They were quiet for a while, Ryann still trying to absorb this news. The emotions of the morning were warring with each other, but one was winning out—happiness. The resentment, the anger, the loneliness—all of it was drifting away. Her best friend was getting married.

“Anyway,” Stuart said, clearing his throat, “will you?”

“Will I what?”

“Will you be my maid of honor?”

She laughed. “Of course! What kind of jerk would I have to be to turn that down? And anyway, I think I still have your wedding dream book around somewhere.”

“You what?” Stuart laughed. “I can’t believe you kept that.”

“It’s only twenty years old,” she said, smiling. “And I keep everything—you know that.”

“You have to bring that when you come here.”

“I will.”

He was quiet again, and she thought she heard a soft sob.

“So you’ll really do this?” he asked, voice breaking. “Even after I treated you so poorly?”

“Of course, you old queen! You can’t get rid of me that easy.”

“Thank you. I’ve missed you so much.”

“Me, too.”

They were quiet again, and she had to brush away a few loose tears. She was relieved, happy, and somehow sad—relieved to hear from him again, happy for his news, but sad that he seemed to have moved on without her. The two of them had been closer than siblings since the day they met—closer than any friend she’d ever had before or since. Losing him these last months had been like losing part of herself.

“So how quickly can you get here?” he asked.

She flinched. “What? What do you mean?”

“How soon can we expect you in town? I’d say you could stay with us, but Jai has about a thousand cats, and I know you’re not a fan. There’s a pretty cute B&B in town, though, or I could see if one of Jai’s sisters could put you up—whatever you’re more comfortable with. I know you have the money, but a couple weeks in a hotel is a lot to ask.”

Ryann paused. Had she missed something?

“Wait a minute,” she said. “When are you guys getting married?”

“Oh! I didn’t mention it, did I? In a little over three weeks. On Valentine’s Day.”

Chapter Two

Ryann had never been more uncomfortable or worn out. No, scratch that—she had, once, after taking the cheap bus between Puerto Vallarta and Mexico City in her early twenties. She and Stuart had thought it might be fun to travel like the locals. It hadn’t. That said, this trip to Colorado was almost as bad, and it hadn’t been some naive, youthful, classist whim. Instead, every part of her journey had conspired against her to put her right here.