But the following Monday at school I discovered that we were in the same grade. We took the same classes—Mrs. Ferguson for AP English, Mr. Clark for chemistry—even if Trey never exerted himself the way I did. “Suck-up,” he’d tease when he came over to our house to study. “Slacker,” I’d retort. We both went out for the school play, both ran cross-country in fall and track in spring. We were friends.

Which was why it was such a mistake to complicate our relationship with sex.

I saw that now. Why couldn’t Trey?

CHAPTER 2

Meg

When we got married, I promised John—I promised myself, really—I wouldn’t go running to Momma with every little thing. I didn’t want John thinking I depended on my mother for advice. Anyway, we both agreed a married couple should solve their own problems.

Not that we were having problems. Every day I told myself how lucky I was to be living the life I’d always wanted. The life my parents had.

I buckled the twins into the big white Ford Explorer John insisted we needed. They looked adorable in their car seats, all dressed up in matching red-and-white outfits like little Prince George and Princess Charlotte.

“Juice,” DJ said.

I kissed his smooth head. “Not now, honey.” Even the lidded cups with straws I used in the car were no guarantee he wouldn’t dribble all over his tiny jacket. “We’re going to the fire station.”

Daisy bounced in her car seat. “See Santa!”

“That’s right.” I adjusted the barrette holding down her hair, suppressing a sigh over the loss of her pretty baby curls. “Santa will be there.”

Along with half the population of Bunyan. Every November, the volunteer fire department and rescue squad held a fund-raiser with free blood pressure checks and a Fire Safety House and Santa riding in on a shiny red fire truck. The early visit gave parents a jump on their children’s wish lists and the local merchants a jump on the mall.

When we were first married, we’d gone together. John and me. Not to see Santa, of course. But on weekends when he didn’t have a wrestling tournament—or a meet or a practice on Saturday morning—we wandered the stalls at the farmers’ market, holding hands and sampling cider. Part of the community. Everybody knew and liked the Caswell Cougars’ wrestling coach.

I’d always known I wanted a family, to share the kind of love my parents had. When I binge-watched Pride and Prejudice with my sisters growing up, we all accepted that book-loving Jo was destined for Darcy. But that was okay. One day, I knew, my Bingley would come. I waited patiently while my girlfriends from high school all paired off, while my sorority sisters went out to bars and created online dating profiles, fell in love, and got engaged. In the two years after college, I bought six bridesmaids’ dresses with matching shoes, shopped for shower gifts and wedding presents, organized bridal luncheons and bachelorette weekends in Myrtle Beach and Charleston.