for right now.”

I finally let go of her hand to cup her face before bringing her to my lips. She holds on to my wrists as I move my lips over hers, giving her only a couple long and slow kisses before pulling back, and saying, “I love you so much.”

She runs her hand behind my neck and whispers, “I love you too,” before our lips meet again. But before I can lose myself in her, she pulls away. “Oh my God,” she draws out.

“What’s wrong?”

“All of my stuff—everything—is already in New York. I’ve gotta call the landlord from my apartment there. I shipped everything last week.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of all that. Did you have luggage?” I ask.

“Yeah, I had already checked it,” she says with worry.

“I’ll call the airlines. Don’t stress about it. We’ll get everything shipped back,” I tell her, but I’m not letting her move back in with Kimber. I have her here with me, and I don’t want any more space between us, so I add, “But babe, when I arrange everything, I’m having it shipped here.”

She nods her head, not picking up on what I’m saying, so I clarify, “Here to my loft.” When I see her pinch her brows together, I say, “I want you here. With me.”

“Move in?”

“Yeah. Move in. I don’t want to be apart from you.”

The smile that grows on her lips is beautiful, and I can’t help myself when I kiss her.

“God, I missed that smile,” I say. “It’s been too long.”

“So that’s it?” she questions.

“That’s it,” I give her. “I want this to be your home. Here with me.”

She wraps her body around me, hugging me close when she whispers in my ear, “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Everything.”

After talking everything out this afternoon, Candace was drained and had a headache, so I gave her some aspirin, and she’s been upstairs sleeping for the past hour. I go ahead and make all the phone calls to arrange for her belongings to be shipped back here. Her luggage should be at the airport tomorrow morning, so at least she’ll have her clothes.

It’s amazing how quickly everything can change. One minute, I thought I’d lost her and the next, she’s back here and agreeing to move in with me. But I don’t want to waste any more time. I want to pick up where we left off, and it seems she wants the exact same thing.

When I notice the sun starting to set, I call in an order for dinner at the little Italian place down the street that Candace likes so much, figuring she could use a solid meal after the day she’s had. As I set the phone down, I hear a ringing from Candace’s purse that’s lying on the coffee table. I pull out her phone and answer it when I see that it’s Jase calling.

“Hey.”

“Ryan?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

“Sorry, man. I thought I was calling Candace but accidentally dialed you,” he says.

“No, this is Candace’s phone.”

“Huh?”

“She’s here,” I tell him, and I know he’s completely thrown off when he questions, “What do you mean she’s there?”

“After you called me this morning, she showed up at my door. She didn’t get on the plane. She’s been here ever since.”

“What happened? Is she not going?”

Sitting down on the couch, I tell him, “No. She’s staying. She took the spot at PNB.”

“Is she happy?”

“She’s happy,” I say before letting him know, “She’s moving in.”

“With you?”

“Yeah.”

He takes a pause before saying, “I knew she’d make the right choice.”

Laughing, I say, “She nearly destroyed me in the process.”

He begins to laugh with me, and then asks, “Can I talk to her?”

“She has a headache and is sleeping right now.”

“Just have her give me a call later, okay?”

“No problem.”

“I’m really happy you guys worked things out. She wasn’t the same without you.”

“Thanks, man. You’ve been a really good friend to me.”

“No thanks needed. You guys have a good night and give her a kiss for me. I didn’t know what I was going to do without her.”

“Me neither. Talk to you later,” I say before we hang up.

Walking upstairs, I step into the bedroom and look at the only love I ever want to know, curled up in my sheets. She’s peaceful and quiet as she sleeps. She needs this after the emotional day she’s had. We spent hours in this bed, hashing everything out, filling in all the gaps, and settling all the questions. But it needed to happen, and finally, for the first time, everything feels whole.

Candace and I finally drag ourselves downstairs for some much needed coffee after making love all morning. I’ll never get my fill of her, and I made sure she knew that.

She’s a little needy this morning, but I like that. I’ve missed that—her need to have me close. It’s to be expected with everything going on, so I hold her hand as we walk downstairs and into the kitchen.

“All I have is milk, babe. We’ll have to stop by the store to get you your creamer and stock up on groceries.”

“When did you get this?” she questions, and when I look over to her, she’s checking out the cappuccino machine.

“My mom. She got it for my birthday.”

“Birthday?”

Grabbing the milk to pour into her coffee, I say, “Yeah.”

“When was your birthday?” she asks as I hand her the mug and head over to the couch.

“Last month. May nineteenth.”

“Oh,” she says with a twinge of sadness.

“Babe, don’t let it bother you. It’s really not a big deal.”

Taking her eyes off of her mug, she looks up at me as she rests her back against the arm of the couch and says, “It does bother me. I feel like I’ve missed so much time with you.”

“You weren’t missing much. Nothing happened. Everything was literally in slow motion the whole time.”

“I still feel bad that I wasn’t here for your birthday.”

Setting my coffee down on the end table, I take hers as well, setting it aside as I pull her over to me and fold her in my arms. “None of that matters, so just forget it, okay?”

“I can’t just forget it.”

“Would it make you feel better if I told you that I was with you on my birthday?”

She pops her head up and stares at me with question. “What do you mean?”

“I saw you the night before,” I tell her. “I went to see you dance.”

“You were there?”

“Nothing would have kept me from seeing you that night,” I tell her and then kiss her forehead. “You were amazing. I couldn’t take my eyes off of you.”

“I didn’t think you were there. I saw your mom afterward, but I had no clue.”