My brows knit together. “Get what?”

“I grew up in a city with eight million people.” She laughs once, shaking her head. “And, don’t get me wrong, I love New York, but this place …” She sighs, looking around at my poky little store with the pale pink walls, lace curtains and the gingerbread-man-printed drapes, black and white floor tiles with a million scuff marks. “This is Nash’s home. You, Harley, Graceville, it’s all home to him, and I get it, because it’s something I’ve never had.”

I press my lips together, pausing before finally speaking and breaking the silence that’s settled between us. “You must hate me for what I did,” I whisper, unsure if she even heard me or not.

Anna glances up toward the ceiling a moment, her lips twisting to the side in consideration before she flashes me a knowing look. “Actually …” She shrugs. “It’s because of what you did that I don’t hate you.”

My brow quirks in confusion of its own accord, and Anna laughs at my obvious reaction. She steps forward, moving around me and pulling herself up onto the counter. I tentatively follow suit, sitting on the very edge, right next to her, watching as she smiles to herself. “I owe you an apology, Murph.”

“Huh?” I scoff. “You owe me an apology?” I gape at her, at a loss for words, and all I can do is continue to stare at her.

She flashes me a slightly guilty-looking smile. “When I met Nash he told me all about you. All about the girl from Graceville, Georgia. The girl who owned his heart. The girl who saved him. The girl he swore he’d never stop loving.”

My heart jumps up into the back of my throat, causing me to choke on my own tongue. I cough, clearing my throat, gawping at her, not having expected that.

“Of course I was insanely jealous. Jealous of a girl I’d never even met, because I knew … I’d never be able to compare to you. You shared so much with him. So much more than I will ever fully understand. You’re everything I’m never going to be, Murph.”

“M-me?” I laugh incredulously, pointing to myself before pushing my glasses up my nose.

She chuckles softly, gauging me, looking at me closely, and I can’t help but cower beneath her scrutiny. I know I look a mess with my unruly curls all frizzy and wayward, wearing a tank top, sans bra, holding an empty glass of vodka at eleven o’clock in the damn morning. I place the glass onto the counter so I don’t I drop it to smash against the floor.

“Yeah, you, Murph.” She laughs at me with an incredulous look in her eyes. “I did everything I could do to try to convince him I was the one for him. Not you. I even … and I’m so sorry—” She pauses and I watch as she closes her eyes a moment, seeming to take a fortifying breath before swallowing hard and looking at me. “One night we were at a friend’s birthday dinner, and Nash went to the bathroom. Well, he left his cell phone on the table and it lit up, and I saw a text message from you.”