I keep my hands clasped on my lap for the entirety of the drive to the town where I used to live. It's been a while since I last walked its streets and breathed its air.

"It looks much better now," Dad comments as we drive through the renovated and enhanced downtown area.

"It does," I say quietly, failing to swallow the lump that formed in my throat.

Dad glances over at me. "Nervous?"

"Yeah," I whisper. "Stupid, right?"

Dad shakes his head and gives me a small, encouraging smile. I don't know what to brace myself for. Everything could change after today. I hope Brian and I won't yell at each other — it's his dad's party, after all. Hope is all I have. The rest is uncertain.

I don't know if he feels the same pressure in the chest I do. I have no idea if he also spent last night staring at the ceiling, reminiscing our moments together. My mind decided to replay every minute detail of what made us who we were.

I thought about how he went from being someone who annoyed me to being someone who gave me solace and affection. I remembered our banter and Brian's silly jokes that made me laugh so hard my belly hurt.

I also recalled our more serious, deeper talks. He knew all of me — my weaknesses and flaws, my deeply-rooted insecurities and irrational fears. He knew my soul and my body like nobody else. There could be others, but it wouldn't be the same way with them. It wasn't the same with Nash, although he did try to get to know me.

Dad's car rolls into my former neighborhood. He drives past my mom's house and parks his SUV across the street, opposite Brian's parents' place.

It's early, but the loud music pours from O'Briens' backyard, and several bikes are in the driveway. I could have ridden my Harley too, but Dad offered to drive so that I could take some things of mine I needed.

"Let's go," Dad says, unlocking the driver's door.

I exhale and nod, discreetly wiping my sweaty hands on my red sundress before I get out of the car.

We don't bother knocking on the front door and circle the house, heading to the backyard instead.

The party is already in full swing. The smoke from the grill permeates the already hot July air. People are huddled together, chatting and laughing as they sip something from their cups. My gaze sweeps over the small crowds of guests, looking for Brian.

He's not here, and I can't help worrying.

"Savage!" Dad spots his friend and approaches him. "Congrats on your twenty."

"Twenty, my ass." Brian's Dad chuckles. "But I'm not complaining. I enjoyed each of them."

Dad smiles. Then, Mr. O'Brien sees me. Without hesitation, he takes a step forward and hugs me tightly.

"Happy birthday," I squeak, returning the hug.

"Thank you, kid. Everything alright?"

I nod. I want to ask him about Brian, but my courage must have drowned in the ocean in Spain. I bite my lip instead and shift my weight from one foot to the other.

"Brian is at the garage with Mac and Annie," says Mr. O'Brien. "I guess you want to see him."

"Only if it's okay," I say.

Brian's dad laughs. "Of course it is. Eric and I will catch up meanwhile. The little fucker promised to help me with the grill. Tell him to hurry."

"Okay. I won't be long."

Not waiting for a reply, I pivot and walk past the familiar house, crossing the distance separating it from the garage in a couple of minutes.

My heart rate spikes when my eyes land on Brian. Dressed in his signature black tee and black jeans, he's talking to Annie and Mac outside the garage. His hair is slightly ruffled, and just like mine, Brian's skin is tanned.

I halt and inhale a lungful of air. The easy thing would be to approach them and say hi, but my feet refuse to move.

"Leah!"

Annie rushes to me, solving my dilemma. Her slim arms wrap around my stiff body, and she sways from side to side as she gives me the tightest of hugs. "You're back at last!"

"You missed me." I smile.

"Not only me," Annie says, lowering her voice. It's impossible not to notice the mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

I gaze over at Brian. He pretends not to pay attention to anything but Mac, but he wouldn't fool me. I know he saw me, and I know he's just as nervous and uncomfortable as I am.

"Kenzie!"

Annie's voice pierces through the air. Mac looks our way and starts walking in our direction.

"Hey," he says to me when he's by our side. "Welcome back."

"Thank you," I reply.

Annie grabs her boyfriend's hand and tugs at it. "We have to help Mr. O'Brien with the grill. Come on."

I roll my eyes and blush. What my friend is doing is far from discreet, and a glance in Brian's direction tells me he knows what she's up to, as well.

Mac winks at me and draws an arm around Annie's shoulders as the two of them walk away, leaving us alone.

We don't move. Brian and I stare at each other, and the look is charged with so much electricity and unsaid things I am tempted to run away and hide.

What keeps me from doing so is the desire to finally sort out whatever situation we have. I can't back down, and I muster all the strength I have to take a step forward.

Brian does it, too. Anguish takes over his expression. It's clear from the way his forehead creases and from the small, barely noticeable wrinkles around his eyes he gets when he's worried about something.

"Leah, I..."

"Hey," I say.

Brian lets out a nervous laugh. "Yeah, hey. I'm sorry, I just...I guess I didn't expect to see you right now, you know? I mean, I expected, hell if I expected, but—"

"It's okay," I cut his rambling and nod toward the log that's still there, serving as a bench. "Let's sit?"

"Sure," Brian says.

We sit next to each other. I pull the hem of my short dress down to cover my lap. My cheeks flush when I see Brian looking at my bare legs. He did notice my dress. Although I shouldn't have, I put it on for him. I didn't use to have nice clothes when we were dating, but I have them now. Tara is right — the right garment can give you lots of confidence, and God, do I need some.

"How was your trip?" Brian asks.

"Good. I loved it."

"Did you like Italy?"

"I did. I liked Spain, too. It's beautiful. Both countries are. What did you do?"

Brian shrugs, studying his hands. "Not much. I volunteered at the hospital and then came here and spent a week with Jim and his girl. He took Ava to the Temple. The fucker owes me now because I didn't tell her about the party animal's sordid past."

I can't help smiling. "I'm sure it wasn't that bad. Jim seems to be a level-headed guy."

"He is now, not so much when he was younger. Now he's on tour."

"That's cool."

Brian groans, rubbing his face with his palms. "God, I'm sorry. I've planned everything I wanted to say to you, and now—"

"It's okay." I clasp and unclasp my hands. "I'm nervous too."

"Good. I mean, it's not, but at least I know—"

"Know what?"

"That you're not indifferent."

"That's something you already knew," I say softly.

Brian twirls the ring I'd given him around his finger. "I used to know, but I guess not anymore. Not when I see pictures of you with another guy on the beach in every fucking sports paper."

"What?" I utter meekly.

"I guess paps found the two of you."

"They might have, so what? I had nothing to hide. I didn't do anything wrong."

I study Brian's expression, trying to decipher what's on his mind. His lips are pursed, and a rush of anger whizzes through my bloodstream.

"You know what?" I say when he keeps quiet. "I could have. I could've kissed him. I could've slept with him. I had every right to do so because I was single. I am single. And God, you learned nothing, Brian. You left me. You went away. Nine months, and not a single word. And then, of course, you get jealous. You can't stand the thought of me being with another guy. You didn't love me enough—"

Brian jumps to his feet, and I recoil at the anger distorting his features when he faces me. "Didn't love you enough?" he asks, his voice hoarse and shaky.  "I've only ever loved one girl, and that girl is you. Don't fucking lie to me, Leah. If you chose not to read the letters, just admit it, but don't accuse me of not trying."

"Letters?"

Brian shakes his head and turns around. I gape at his retreating frame and tears well up in my eyes. How naive of me was it to believe he regretted what he did? He doesn't, and now he dares to throw the pictures I knew nothing about in my face.

Salty droplets slide down my cheeks, burning my skin. I wish I weren't here, at this party. I should have known better than hoping we could go back to the way everything was before he left.

Eventually, the tears stop falling. I manage to pull myself together and rise to my feet, determined to sneak out of here. Dad would surely understand, and Mr. O'Brien is too busy with his numerous guests to notice I'm missing.

"I'm sorry," a quiet voice says.

Brian is standing next to the log where I'd been sitting. I was too lost in thought to hear him approach me.

"Apologies accepted. Now let me go," I say, looking at my painted toenails.

Brian's fingers wrap around my wrist, and I suck in a breath.

"I behaved like a jealous jerk, okay? I acted like an asshole mentioning those pictures, but I didn't lie. Leah, I swear I didn't lie. I sent you letters. I assumed you didn't want to read them—"

"Don't, Brian," I whisper, taking a step back, making him release my hand. "I didn't get any letters. If you really sent them, I, Annie, or even Tara, would have received them."

"It would be weird if they did," Brian says, frowning, "since I sent them here."

I open my mouth, but Brian goes on speaking, "Yeah, I know, I should have asked Jim for your address, but you have to understand where I was. The area is remote, and the reception was crappy. The village didn't have a post office. One of the guys was going to the city. It was unplanned. I had to act fast. I called Jim, but he was recording and didn't have his phone on him. The guy couldn't wait. I wrote your mom's address on the envelope because I knew it by heart, and the second time I did it out of habit."

Slowly, my eyes travel up Brian's body and land on his face.

"Leah—"

I shake my head. Like a robot, I turn around and leave,  ignoring Brian calling my name.

In a couple of minutes, I insert the key in the lock of my mom's house. She won't be home till late in the evening, but I can't risk it.

Not wasting a second, I dash upstairs to my room. It's the same. Nothing changed since the last time I'd been here.  My bed is neatly made, and my desk is empty. There's no trace of any letters.

Nothing is in my mom's bedroom, either. The realization that she might have thrown the letters away makes my eyes water.

Dejected, I drag my feet downstairs and lower myself onto the couch.

Is he telling the truth? He could have made everything up for me to forgive him.

I survey the room I'm in, looking for the letters that might not even exist.

My gaze snags on the rickety coffee table. Magazines and old papers cover its surface. I pick them up, and my heartbeat slows down.

Tucked between two old newspapers is an envelope. I grip it with my shaky hand and examine Brian's familiar handwriting. I run my fingertips over the stamp and cover my mouth with my free hand when I see the date on it.

July.

Barely a month after Brian left.

With my heart in my throat, I go through the stack of magazines, opening each of them until I locate the second letter.

Sobs rack my body, and I clutch both envelopes to my chest.

I should have gotten the second letter on my birthday. That's what the date on the envelope says.

It was here, in this house, waiting for me.

And I didn't have a clue.