The adoption isn’t complete, but within the next six months, Emily should be a full-fledged Walker. It’s the end of August, and she’s enjoying the final remaining weeks until school starts. I’m hoping she can live as normal a life as possible from here on forward.

Thomas has backed off, conceding this isn’t such a bad outcome for a little girl who was left homeless by an awful accident. An accident that no matter how hard he tries to pin on me, wasn’t my fault.

It feels right seeing her here where I grew up, surrounded by everything that made me who I am today. She will want for nothing, including an abundance of love from eight brothers and sisters who will spoil her rotten. And I can visit and spend as much time with her as I want or as she needs.

Having her settled, healthy and happy, I can now focus on getting my own life back on track. I haven’t spoken to Addison in three months. A few text messages here and there, but for the most part, I’ve given her the space she needed. And ultimately the time our relationship needed to heal. Now that Emily is settled, I can focus on us. I only hope Addison’s ready for me, and that we can keep the past where it belongs and move forward.

“I’m taking Emily to get her nails done, Damian.”

I’m startled by my mother’s voice, but she looks so much like Emily it’s hard to imagine they aren’t related.

“Nothing too bright.”

She waves me off. “Go do something, Damian. I don’t want to see you when we get home.”

My mom has never kicked me out before. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means stop being such a man and go see that woman.”

Shaking my head, I ignore her and look out at the ocean. She makes it sound so easy.

“It is that easy.” I turn wondering if I spoke out loud. “Go to her. Work it out. I’ve never seen you like this before. Not even after your accident.” I flinch and my mom takes my hands and squeezes. “Nothing comes easy in life, Damian. You should know that by now. The same is true for love.” Releasing my hands, she reaches for Emily’s tiny fingers and walks her out the front door.

The fog that rolls in every night along the coast is beginning to burn off and I take a deep breath, weighing my options.

My phone dings a new text and I look at the screen.

Reed: You go find Addison yet?

Me: No.

Reed: Stop being such a pussy.

Fuck. He’s right. Why is he always right? It’s time to act and hope like hell she hasn’t forgotten about me.

“Go! Don’t stop. You can make it!” I’ve resorted back to yelling at the television. I can’t help it, watching my favorite teams duke it out to see who can race around the world fastest is familiar to me, and for the past three months, nothing has felt familiar.

I moved to find myself, and I have. I’ve learned that I do know how to cook when I take the time to read a recipe all the way through, that not only does coffee taste good out of my dad’s mugs, but wine works as well and that reading erotic romance novels pales in comparison to the real deal.

I miss Damian. Emily’s story was all over the news and photos of Damian and his family were plastered everywhere. He won. Emily will be in his family forever, and he didn’t have to break his promise to Megan to make it happen. I wanted to drive up and congratulate him in person, tell him I miss him, and see if it was time to finally move forward, but I couldn’t make myself do it. Sending him a four word text instead “I’m proud of you.” His response, “I love you.” Those three words made me smile for the first time in two months and my fingers moved over the screen on my phone, quickly texting him back. “I love you too.”

“I know. I’ll see you soon.” he instantly responded. The texts stopped there, and now four weeks later, I haven’t heard a peep. Emily is living with his parents in Malibu, and I can only assume Damian is a short twenty-minute drive away, as well.

Mia and Paige haven’t bumped into him, and they refuse to drive by my old apartment. Something I’m both thankful for and hating at the same time. I want to know what he’s doing, where he’s going and if he ever stops to think about me, or if he’s moved on.

My life has fallen into a comfortable routine, and this move proved one thing. I’m stronger than I thought. Leaving Santa Barbara was the best decision I’ve ever made. Being away from memories that remind me how lonely I was at times has given me a fresh look on life, but I miss Damian. He’s my one missing link and I need him in my life.

Voices in the hallway grab my attention. The apartment next door has been vacant since I moved in, but it sounds like that’s not going to be the case anymore.

“Hey, don’t drop that.”

I open my door to spy on the new neighbor. Santa Monica is a city on the beach. Anyone from a writer to a teacher, a single parent, or an attorney could be moving in. Any and all walks of life live here, and even though I’m only a two-hour drive from where I grew up, I feel like I’m experiencing life for the first time.

Movers are traipsing up and down the stairs, furniture, paintings, and boxes in their hands. Jeez, how big can that apartment be to need four Damian-sized men to move everything in?

Something red is wedged between a mover’s arm and body, and I squint my eyes to make it out, trying to get an idea of who is moving into apartment 2B. Whatever it is, it looks familiar. The mover pulls it out of his arm and places it on top of the mattress he and another man are carrying into the doorway.

My heart thumps and my mouth dries. It can’t be.

The men make it all the way through the door jam leaving the hallway wide open.

Except for Damian.

Tall and broad, he is taking up all the air in the place. His arms are crossed over his chest, his biceps bulging under his short-sleeved black T-shirt. That grin, it’s lopsided, the left side of his mouth quirked up adding a light to that dark and intense gaze.

It hurts to breathe. I’ve lived without this view for three months, pouring over news broadcasts and magazine articles to get a glimpse of the man I walked away from. Nothing could have prepared me for seeing him in the flesh.

“You brought the pillow.” I finally spit out.

His grin widens. “I can’t sleep without it.”

“We’re neighbors.” I say, pointing out the obvious.

He nods, his eyes never leaving mine. “Yep. I’ll be living right next door.”

Uncrossing his arms, he takes a slow and steady step towards me. “I missed your mugs.”

The backs of my eyes are burning, tears threatening to fall at any moment. My breath is coming up short and I’m sure I’m going to pass out. He continues to advance, his hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans, his eyes studying my reaction to his presence.

“I missed your abs.”

His body stills, and he stands a mere two feet from my grasp. He begins to gently laugh, the line of tension slipping away. Removing his hands from his pockets, he grabs the back of his shirt and swiftly pulls it over his head.

My reaction to the view in front of me hasn’t changed. If anything, it’s intensified. His eight-pack is just as prominent, a small amount of dark hair is still scattered on his chest. He’s thinner, but it doesn’t take away from the impressive mold of his body.

Taking another step in my direction, the air around us shifts, as he gets within reaching distance.

I throw my arms around him and bury my face in his neck. He’s warm and solid and I can’t believe he’s here. “Damian,” I whisper.