The past twenty-five months had been tumultuous. When her father died the spring of her sophomore year, she was thrown into a tarry pit of chaos and grief. Dad had been the world’s best, and his death was so shocking it changed Lauren’s world. The rest of her college time was spent in the weird limbo of loss where she went through life, eating and showering, doing projects and papers and hanging with her friends and sister. Sometimes she found herself laughing, and it came almost as a surprise. Sometimes, she’d stop abruptly in the middle of a sidewalk, asking herself, “Am I awake right now? Is this really my life? Are you seriously saying I will never see my father again?”

The fabulous Dave Carlisle, beloved by all, hated by none, devoted husband, adoring father, excellent neighbor, dog lover—sweet Dave Carlisle who ran two miles a day and didn’t eat dessert, just slumped over at his desk one afternoon, a half-finished container of strawberry yogurt next to him. No profound last words. No family holding his hand, whispering how much they loved him.

Lauren had worshipped her dad. No man was perfect, of course . . . except her dad. He was funny, corny, indulgent enough, strict enough, and went through life happily stunned at his great luck in marrying Donna, the love of his life. Daughters? What could be better than two perfect girls? Nothing! Lauren knew it was a rare dad who could make both his girls feel like they were his favorite. When Jen had sweet little Sebastian, just five months before her dad’s untimely death, he had cried at the sight of his grandson, and later sent flowers to his wife and both his girls, congratulating them on their new status in life—grandmother, mother, aunt.

At the age of twenty, Lauren would’ve been hard-pressed to find a single time her father had let her down, been irritable with her or shown her anything but love and wonder. Darius, Jen’s husband, had been pronounced “almost as wonderful as Daddy” by Jen herself, to which Darius said he’d have to up his game.

“Are you kidding, son? You’re fantastic,” her dad had said. “You just take care of my little girl.”

Lauren herself had ridiculous standards when it came to dating. She and Sarah would argue cheerfully over this; Sarah thought everyone deserved a chance, and Lauren . . . Lauren didn’t want to waste time on anyone who showed the slightest red flag. She had seen how a real man should treat a woman. She didn’t want anything less.