My family was amazingly supportive, mostly. My dad was thrilled to have me in Arizona; I suspect it was because the golfing is exceptional there, and who doesn’t want to get away from winter in Boston? Sheri, my stepmother, was more in tune with my abrupt need to flee the city—and more accurately, Jeremy—and she came over to help me pack, along with my older sister, Chelsea, who, having just had her own life-changing adventure, was full of words of encouragement and support.

Here’s the thing: Nothing makes me doubt my own decisions more than other people telling me that I’m doing the right thing. It’s as if their approval is a red flag warning me away from logic and reason. I think it’s my freewheeling impulsive nature that rejects positive reinforcement, as if because people approve of what I’m doing, then surely I must be making a mistake. My plane ticket had been bought, however. I was paddling in the rapids now.

Sophie and her husband, Miguel, met me at Sky Harbor International Airport. I’d left Boston before the sun was up and it chased us all the way across the country, catching up and passing us before we landed. It was midday when I stepped off the plane, wearing my thick knee-length wool coat and stylish black leather boots. Within minutes, I was sweating. It was glorious.

When I passed the security checkpoint, I spotted Sophie immediately. She is blond and blue-eyed, petite but muscled in the way only a former cheerleader who was always on the top of the human pyramid could be. She bounced on her toes, scanning the crowd, and I thought she’d leap into an air split when she saw me. I was not completely wrong. She began to jump and clap and then she ran at me. I had only a second to brace myself for impact.

“You’re here, you’re really here,” she cried as she locked me in a hug that strangled.

I laughed and hugged her back, feeling the rightness of my decision to come here sweep through me. It had been years since Sophie and I had lived in the same city. No matter how this turned out, it was going to be great to spend time with my best friend again.

“Babe, you’re going to choke her out.” Miguel chuckled from behind us.

Sophie let me go and stepped back to study my face, making sure I was still breathing.

“Hi, Annabelle,” Miguel said. He reached over his diminutive wife and hugged me.