Suddenly something unexpected came over me, something I knew he felt too. I’d never experienced it before, but out of nowhere my belly twisted low in my gut, and my heart stammered, thumping heavily in my chest. It was an unfamiliar feeling I didn’t necessarily dislike. Every day I had dreamed of my very first kiss, of Nash’s lips on mine. But it was just a dream. It was all a dream that would never come true, because this was real life, and happily ever afters were just in books.

“You’re my best friend, Murph.” Nash leaned in even closer, resting his forehead against mine. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

I smiled, closing my eyes a moment, breathing him and his words in. Looking at him again, I blinked once, watching him so closely it was as if I could see straight through to his soul, and it was beautiful. “We’ll always have each other,” I whispered.

Nash leaned forward, pressing his lips to my forehead, and I gasped, not having expected such an intimate closeness from him. “Just the two of us,” he said so softly. “Forever and always.”

I looked up, meeting his eyes, and when I caught the ghost of a smile pulling at his lips, in that instant I knew everything in the world was perfect. Deep down butterflies swarmed in my tummy as I realized maybe—just maybe—one day, I would get my happy ending, after all.

The sound of a car horn pulls me from my past and I startle, shaking my head free of the reverie clouding my mind. My phone vibrates and I glance down to see a notification from Uber on the screen. Peering through the curtain I see a silver Toyota idling at the curb. With one last glance at my reflection, I exhale a heavy breath and collect my purse. And, with my heart a little heavier than it had been only moments ago, I know it’s time to face my past, now or never.

Chapter 4

Harrington Country Club is certainly not the type of place I frequent in my spare time. It’s the kind of place a girl like me just doesn’t belong. Women with handbags worth more than my car, dripping in diamonds and pearls, accompany men who exude wealth and stature. And, here I am in my old dress, wearing shoes I dug out from the very bottom of a bargain bin during the Black Friday sales at Nordstrom’s two years ago, smiling nervously at the club host as I walk through the grand entrance, scared I’m going to be asked to leave.

“Can I help you, miss?” the host asks, crossing the foyer to reach me in such a hurry it’s as if I’m trying to sneak in.

I straighten a little, squaring my shoulders. “I’m here for the Harris-Hutchins dinner party.” I lift my chin a little higher as if I’m the kind of woman who frequents the most exclusive country clubs every Saturday night.