I haven’t seen Noah Kennedy in three years. And he’s never seen our son.

The last time I gave into his intoxicating seduction, the tour bus rolled out of town before I found out I was pregnant. 

Not that he ever knew. Growing up with an absentee dad myself, I vowed to protect my child from the heartache and empty promises of vagabond musicians, so I kept my secrets.

Tonight, his band is in town, and he’s standing on my doorstep, like a ghost from the past, tempting me with a love I never got over. If only he’d stay, I might finally tell him about our son, sleeping inside, safe, happy, loved.

But confessing’s a risk I can’t afford with more than my heart on the line. Just because he’s here tonight, it doesn’t mean anything’s changed. He tumbled in with the wind, and he’ll blow right back out on a tour bus tomorrow, because the band always comes first.

Would he stay if he knew?

Or would he just hate me forever?