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deadending at the sidewalk no one had bothered to shovel. Huddled against the light pole was a tall man, hat jammed over his ears, scarf up to his nose, posture so stiff to keep from shivering he’d likely be sore the next day. It was cold .
    I gave him a cursory glance and turned toward the store.
    “Hannah.”
    I never thought I’d hear that voice again. I pushed the pain down, smashed it back into its box, and faced him. “Hi, Alex.”
    He pushed his scarf down from his nose and took a step forward, stopping when I stayed where I was. “I tried to call you.”
    “I had my phone off.”
    “Oh.” His breath clouded the air. His next forward step was halted when I backed away. “Christ. Hannah, I’m sorry. When you wouldn’t answer the phone, I came here to apologize and explain.”
    “You already said you were sorry,” I pointed out.
    “I mean for leaving in the first place.”
    I shook my head. “I don’t—”
    “No.” The force in the word had me taking another step back. “I need to say this. I screwed up. I woke up that morning, it was barely light out, and I panicked.” He swallowed audibly. “The only other time I’ve felt like this about someone this quickly was with my fiancée. She was killed in a car accident three years ago.”
    Old pain ghosted over his face, and I softened, just a little bit. As reasons went, it was a valid one. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”
    He shut his eyes. “Might not seem like it, but I am ready to move on. Callie’s gone. You’re not, and I’d be a fool to let you get away because I was scared. And if I’d taken a few moments that morning instead of bailing before I put on my coat, I wouldn’t have left. I called you and you wouldn’t pick up. So I came here. You wouldn’t answer the door.”
    So that’s who’d been buzzing me.
    “I figured you were out. I waited for you to come home. You didn’t. I came back yesterday, same thing. Hannah, I’m sorry. I fucked this up, and I don’t deserve another chance. I’m asking for one anyway.” Pain warred with determination, chasing each other over his face, and my heart couldn’t decide if it wanted to sigh and melt or harden and kick him in the ass.
    He’d screwed up. It was possibly the screw up to end all screw ups. He left without explanation. I gave him plenty of chances to slow down, back up, and he’d plowed full steam ahead, sweeping me along with him. I could take responsibility for my own heartbreak. He would have to do the same.
    “When Jonah broke off our engagement,” I said slowly, “he was blunt. He never had any intention of marrying me. It hurt, but it was an explanation.” Icy air seared my throat. “When you walked out of my apartment, you left me with a sticky note. Your text made it clear I should move on.” I swallowed past the lump forming in my throat. “If I wouldn’t take Jonah back, a man I loved, a man who when he walked away offered me a reason, why would I give you another chance, when you didn’t give me a reason in the first place?
    “You gave me one night. It was beautiful, a fantasy I didn’t even know I had. Please let me keep that,” I whispered.
    His face closed off, those dark eyes hardened, and I turned away. Maybe I was making a mistake, but I had to think about what was best for me. And if he’d already hurt me this much, I couldn’t risk letting him close enough to do it again.
    The good thing about the cold was I was numb all the way through by the time I reached the store.
    *
    The first letter arrived the next day.
    The address bore my first name, no last name, yet it found its way to my mailbox anyway. The return address was A. Sagalla.
    The envelope shook as I tried to open it. Giving up, I walked upstairs, clutching my mail to my chest. I dumped my keys in the bowl by the door, peeled off my coat, scarf, and boots, and curled up on the couch, disturbing the kittens. Lucien crawled over and into my lap, followed by Remy.
    It wasn’t