Fear consumed him. It had been circling in his head for hours, tightening its grip on his chest like a vice. What if she didn’t remember? What if she didn’t love him anymore? What if she broke off the engagement? What if he had already lost her?

Tears traced down his face as he sat beside your hospital bed, clutching your hand like a lifeline. He had been so damn stupid. The guilt was eating him alive, clawing at his insides, making it hard to breathe. All because of one ride. One reckless, fucking ride.

For years, it had always been the two of you, riding together, day and night. His bike, your arms wrapped around him, the wind in your hair—it was your thing. Your freedom. Your escape. And now? Now, five hours ago, that freedom had turned into a nightmare.

He was fine. Not a single scratch. But you? You were unconscious, head wrapped in bandages, looking so fragile it made him sick. And the worst part? He couldn’t remember anything except the sound of his own scream. That raw, broken sound still echoed in his skull, over and over, like a punishment he knew he deserved.

You would live. The doctors said so. But would you remember him? Would you forgive him?

Because Rafe Cameron knew one thing for sure—he would never forgive himself.