I must have. But how funny that I dreamed I married Holden McKenzie.
Dropping back against the pillows, I reach for my phone. And that’s when I see it.
Gramma’s diamond ring.
On my finger.
As if the stone has magical powers of clarity, the fog rolls away in one swift motion. Yesterday comes barreling back to me.
A PayDay in the car. A judge standing in front of an archway of beautiful flowers. Holden saying, “I do.”
To me.
I force a swallow.
Holy shit. I did it. I went through with it.
My chest rises and falls as I reconcile the next wave of memories.
The warmth of his breath against my neck.
The taste of his kiss.
Him sleeping on the floor . . .
I rip off the blankets and crawl down the center of my bed. I don’t breathe until I grab the footboard and peer over the top like a child looking over a banister to see if Santa has arrived.
And see nothing.
A mixture of confusion and relief floods my veins as I leap off the bed. The wooden floor is cool against my feet. My heart races as I swipe my robe off the bedpost, thankful I’m at least dressed in a decently modest set of pajamas, and locate my worn slippers. The toe of my right foot snags on the rug as I race toward the door.
I let out a squeal as I fly forward and catch myself against the chair. Whiffs of Holden’s cologne filter through the air as his bag rattles on top of the cushion, and I come face-to-face with a piece of paper propped against the black leather.
My eyes roam over his handwriting. It stays within the lines of the white notebook paper but slants terribly to the right. Something about that makes me smile.
Sophie,
Didn’t want to wake you but felt like I should say good morning. I hope you feel all right. I’m heading to work. Not sure what the protocol is for something like this. Should be interesting. Call if you need me.
Holden
And I’m locking the door on my way out.
I begin to reach for the letter but stop short. The last line tickles something in my chest, and I laugh out loud.
“Of course you did,” I say.
A dose of warmth spreads across my body.
I tug the tie around my waist a little harder as I make my way through the house to the front door. The lock is engaged. I flip it free before stepping onto the porch.
Pieces of decorations litter the lawn. Tire tracks mar the grass near the road where cars pulled off to join the party last night. If I try hard enough, I can still hear the clapping and celebration.
It’s . . . surreal.
Pulling the robe tighter against the cool morning air, I head across the road to Liv’s. The house is quiet as I step inside.
“Liv?” I ask, closing the door behind me.
“In the kitchen.”
I walk around the vacuum still in the middle of the living room and find her at the kitchen table. She looks up from the newspaper with a cheesy grin on her face.
“How’s the bride this morning?” she asks, wiggling her eyebrows.
“Will you stop it?”
The paper rattles as she sets it on the table. “No, I won’t stop it. I saw that kiss. And I heard a little somethin’-somethin’ while we were cleaning up.”
My face feels like I’ve been walking in the desert. I sit across from my sister. “What you heard was your own fault.”
“Am I supposed to feel bad about that? Because I don’t. I’m jealous, in fact.” She looks at the ceiling. “The way he kissed you—”
“Liv.”
She lowers her head and looks at me. I meet her gaze with my own no-nonsense glare. She’s unaffected. I, however, am not.
I, too, remember Holden’s kiss. Vividly. And how soft his lips were against mine. The heat of his breath as it mixed with mine. How his hand nestled at the small of my back.
If all that were real, I’d be one lucky girl.
But it’s not.
And I have to remember that little bit of unfortunate truth.
“Why are you still home?” I glance at the clock in the hope that we can change the subject for a while. “It’s . . . nine thirty. Crap. I should’ve been up hours ago.”
“That’s what happens when you’re doing the dirty all night.”
She giggles at my ill-fated attempt to glare at her again.
“I’m home,” she says, “because Henry is at company headquarters in Nashville this morning. I hope this means I’ll get transferred to the Rockery office. I also hope it doesn’t mean Henry gets transferred elsewhere without me, because I love working for him.”
“Good luck,” I offer.
“Thanks. Anyway, back to you and the good doctor . . .”
“He’s a vet.”
“Your point?”
I shrug. “Just . . . clarifying.”
She tucks her legs under her and gets comfortable. Liv getting situated is a solid indication that she’s in this conversation for the long haul, meaning she has questions and wants to prod.