Ten years ago I left my marriage and the love of my life.

On paper my husband checked the boxes.
1. Devastatingly handsome
2. Wild and carefree
3. And a skilled lover. if you know what I mean

But Corjan Powell was a bad husband.

I knew we both deserved more. We were too young to be saddled with a lifetime of resentment and regret. After a year of confrontations and no change, I didn't even give him the chance to refuse divorce papers. One disastrous fight too far, I wrote him a note and I left.

"But Bree, what happened over those ten years?" you ask.

Resentment.
And regrets.

Until one random Sunday afternoon, I collide with someone in a crowded airport and look up into Corjan's familiar, intense blue eyes.

I'm scared of my own reaction. The racing heart, the sweaty palms, the shock telling me I'm not over him. I do the only rational thing and escape as fast as I can onto my connecting flight.

The problem? I accidentally grab his cell phone from the floor and leave mine behind.

Now we're a thousand miles apart and he has my entire life in his hands, and I have his in mine.

And we're about to find out if there's love left between us or if we strayed too far after all this time.

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