Page 1 of Before Dawn

PART 1

This section precedes the timeline that overlaps withAfter Hours,book one in the Timeless Love Series. All the events happening take place up to the Epilogue ofAfter Hours.

Prologue

You and I both know how love works. It’s messy. It’s beautiful. It makes you feel like you’re on top of the world, only to tear you apart in ways you never imagined. Love isn’t always kind, and it sure as hell doesn’t always heal. It hurts. It can break you and leave you questioning everything you thought you knew.

I’ve felt that pain. I’ve stood in the wreckage, wondering if I’d ever find myself again.

For the longest time, I thought my story ended with Joshua. I thought that broken, twisted version of love would be the one I’d carry with me forever. That I’d be haunted by it, forced to live with the shadow of a man who took more from me than I could ever give.

Some nights, I’d wake up gasping, my heart racing, as if I could still feel his presence, his words echoing in my mind. The things he or even his family said about me; that I was too much, never enough or trying too hard. It played on a loop in my head, and I couldn’t find the off switch.

But you know what I learned? Sometimes a man is so insecure that he’ll break you just to make himself feel whole. He’ll make you doubt everything about yourself because he hates what he sees in the mirror. And when he’s done tearing himself down, he’ll tear you down, too. And to make matters even worse? He’ll end up blaming you for everything, sadly enough, youmay even believe him. Because when you’re already questioning yourself, it’s easy to think the problem lies within you. I’ve been there. I’ve sat with those thoughts, feeling like my chest might cave in under the weight of them. But I’ll be the one to tell you—it’s NEVER your fault.

I know what it’s like to feel like you’re not enough. To look in the mirror and barely recognize the person staring back. To wake up each day with a pit in your stomach, bracing yourself for the next thing to go wrong. Or to stay up late, with tears running down your face as you pray and ask:‘Why me?’ Iknow the feeling of being consumed by that ache, the one that sits in your chest and steals your breath when you least expect it.

But I’m here to tell you this:no one, no man, no heartache should ever steal your light because you have the power to shine too brightly.Even when your thoughts are screaming at you, telling you otherwise, you’re stronger than you think.

It wasn’t until Mikkel—God, Mikkel—that I even started to believe I could be whole again. He didn’t just save me; he reminded me that I could save myself. When I felt like I was drowning, he became the anchor that kept me afloat. He didn’t brush off my moments of panic or my need for reassurance. He didn’t tell me to just “move on” or “get over it.” He stayed. He listened. He held me when I couldn’t hold myself together. And most importantly,he saw me.

Mikkel had pulled me out of my darkest moments, showing me what love truly meant—how it felt when someone wanted to build me up, not break me down. He had become my strength when I thought I had none left. He hadn’t come into my life to sweep me off my feet. No, he had stood beside me and straightened my legs so I could run.

I know you’ve felt it too—that fear, that doubt. The intrusive thoughts that creep in, whispering that it’s all too good to be true, that this person might hurt you just like the last one. I know what it’s like to over analyze every word, every look, every pause, trying to prepare yourself for the moment it all falls apart. I know what it’s like to wonder if you’ll ever feel whole again.

But I’m telling you, there’s light at the end of that tunnel. Sometimes it doesn’t look the way you expect, but when it comes, it’s blinding.

Mine just happened to come in the form of a handsome, tattooed 6’5” Hispanic gentleman who positively changed my whole life. And if there’s light for me, then there’s light for you, too.

So, keep going.

Don’t give up.

Your story isn’t over yet.

And in the meantime, sit tight and read mine.

Chapter One

Abigail-Ann

“Love is not something you find; love is something that finds you.”

~ Loretta Young

THREE WEEKS EARLIER

Get it together, Abigail,” I muttered, blinking hard to keep the tears at bay.

The terminal at San Francisco International Airport hummed with the electric mix of eager anticipation and heartfelt farewells. Travelers flowed like a restless tide, each swept up in their own journey of goodbyes and new beginnings.

I sat amidst the crowd, eyes fixed on the departure board as a knot tightened in my stomach. Tears blurred my vision, turning the glowing letters into a watery haze.

Flight AA17638 to John F. KennedyAirport.

Yet, despite the urgency, my mind lingered in the past, replaying memories like a broken record. The flicker of overhead lights matched my racing heartbeat, amplifying my anxiety.

Five years.

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