Page 1

Chapter 1

Annie

JULY | Balance: $52,623

I waited at the end of the jetway, staring down the airport’s hallway, watching for his face. I did my best not to check my phone every ten seconds, which was turned on full volume anyway.

“Miss, I’m sorry, but we’re about to have to close the doors for takeoff.”

I gave my most winning smile. “Maybe one more minute?” I asked as my phone dinged a few times in succession.

The flight attendant pursed her lips. “Thirty seconds.”

I checked my messages.

R

Not going to make it. She knows

Good luck at the wedding

I’ll see you at the office when you get back

Dinner and you can tell me all about it?

My stomach dropped, my polite smile faltering as I struggled not to burst into tears. Not only had he not boarded in Chicago, he’d never made his first flight in Nashville. He knew hours ago that he wasn’t coming. And yet, there I was: playing the fool, again.

“Oh, um, I guess they’re not coming. I’ll just board now. Thanks for waiting.”

The flight attendant’s face turned sympathetic as she scanned my boarding pass. “Men are rarely not a disappointment.”

On a shuddering inhale, I nodded, not meeting her eyes. I couldn’t stand to see the pity there. I had to pull myself together before boarding. People I knew were on the same flight.

I hurried to my seat, waving to those I knew on my way: Kitty’s friend Jessie, and her boyfriend. Jessie’s boyfriend gave a big smile and waved back, while another hockey guy I vaguely recognized from the engagement party sat behind him. His eyes flicked to mine as his ears reddened.

Fortunately, since I’d had a seat next to Roger, I was alone in the row, and a few rows back from the others. I shoved my carry-on under the seat in front of me, having checked my big bag in Nashville.

Once I sat back in my seat, I pulled out my phone and did what I should have done months before.

This is over. See you at the office.

Then I turned off my phone and calculated just how hard I could cry and not draw attention to myself.

* * *

I jolted out of my stupor as the plane hit the runway in Charleston.

I should have been excited. It was my best friend’s wedding. I’d successfully planned and executed a dream bachelorette in Big Sur for all of her rich and famous friends, and gave a great speech at their engagement party. By all accounts, I was a picture-perfect maid of honor. And notably, Kitty’d chosen me for that role over all her rich and famous friends. Kitty and I had been part of each other’s lives the longest, for sure. We’d seen each other through snot-nosed ugly cry heartbreaks. The loss of loved ones. Pets. Getting our periods. Holding each other’s hair back as we puked in corn fields while we tried to bounce back from said heartbreaks. My true ride-or-die, who always made time for me no matter how big and important she was.

All I felt was numb. And not a fun, quiet numbness—a staticky chaos. A numbness that made me restless and antsy.

Maybe I could have one of those flings with the best man that romantic comedies made seem so appealing. I’d had a massive crush on Kitty’s brother in high school. Maybe reigniting the flame would be a fun distraction.

I swiped open my phone as the plane taxied. My background was a picture of the last flowers Roger’d sent me. The edge of the note was visible. “Love you, kid.”

He’d just had to miss a dinner with me, making it up by sending flowers. I was somewhat used to it. After all, I knew I was number two.

I vowed to browse the internet for a more fun background. Maybe Kitty and I could take a cute selfie over the weekend and that could be my new background.

Opening my texts, my last message chain with Roger was still at the top. I couldn’t bring myself to delete it even though it was like poking a bruise to look at it. I knew I’d made the right choice. I’d fallen prey to the oldest trick in the book. He says he’s going to leave her.

They never leave her.

You’re always the fallout. Always destined to play the fool.

I could text everyone I knew going to this wedding that I was in town and excited. That would push his message farther down in the chain. I sent a quick one to Kitty that we’d just landed.

Kitty

GAH! Waiting at baggage. Have a biscuit with your name on it

Got one for Rog too but he probably only likes healthy stuff ew

We were going to drive together to the wedding venue at the Greenbrier. I was genuinely happy for her and Guy. They’d been obsessed with each other since that one year he lived in Charleston.

But I wasn’t supposed to be alone. Roger was supposed to be there. He was supposed to be all mine for the weekend. He’d figured out an excuse with his wife. He promised she wouldn’t even really care if she did know, because he knew she was doing the same thing we were doing with someone else.

I couldn’t waste any more time being second best.

That makes me sound like a tough, independent woman. I wasn’t. I really believed he loved me, that we were going to get together. He just had to stay married a little longer. Then he’d give her the papers and he’d be mine.

What a fucking fool I was.

What was I going to tell Kitty? I’d told her I met Roger through work, but not that we worked at the same firm. I also failed to mention that he was married. I figured Kitty would kill me. What kind of a fraud would it make me to be maid of honor in a wedding while up until two hours before, I was actively disrespecting the sanctity of marriage?

Why had I done it in the first place? Self-loathing and self-pity weighed heavy on me.

I walked slowly to delay catching up to Jessie and the boys, not fully ready to make small talk or answer questions about where my boyfriend was. Yes, I had ended things, but the wound was raw and fresh. It still hurt. Bad.

Was I even going to tell Kitty at all? This was her big weekend. I didn’t want to burden her with the truth. Definitely not the full truth.

I’d tell her when she got back from her honeymoon. I couldn’t make this weekend about me.

I stopped in the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face, using a makeup wipe to remove what I’d put on with him in mind. My best friend could deal with seeing me bare-faced. I practiced my smile in the mirror, working to make the expression reach my eyes. If I couldn’t put on the Markham Smile, Kitty would see straight through me. Green eyes, two dimples, and a smattering of freckles. My dad, my siblings, and I all had it. Almost like my mom had never even dipped into the gene pool and we all just spawned from my dad.

I held a deep breath thinking of my dad. He’d be at the wedding too, with his new wife Sandy. More people I’d have to explain Roger’s absence to. I pictured Dad and me sharing a dance. The challenge would be not falling apart upon sight of him. Satisfied with my convincing expression, I left the bathroom to meet my fate.

“BESTIE!” Kitty waited at the end of the walkway with her arms open, legs wide in an exaggerated squat like I was a toddler running at her. That got a genuine smile out of me, giving her what she wanted by running toward her and smashing us together in a hug. “Thank you so much for coming, Annie.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” I said into her hair.

“Where’s Rog?”

I pulled back. “He had a work thing come up. He wishes he could make it. Sends his regrets.”

Kitty’s eyes narrowed. “Everything okay there?”

My airways constricted, but I pushed through. “Yeah, yeah, all good. Just, ya know, the firm.”

Kitty was ready to interrogate, but Guy interrupted. “Annie!”

I was wrapped up in his muscled, gangly arms and rocked from side to side. “Did you have a good flight?”

“Yeah. Quick, easy.”

Guy’s eyebrows went up. “Easy? Mikey said it was bumpy as hell.”

Jessie, her boyfriend “Mikey” or Ben, and the other hockey player joined us.

“We all know Mikey has a penchant for the dramatic. We had a few bumps over Ohio and he acts like the plane almost fell out of the sky,” Jessie sighed, opening her arms to hug me. “How are you, darling? Sorry we didn’t get to chat in Chicago.”

Jessie and I had bonded during the bachelorette party, where she was a big help when I cooked our pre-going-out brunch. Logistics were worked out in the present, all of us girls taking the van with Kitty’s wedding dress in it, and the boys taking the car.

“Fewer farts anyway,” Kitty said. “Plus Jessie can eat Roger’s biscuit.”

“Hell yeah, is that from Tootie’s?” Jessie asked, mouth dropping open. Tootie’s is a beloved West Virginia institution, renowned for its delightfully artery-clogging biscuit sandwiches that sometimes haunted my dreams.

“Oh, that’s right, I forgot you’re West Virginian, too!” I said. “No promises on the farts, Kitty Cat. Tootie’s brings it out of everybody.”

I was doing better than expected. Look at me, cracking jokes and everything! Being around Kitty was relaxing. Guess that’s the whole reason we’d been best friends all those years.

The baggage belt buzzed for incoming luggage and those of us from the flight stepped forward to claim it.

As I bent for what I thought was my bag, I bumped heads with one of the hockey guys. We both shouted at the same time, then snapped to look at each other.

“Were you trying to steal my bag?” I asked, stepping to follow the black bag with the red tag on it.

“I . . . was not? Because it’s my bag?” He walked alongside me, both of us awkwardly chasing the bag in question.

“What are you talking about? I put a red tag on my bag so I could always pick it out.”

“Yeah, well, so did I,” he said, grabbing it as an identical bag appeared at the beginning of the belt.

I flapped my jaw shut, and for whatever reason, this whole interaction was overwhelming to me. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, or the fact that my boyfriend was no longer my boyfriend and had never really been my boyfriend. Tears welled, and I cast my eyes to the floor.

“See?” His voice was gentle as he opened the tag to show the scrawled “Nick Oberbeck.” Not the precisely penned “Annabelle Markham.” His cat-green eyes met mine and softened, his jaw going slack as he caught my expression. He pressed his lips together, trying to decide how to handle me, but said nothing more.

“Yeah. Funny how that works,” I said, sniffing to ward off my tears. A bag and a little head bonk was nothing to cry over. I was being ridiculous.

When my bag arrived beside us, he bent to take it off the belt. “I take it this one is yours,” he flipped open the tag, “Annabelle Markham?”

“Annie,” I corrected.

“Annie Markham,” he said with a soft smile. “You have excellent taste in suitcases.”

My stomach swooped at his kindness and attempt to smooth things over. Then a wave of exhaustion matched the throb where we’d hit our heads. I rubbed my forehead. “I need a Diet Coke,” I mumbled.

Nick cocked his head to the side and scrunched his nose. “Diet Coke? That stuff’ll kill you.”

I groaned. “I wasn’t looking for a lecture.”

His cheeks went red like they had when he saw me on the plane. “I didn’t mean—I could find a vending machine? Least I could do. After the head bump—”

Kitty interrupted us. “Oh, good, Nick, you got Annie’s bag? Let’s go. There’s a Diet Coke in the car for you.” She was already halfway to the exit, jangling some car keys in her hand.

No rest for the wicked. And for once in my life, I had come to terms with my own wickedness. What kind of woman was I? I’d been in an affair with a married man. How could I live with myself? How could I show my face at a wedding without a scarlet A on my chest?

At our car, Guy kissed Kitty, gazing down into her eyes and leaning her against the rental van. “Don’t drive crazy, ma puce . I wanna see you safe at the altar this weekend.”

His still calling her that cute little nickname that he had in high school sent a pang of nostalgia and longing through me. I had to look away to keep from crying. I wanted what they had so bad. And I thought I was going to get it, but I was just kidding myself. After a life of proving my right to be here and striving for first place, I was second-best when it came to love.

“See if you can make Mikey puke,” Kitty laughed. “Let’s see how these Midwesterners handle the old country roads.”