[Return to Me 01] • Return to Me

PROLOGUE

What if you lost the love of your life, and they came back to you? Would you know how to grab ahold of a second chance – and make it work? Zeke did, and he wouldn't screw it up this time.

. . .

"It can't be; my eyes are playing tricks on me … Brooke Lakelyn Tobias. That really is you!"

At the use of her full name, which very few people knew, Brooke turned. She was thinking the same thing, It couldn't be. It just couldn't be. She'd know that deep baritone anywhere.

Zeke Laird Granger.

He'd broken her heart five years ago, and had nearly broken her.

. . .

"Our timing is just not right, Brooke."

"But I love you, Zeke," she said, blinking back tears and trying to swallow past the lump in her throat. "I love you so much. We can find a way; if two people really love each other, they can always find a way. Please, please, just …" she begged.

"I'm sorry. I just can't do this right now. I think it's best we just go our separate ways, Brooke."

The sun streamed through the windows of her fourth-floor apartment. But all she felt was darkness, as black as the bowels of hell.

"Zeke please, please don't do this!"

In spite of hear tearful pleas, Zeke walked to the front door of her apartment, opened it and walked out of her life. He didn't even look back, she thought through gulping sobs. Not once.

Brooke crumbled down the inside of the front door of the apartment, her body pooled in the fetal position on the floor. Heaving, animal-like moans escaped her until there were no tears left.

Three hours later, eyes swollen and throat parched, she'd dragged herself up from the floor, took a sip of water and climbed into bed – where she stayed for the next three days.

. . .

Every time she relived that day, Brooke was embarrassed. She'd been a sniveling, begging, broken shell of a woman. No one in her life today would have recognized the person she was five years ago. She barely recognized that person.

"Well what brings you back to the Big Apple?" Zeke asked, snapping her reverie.

. . .

Damn she was more beautiful than ever! An exercise enthusiast, her body was always in perfect shape. Her best asset, in his opinion, was her perfectly curved bottom. He never tired of looking at it, and as they always slept in the nude, he would admire it as she bounced out of bed each morning. His nature starting to rise at the turn his thoughts took, Zeke forced his mind back to the conversation, saying, "What brings you back? Are you here to stay, or just visiting?"

"I'm back for good. LA just wasn't my scene."

"I knew it ... You're a New York City kind of girl."

I can't believe he has the balls to stand here and have a conversation with me like nothing happened. Doesn't he know he almost destroyed me?

"Speaking of scenes, how about we check out some in the greatest city in the world sometime?" Zeke said, anxious not to let her go without knowing when he'd see her again.

Did he just ask me out? Brooke thought. The unmitigated gall of the man!

It took all of Brooke's resolve to carry on a civil conversation with Zeke. It had been five years since they'd seen each other, but now that she was back in his presence, it seemed like five minutes. She was shaken by how forcefully all the pain he'd caused her came rushing back. But she wasn't the naïve little 25-year-old she'd been then.

"Sure, Zeke.