A flash of lightning illuminates the walls of my room as I lie on my bed, staring at the ceiling. Rain pours steadily outside, Michigan’s April showers at their finest. Thunder rumbles, emphasizing my dark mood and bleak thoughts.

My youngest brother Silas just got engaged.

That’s great news, and I should be happy for him. Hell, I am happy for him, and his fiancée, Meg. But I’m the oldest, and I can’t help wondering when it’ll be my turn.

All three of my younger brothers are now paired off. Sebastian is married, Silas engaged, and Shawn is—well, he’s definitely in a serious relationship with our family friend Leah. I don’t resent their happiness or the fact that they’ve found lifelong partners to share their days with.

I just wish I could find that too.

Another flash of lightning bathes the room in pale light, glinting off the high school yearbook on my nightstand. My lips press into a thin line as her name flashes in my mind. It hurts to even think it, let alone say it aloud. But sometimes the past won’t be contained.

A montage plays before me, featuring a beautiful young woman—Bianca Wakely. I grip my pillow tighter, waiting for the stab of pain to fade to its usual dull ache. It’s been nearly ten years since I last saw her, ten years since the night of our graduation when we had plans to elope.

And she never showed.

I grind my teeth, then push myself off the bed, unable to bear another moment of the tortured path my mind insists on wandering. A giggle sounds from above, and I fight a groan. Ever since Shawn roped us into cleaning out the attic last year, he and Leah like to sneak up there during inclement weather.

They swear it’s just to watch the storm roll in, but it always seems to devolve into something more. Since the space is partially above my room and the ceiling isn’t soundproof, Shawn usually gives me a heads-up.

My phone buzzes, and I pick it up to find a message from Shawn. Better late than never, I guess. I sigh, glancing at the clock to find it’s only ten p.m.—too early to sleep, especially on a Friday night. Another laugh sounds.

Definitely time to relocate.

I pad out into the hallway, turning sideways to skirt the attic ladder that takes up a good chunk of the space. Leah giggles again and, while I welcome the distraction from my thoughts about Bianca, this is almost worse.

Instead, I hurry down the hall, shooting a glare at Silas’ closed door. His room doesn’t have the attic right above it, so he and Meg can stay all cuddled up in their bed. I rush to the stairs, pushing aside any wayward images wanting to pop up.

The yellow glow emanating from above the kitchen stove casts enough light to see by. We leave it on every night for moments like this, or in case someone wants a late-night snack. I want it brighter, though, needing something to cut through the dimness of the room and my mood, so I turn on the lamp next to the couch. Taking my usual seat, I grab the remote and flick on the TV, hoping for a distraction.

The first thing on is a commercial featuring a couple in love. Rolling my eyes, I change to Netflix and pull up my profile, then select the first rec that pops up. But the damage is done.

As the oldest, I’ve paved the way for my brothers. Firstborn, first to graduate, first to earn his bachelor’s degree, first to get a job in his field. Excelling in every way, except the one I long for most. I’m twenty-seven and have no one to share my accomplishments with.

My bank account is full, but my heart is empty.

My job at National Lending pays the bills, but it doesn’t have much in the way of meeting new people. I work in the IT department, manage a few of my own employees, and specialize in keeping things running smoothly in the background. Although I appreciate not dealing with annoying calls asking me to find a deleted email or demanding more space because their storage is full, it would be nice to interact with someone outside of my department.

As my youngest brother Silas so kindly pointed out—it’s not like the love of my life is going to just show up on my doorstep. He also suggested I try a dating app, but the very idea of sorting through potential matches is exhausting.

As is dating itself.

I’ve dated since Bianca left, women I met through friends or at events. But the universe seems to be against me. Things will go well, then she’ll get back together with her ex. I even tried long distance after last year’s spring break, but that didn’t work out for either of us. She ended up leaving…just like Bianca.

Bright images of my former love flit through my mind before I can stop them, each punctuated by an ache I haven’t been able to ease since she disappeared. Her blonde hair, silky smooth. Those dancing blue eyes that sparkled like the sun. That enticing smile I could never resist.

The memories keep emerging, like a splinter I thought I’d pulled free only to find a part of it had broken off deep under the skin. And it’s poking out tonight.

I wonder what it’ll take to rid myself of her completely. She haunts me with lingering questions of what could have been and what happened. I hate that I’ll never know. That I’ll never have closure.

But I could have it, my mind whispers. My mom kept in touch with Bianca, and I only know because I saw a Christmas card she accidentally left out. The return address had my ex’s name in her familiar swooping handwriting. The location is burned in my mind, only two hours from here.

So close, yet so far away.

But she left me. The reminder slices my heart like a piercing blade. Why would I chase after someone who disappeared without even a goodbye?

Thunder crashes, shaking the house, and I jerk out of my revelry. The home renovation show playing catches my eye. I stare at the construction scene, and one corner of my mouth ticks up in an involuntary smile as nostalgia wells within me.

I’d needed a distraction after my high school heartbreak. When my uncle Jason said he had an opening on his construction crew, I’d leaped at the chance and thrown myself into the job.

The labor had taken every ounce of my concentration and strength, and I’d been too exhausted when I fell into bed each night to think about anything. I’d learned amazing skills, made wonderful friends, and began building a new life for myself because of that opportunity.

A rapping echoes through the house. At first I think it’s the TV, but when it sounds again, I realize it’s coming from the front door. Frowning, I stand, then cautiously walk over to peek out of the window showing our stoop. Lightning illuminates a slight figure as she turns her head, giving me a glimpse of her face beneath her hood before the light fades.

My heart stops, my mind aligning her profile with the one that haunts my dreams. But it couldn’t be her.

Could it?

The knock sounds again, followed by a feminine voice calling, “Steven? Shawn? Sebastian? Silas?”

I’m frozen to the spot. She knows our names, knows who lives here.

“Anyone?”

That last pleading note spurs me into action, and I yank open the door, my heart in my throat. Hope bubbles within me, springing up through barriers of pain and hurt that keep it from sprouting fully. The woman moves forward, out of the rain, and the lamplight reaches her features. Her lower lip quivers as I stare into a pair of cerulean eyes I never thought I’d see again.

“Bianca?”

She blinks back at me, then whispers, “Steven…”

Her voice cracks on my name and my gut wrenches at the pain flashing across her face in the dim light. I barely stop myself from reaching for her.

Then I remember that she didn’t want me.

The past stabs me with bruised memories that spark anger. I lift my chin, steeling myself even as I shift backward to at least let her come inside. She shuffles a few steps in. I keep my distance, wondering how smart it is to be under the same roof. We have so much between us, and I don’t want to get burned. Again.

“I’m sorry,” she says, sounding small. “I had nowhere else to go.”

The deluge outside is illuminated by another bolt of lightning, and I’m not sure I could turn away my worst enemy on a night like this, let alone the former love of my life. My mom’s voice chides me. She’d have my hide if I left someone to fend for themselves, especially in the midst of a storm.

Resignation fills me. I can show hospitality, be polite, but still keep my distance. I peer behind her onto the stoop. “Do you have anything else?”

She sucks in a breath, almost flinching at my proximity. I give her space, frowning when she shakes her head. As I shut the door, I realize exactly what it means that she showed up here.

The Bianca I knew would never ask for help. She’d always refused any assistance my family or her friends offered, even when it was obvious she needed it. Her stubborn streak and independent nature knew no bounds.

Concern washes over me and I wonder what could have driven her out into the night in this weather. Worst case scenarios leap into my mind, tumbling out of my mouth. “Are you in trouble? Do you need medical help?”

Her eyes close for a moment, her lips pressing together into a thin line. “No. I just need sleep. I promise, I’ll be gone first thing tomorrow.”

The prospect of it only being one night eases some of the tension that sits like a brick in my stomach. I can handle her being under the same roof for one night. I hold out my hand to take her dripping wet jacket which she tugs off, her movements stilted.

I keep my barriers up, careful not to touch her in any way. Once her jacket is safely stowed, I turn to face her. Bianca hugs herself with one arm, her gaze unfocused and faraway as if lost in thought, and I take a moment to look at the woman I once loved.

Her beauty hits me first, like a punch in the gut. It’s been ten years, but I still remember every detail of her, and seeing her now in person instead of in my dreams has my heart stuttering.

Then I really see her. The dim light shadows her features, making her gaunt cheekbones stand out and exaggerating the circles under her eyes. Exhaustion is etched into every corner of her face. The girl I knew was open and exuberant, but the woman before me is guarded and closed off, her expression carefully neutral.

I want to rail at her, demand an explanation, but I’m not sure she’d stay standing for that conversation. A shudder racks her, making me snap into fix-it mode, our past be damned.

“We have an extra room upstairs.”

My cool, matter-of-fact tone makes her flinch, and my concern ratchets up another notch. Then I remind myself that I don’t care about this woman. She’s not mine to want or protect. She lost that chance when she disappeared without a trace.

“Take off your shoes? Then I’ll show it to you.”

She quickly complies. I lead her up the stairs to Shawn’s old room, now used for guests. The attic door is still open, and Lee peeks out at me. I meet her eyes as I shake my head, telling her to stay out of this. For now. I’ll fill her in after Bianca is settled, because I could definitely use her advice.

“Here you go.” I flick on the light and see how soaked she is when she steps into the room. “I’ll find you a towel and some dry clothes.”

She hugs herself tighter and dips her chin as she stares at the bed.

I dash to my room. Meg’s clothes would fit her better, but it’s late and I’m sure as hell not interrupting the newly engaged couple. Mine will have to do. A tingle of excitement zips through me at the idea of letting Bianca wear my clothing again, but I push it aside.

This is about getting her warm and dry, nothing more.

A few minutes later, I return with soft lounge pants, socks, boxers, a T-shirt and a hoodie, giving her as many options as I can. She squeaks at my sudden entrance, cowering away from me. I stop short at the response. It’s the third time she’s reacted like that and I don’t like the idea of her being afraid, especially of me. I’m not a bully.

But I can’t let that fear soften me, can’t let it derail me from protecting my heart. She already hurt me once, and I don’t think I could survive another bout.

“It’s just me.” I hold out the stack of clothes. “You can change in there.” I nod to the bathroom.

She gingerly takes the pile from me then shuffles into the hallway.

“Hey.” I can’t stop myself from offering her some reassurance. No one should have to live in fear, and if she left a truly troubled situation, I want her to know I’m not going to add to it. “You’re safe here, okay?”

Her shoulders drop slightly, and her lips quiver into a semblance of a smile. Then she disappears into the bathroom. I walk over to the ladder where Lee stares down, wide-eyed.

“Is that—?”

I nod, swiping a hand over my face. “Yeah, that’s Bianca.” I sigh at the excitement sweeping over Lee’s features. I can just hear the deluge of questions about to spill from her, so I hold up a hand. “I don’t know anything, Lee. Not why she’s here, not what happened. She needs a place to stay and looks shell-shocked as hell. I couldn’t turn her away.”

Her excitement fades as her forehead creases. “Of course not.” She glances over her shoulder and I can barely make out Shawn’s features behind her in the faint light. “After she’s back in the room, we’ll head downstairs.”

Relief eases my lungs so I can draw a full breath. “Thanks.”

“Are you okay?”

I manage a smile, wanting to be strong, not to show weakness. Even to her. I’m the oldest, the example, and that reminder gives me the strength to keep it together.

“We’re here if you need anything.”

“I know.” My voice is thick, and I’m beyond grateful for their love and support.

The bathroom door opens, and my heart stutters at the sight of Bianca swallowed in my clothes. She’s always been petite, especially compared to me and my brothers, and a wave of protectiveness surges through me. I berate myself, tugging the walls carefully back into place as she heads back to the room, and I follow.

Inside, I gesture to the empty closet and keep my tone neutral. “You can hang your things here. Need anything else?”

She shakes her head and I start to leave, but she says my name. When I pause, she whispers a tremulous, “Thank you.”

My walls feel paper thin, and my throat is thick at her emphatic sincerity. It hits me again that she sought me out, that she asked me for help. Somehow, I tuck all the emotions down. “You’re welcome. Goodnight, Bluebird.” The old nickname slips out.

Her eyes widen, and I can’t wait for more of her reaction. I turn and shut the door between us, my heart aching with old wounds as I slump against the wall.

Bianca is here. In my house. Right down the hall from my bedroom.

I know I won’t be able to sleep tonight. My mind is already racing with questions. Why is she here? Why now? Why me?

But deep within me lies a hope that I can’t fully tamp down. Ten years ago, I waited at a train station for hours for her to show. Ten years ago, I planned to make her my bride, but she vanished without a word.

Maybe I’ll finally get to know what happened.