Begin as you mean to go on.
The words came to mind before Megan could stop them. Before she could block memories of New Year’s Eves and a future that was over before it had begun.
The only thing worse than a hangover from too much drinking was a hangover from a life-changing fight. Her head pounded. Her heart was shattered.
She must’ve fallen asleep in the midst of her tears, and if she didn’t get a hold of herself, she knew they’d start again.
This had been the second night in a row she’d gone to bed without Tom. It occurred to Megan that every night from now on, she’d be going to bed without him.
The first time Megan and Tom had slept together was a couple of weeks after their first kiss. He’d invited her to one of his family’s properties. He’d called it a beach house, but it felt like a palace. That was when she’d first realized Tom came from money, a bit of trivia that seemed so irrelevant. What drew her to Tom was his kindness, the way he felt rooted. He was intellectually sharp but didn’t lord it over anyone. He had a great sense of humor but never tried to grab the spotlight. He seemed to see everything she liked about herself and brush away everything she hated. She felt like the enhanced version of Megan when she was with him.
That first night at the beach house, they’d cooked dinner; he learned just how hopeless she was in the kitchen and put her in charge of pouring the wine and objectifying him. For dessert, they dipped cream puffs in melted Belgian chocolate. A few bites in and they could no longer keep their hands off each other.
The first time with Tom had been sensual but also peppered with soft laughter and a bit of fumbling. They were both eighteen, neither of them terribly experienced; she’d been his first, and he’d been her first-ish.
To her, it was perfect. After he ensured she climaxed, they stayed wrapped up in each other and she thought, This is someone I can tell all my secrets to.
But then she’d kept a secret. And now, because of it, this morning she’d have to tell everyone the wedding was off—her family, the guests, the wedding planner. Humiliation and devastation roiled through her.
Above all else, this was the first day in twelve years she’d have to face without knowing Tom was hers. He’d ripped himself from her so suddenly, it felt like a violent act.
She couldn’t do it. Couldn’t face everything. She was just pulling the pillow over her head when she heard that faint beep of the key card.
Tom.
She sat bolt upright in bed, surprised to note that at some point last night, she’d put on her pajamas, a pair of striped shorts and a tank top.
Instead of Tom, Donna Givens burst into the room. If Tom had told her the news, she seemed to be taking it rather well.
“I’ve heard Amazon can deliver same day, but every dress I’ve looked at says it ships in one to two weeks.” Donna placed one hand on the small of her back and pressed the other against her chest.
Megan froze. “Didn’t we…”
Donna’s demeanor indicated she hadn’t heard about Megan and Tom’s fight the night before. If she had, she’d be throwing things by now, accusing Megan of ruining both her own and Donna’s futures.
“Didn’t we what?” Donna snapped. “Are you listening? I need a new dress.”
It took Megan a minute to connect the dots. She was talking about a new dress for today. That was it. Because of course her mother suddenly wanted to get another new dress for the wedding. Odd that she’d brought up Amazon again, though.
Except…
Megan looked back down at her pajamas. There was no way she’d put them on last night. She rubbed at her eyelashes. No mascara. There was also no way she’d washed her face before bed. Maybe she’d cried the mascara off?
She gave her mother the once-over. She was in the same dramatic pose as yesterday, wearing the same blue blouse with the same scarf around her neck. And there was definitely no way she’d repeat an outfit in front of Carol. None of this made any sense. And if it didn’t make any sense…
“It was a dream,” Megan mumbled, her heart speeding up. That was the only logical explanation. She tried to remember the previous night…not the rehearsal dinner and awful fight, but the actual night before, when she’d arrived at the island and unpacked her suitcase and happily gone to bed. It felt far away.
She shook off the feeling, because if the rehearsal dinner and the whole day leading up to it had been a dream, that meant there’d been no fight and there’d be no surprise move to Missouri.
Most important, that meant the wedding was still on.
A grin broke out across her face. Megan felt she could cry from relief. Tom still loved her. They would still have their life together. Imperfect though it was, they’d gotten through a dozen years together. That was longer than almost all of her mother’s relationships combined.
She knew Tom’s heart perhaps better than she knew her own. He would always try to do the right thing, always cherish her and try to make her laugh when she got bogged down. Their relationship had its complications, but there was so much good in it. Looking back on what she and Tom had built together, starting when they were only kids, filled Megan with pride.
Sure, there had been mistakes…
Swatting away guilty, insoluble thoughts of Leo and the dream version of her that he had asked to run away with him, Megan embraced the chance to make her rehearsal-dinner day the one she’d actually wanted. Her subconscious had kindly created a worst-case scenario, preparing her better than all her spreadsheets and to-do lists combined. She knew now that if Tom learned about Leo, it wouldn’t alleviate her guilt. It would soil everything, steal her future with him. She wouldn’t let that happen.
“What was a dream?” Donna asked.
“Nothing. Don’t worry about it.” Megan got out of bed, shoved her cold toes into the hotel slippers, went into the bathroom, and closed the door behind her.
While she got ready, Donna yelled at her through the door in a vaguely British accent, “I see Tom hasn’t even arrived yet from his oh so crucial client dinner?”
“You’re being English again,” Megan said through a mouthful of toothbrush.
“I need something to wear to the rehearsal dinner tonight,” Donna told her, then paused. “You can see Gran and Granddad’s boat from here.”
“I know.” Her subconscious had done an impeccable job.
“Cheer me up, Moopy,” Donna prodded, tapping lightly on the bathroom door.
Megan swung it open, digging deep for the patience required to parent her own mother. “If you don’t feel comfortable with your dress, why don’t we go to Friday Harbor and see if we can find something you like better?”
“That’s a splendid idea.” Donna kissed Megan’s forehead. “I’m going to dash off and invite your sister to go with us.”
In her dream, she’d put on the heart pendant and met Tom at the ferry dock. But she didn’t want to do things the same way; it seemed like bad luck.
If she were being truly honest, the dream made her a bit afraid to see Tom. The fight they’d had might not have been real, but it still contained truths she didn’t want to face. Not right now. Not during what should be one of the best weekends of her life.
Instead, she sent Tom a text telling him she’d leave the rental-car keys in their hotel room and that she couldn’t wait to see him later.
Since she’d dug it out specifically for this weekend, she still put on the necklace, then set out to grab breakfast at the market before meeting her mom and sister. At least this time she had no reason to seek out Carol.
It was a beautiful morning, warm with a hint of crispness. Megan inhaled the sea air as she took in the sights of the morning: the children in pajamas holding hands with their grown-ups walking across the docks to the showers. Oddly enough, the coffee vendor looked familiar, as did the woman who sold her the scone. Or perhaps her dream was getting fuzzier the more awake she felt.
She took her time, weaving through the booths, sipping slowly as she watched boaters wake and cook breakfast on their stern grills. This was her happy place. For the hundredth time, she was filled with a sweet serenity that, despite all the wedding details the Prescotts pushed for—and offered to pay for—they’d at least agreed to hold everything in the place closest to her heart.
As much as she wanted to spend the morning cloaked in this quiet comfort, she knew it was time to head up to the hotel lobby.
“Megan, darling, I just got word that the wedding rehearsal isn’t going to be held this afternoon. When do you intend to have it? After dinner? That sounds terribly inconvenient.”
The voice was coming from behind her. Megan turned to see Carol’s pinched face. Again. No, not again, she told herself. That was a dream.
“Good morning, Carol!” Megan smiled tightly, her heart pounding. “Yes, there was a scheduling conflict with the hotel, but the wedding planner said we could skip the rehearsal—he’ll make sure we’re all in the right places at the right time.”
“Mmm. Anyway, what are you doing here? I’m sure you have a thousand details you should be checking on.”
“I was just enjoying a bit of quiet time before diving into all those details.” Megan tamped down her effusiveness. “This place is so gorgeous.”
“It is lovely,” Carol agreed. “Shame it takes two planes and a ferry to get here.”
A prickling crawled up the back of Megan’s neck as Carol’s gaze traveled down. “What’s on your feet, dear? Are those the hotel slippers?”
This was déjà vu, that was all. Wasn’t that what déjà vu really was? Something you’d experienced in a dream that coincidentally occurred in real life? “No, these are just some sandals I brought.” Her voice sounded hollow to her own ears.
“Mmm.” Carol wrinkled her nose as though Megan had broken wind, just as she had in the dream. “Anyway, I won’t keep you. I just wanted to make sure you’d rearranged the seating at tonight’s dinner so my tennis friends could sit a bit closer to John and me.”
“Yes. I took care of it.” Megan’s heart beat erratically. This was wedding jitters, that was all. Though the explanation didn’t quite make sense, she tried to convince herself it did.
“Good girl.” Carol air-kissed Megan on each cheek as she said goodbye.