Rain pummeled the windshield, and heavy clouds dominated the sky above, blocking the top of the city's skyscrapers. Casey Castañeda flexed his hands on the steering wheel, strangely pleased with the gloomy weather. It fit his mood perfectly. His eyes peered through the downpour, raking over the bright white tombstones peppering the green grass., shielded from the deluge by large, leafy trees. There were a hundred different places he'd rather be right now—Antarctica with no clothes, a pit of viper snakes, hell, even Mars. Anywhere but here, with the memories of that night grabbing him by the balls. He swore the scent of burnt wood and singed flesh was still in nose. At night, when he closed his eyes, there were even times he relived the moment the wall came crashing down, the final second before his father was gone, before his life changed forever.

"Come on, Casey. You can do it," Yael told him from the passenger seat. He kept his gaze fixed straight ahead, certain if he so much as looked in her direction, his grumpiness would evaporate into pure bliss.

"No. I can't."

"It's been five months."

"So?"

"So, it's time."

"Why are you making me do this?"

"Because he's your father."

"We weren't close. You know that."

"You have to go."

"I don't."

"Don't be a baby."

"Well, what else do you want me to say, Yael?"

"Maybe try recognizing what he did for us that day, what he risked."

She didn't get it. Casey dropped his head back and rested it on the seat. "I've spent most of my days since the fire stuck in hospitals and clinics and physical therapy. I mean, for Christ's sake, I have new skin that itches like hell on my legs, and let's not forget the epic brain swelling, which wouldn't have happened if not for him."

Yael snorted. "You sound like a spoiled toddler."

"Baby or toddler, what is it?"

"Right now? Both." He heard her sigh. "Shit happens. Ignoring your problems doesn't make them go away, trust me. Look at what Haustin did—"

"Haustin was no saint."

"No, but he ran away from the hard stuff. Just like you're doing now."

"Ouch," Casey muttered, refusing to acknowledge how rational she sounded. As usual. He knew he hadn't been easy to be around lately. The trauma of that day, and his lengthy healing, had stolen some of his normally bright outlook on life. Maybe he needed to do this, get it over with and move on to the future. He had so many positive things going for him.

"Look at me," Yael ordered.

Casey pretended he didn't hear her, wanting to wallow a little bit longer.

"Look. At. Me."

He obeyed, turning to gaze at the beautiful creature beside him and taking in her chestnut colored hair, the big eyes he always felt like he would drown in, and then he looked lower. In an instant, every shred of darkness fled his body, filling it with light and love and hope. Jesus, he sounded like a damn Hallmark card. He didn't care. Every time he saw the swell of Yael's belly, warmth engulfed him from the inside out. He watched her caress the bump, leaving her palm resting there.

"Being here isn't about blame, Casey. It's about moving on. The day I finally heard the medical examiner had identified some fragments of my parents' remains, I was able to say goodbye and let go of the past. Yes, the past is always with us, but it shouldn't affect our future, not unless we let it." She paused, and he couldn't help feeling a sliver of embarrassment at being weak. That was not the kind of man he wanted to be, for her or for their baby. Yael reached over and placed his hand on her stomach. "Your father died in front of you. It's terrible and tragic, but do not let it define who you are. Forgive him for losing his way and concentrate on the good memories you have with him. Otherwise, it will tear you apart."

"Yes, Miss Dali Lama." Her lips quirked, tempting him to lean over and kiss her. Instead, he said, "If I admit you're right, will you hold it over me?"

"For at least the next fifty years."

Casey smiled, hating how foreign the movement felt. "I like the sound of that."

He gave in to his earlier impulse and drew her to him, kissing her. It was a perfect moment—the rain beating on the roof of his car, the feel of her growing belly under his palm, the cemetery beyond the window.

Maybe not so perfect, he thought as he pulled away. "I guess I should go do this."

"Want me to go with you?"

A voice in his head told him yes, but he ignored it. "No. I'm good. I don't want you getting wet and catching a cold. I need to do this on my own."

"I understand." Yael patted his knee. "I'll text Haustin and let him know we'll be a little late."

"I don't know why I agreed to dinner in the first place."

"Because I asked nicely."

"He's your ex. I don't enjoy picturing the two of you together."

"Then don't."

Casey chuckled. "I'll try."

"He and Lindsey are happy, and all I see him as now is a friend. You have nothing to worry about. Besides, I thought you two were all buddy-buddy after the Jets game."

"I didn't appreciate your matchmaking. I will, however, admit he's not so bad."

"Did that hurt?" Her lips quirked into a half-grin.

"As a matter of fact, it did. I'll show you where later."

"Perv."

"Did you just call me a pervert at the cemetery?"

"Yes."

Her smug expression stole his breath away. "God, I love you."

"Good. I love you, too. That's why you're letting me come with you."

"Fine." Casey knew better than to argue with her.

Unable to delay any longer, Casey closed his eyes and prepared himself for the goodbye he was about to make. Reaching into the back seat, he snatched the umbrella and opened the door. He skirted the car and opened the passenger door for Yael, using the umbrella to shield her from the rain. As she linked her arm through his, it gave him the courage to move forward with his life—which began with this final goodbye. Yael had done her healing, as had Haustin, and their demons were far more vicious than his. Now it was Casey's turn, for the sake of the amazing woman beside him... and their child.

This is the end. Hope you've enjoyed reading Yael, Haustin, and Casey's story.

May we meet again.