Chapters (28)
- Cover
- Welcome
- Dedication
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Epilogue
- About the Author
- Also by Jane Porter
- Praise for The Frog Prince
- 5 Spot Send Off
- Thank you for buying this ebook, published by Hachette Digital.
I laugh even as I fight a faint sob. I am scared. That’s exactly what’s happening here. I’m scared of a long weekend on my own. I’m scared of being alone with my thoughts, scared that the exhaustion isn’t exhaustion but maybe depression. And I don’t need to go away to be depressed—I can be depressed right here at home.
“Call me once you get there,” Anne says. “Give me all the details. Make me green with envy.”
I look around the crowded airport, see far too many bright, smiley faces, and wonder how people can be so cheerful when it’s still dark outside. I should have had coffee before I left. Maybe if I’d had coffee, I’d be happy now, too. “You’re sure you can’t join me later? Exchange your ticket… fly out as soon as Phil’s better?”
She sighs. “I don’t see it happening, Jack.”
Because Philip never wanted her to go in the first place.
Because Philip still can’t accept that Daniel and I aren’t together anymore. Philip fought the divorce, tried to counsel us, tried to support us. And I respect him for trying to save our marriage; but Daniel and I didn’t divorce after eleven years of marriage because Daniel likes blue and I like pink. We divorced because there were huge, painful, insurmountable differences between us, and our kids were caught in the middle, and the kids were suffering, too.
“You can do this, Jack.”
“I know. I’ll be fine.” And to hell with all of them, I think, squaring my shoulders. I am going to go. And I am going to have a good time. There’s no reason I can’t go and have a good time.
Even if I will be celebrating forty on my own.
For a second I feel sick, heartsick, and disappointed. Not in Anne, but in me.
Forty and divorced and very much alone for this birthday. If there’s a bright spot in this picture, it’s that now I don’t have to broadcast the fact that the eggs in my ovaries have begun their final decline.
“You’re sure?” Anne’s desperate for reassurance. Nic’s the sensitive, creative one; Kristine’s unbelievably competent; and Anne’s the Earth Mother. Warm, funny, kind, and patient. Must be the Taurus in her.