Chapters (31)
- Cover
- Title Page
- Dedication
- Author’s Note
- 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
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-One
- Chapter Twenty-Two
- Acknowledgments
- Discover More
- About the Author
- Also by Alison Bliss
- Praise for Alison Bliss
Preslee inhaled a deep breath and then closed her eyes to keep from shedding the tears building behind her eyelids. Just hearing that Adam had said she was worth waiting for had her heart softening a little. Her first instinct was to go to him and try to get back some semblance of what they’d lost when she’d walked out on him.
But she couldn’t.
No way was she going to let Adam off the hook that easily. Just because he’d said something nice about her to her father didn’t mean that she would just forget about how he’d hurt and embarrassed her.
While her father fully believed Adam had fallen in love with her, she still had serious doubts. Maybe taking a step back from the entire situation was exactly what she needed and would give her some perspective. After all, Adam said she was worth the wait, right?
Good. Then let him prove it.
“Honey,” her dad said, snaring her attention. “I think I’ll go microwave us some popcorn while you grab those old home videos from the attic. I can’t wait to see your mom and reminisce about her for a while. I miss her every day.”
She smiled. “Me too, Dad. I’ll be right back.”
Preslee headed into the hallway, yanked the pull-down ladder out of the ceiling, and stepped onto it. The wooden ladder creaked a little under her weight but seemed steady enough as she climbed up into the musty-smelling attic.
Once she made it inside, she pulled the string on a light above her head and began searching for the box of old videos. After a few minutes, she found the clearly marked box against the wall beneath a box of old photo albums. The framed picture on top immediately caught her eye. She lifted it and blew a light covering of dust from it, scattering it into the stale air.
It was a picture of her parents on their wedding day.
She rubbed her finger over her mother’s pretty face as sadness swamped her. Her chin trembled, and she swallowed hard. God, why did she have to die? She hated losing her mom at all, but especially at such a young age. Her mother had never gotten the chance to take Preslee shopping for her first bra, see her all dressed up for prom, or watch her walk across the stage during her high school graduation.