How was I supposed to get married to the man of my dreams when I knew something was going on between him and Georgia?

I couldn’t see what she was texting, but I saw his name. Georgia communicated more with my own future-husband than I did…

I’d checked my messages when I got off the plane. Not a single one from Asher.

Furthermore, why had I found a recurring charge for her yoga gym on our bank statements?!

I’d spent most of the flight pretending to sleep as I scrolled through our online joint bank account, ignoring the airline’s rules about putting my phone in airplane mode. The charges began last August, right after she opened the gym. It had been so long since I’d checked our account, trusting Asher to manage our finances. The fact that I hadn’t looked through our banking info sooner made me feel sheepish and naive...

What if I am about to marry a man who is unfaithful? Asher, who loathed exercise and rarely had time for sleeping, much less working out for leisure by doing stupid yoga…

I wondered how many nights or weekends he pretended to be working late or going in to finish paperwork on a case, when really, he was visiting the yoga studio with Georgia on a regular basis.

My mind was reeling with images of Georgia, her tawny, lithe body in its sports bras and Lycra shorts, stretching and bending, shaping her body in ways I never could, to please him…

There was a gasp beside me. “Oh my gosh, isn’t it gorgeous?! Please tell me you love it, Rosie-Poo!” Mara squealed.

I hadn’t heard my best friend call me that ridiculous nickname—Rosie-Poo—since freshman year of college. I stared at her, blinked, then looked up at the house.

I felt an almost out-of-body sensation, a strange detachment from reality. I could barely remember the ride here, my mind and body so preoccupied with my boyfriend’s possible—probable—affair with Georgia.

But now, seeing my best friend’s face lit up like a Christmas tree—cheeks wide and strained, waiting and praying for a good reaction from me—I couldn’t help feeling ashamed.

Asher be damned. I was here with my friends. Mara and Tinsley had gone to a whole lot of trouble—not to mention expense! —to celebrate this moment with me. Despite everything, I owed them my pleasure and grace this weekend…

Mara and I were the first to emerge from the car; the house loomed larger than life before me, taking my breath away.

“I don’t know what to say. This place is… It’s so breathtaking, Mara. I can’t believe I’m really here. It’s like something out of a storybook!” I grabbed her into a hug, feeling the sting of tears as I held her. “Thank you for doing this. You and Tinsley…” I whispered into her hair.