Chapter 1

At the wedding, my fiancé, Andrew Grant, walked down the aisle holding his first love's hand.

I, Claire Evans, turned around on the spot, canceled the wedding, and left.

Seven years later, he asked me if I finally understood I'd made a mistake.

My friend laughed coldly. "Claire's kid is seven years old. And you're still not over it?"

Andrew froze solid.

*****

I'd just gotten off the plane, dragging my heavy suitcase through the arrivals hall at Southmere International Airport.

And then, right at the exit, I ran into my ex's best friend, Eric Carter.

He stared at me, his face hard and cold.

"Seven years," he demanded. "When are you going to apologize to Andrew for running out on your wedding?"

*****

Andrew Grant. The man who almost became my husband. The man I almost walked down the aisle with.

Seven years ago, we'd spent months planning our wedding. It was a huge, flashy affair at a five-star hotel in Southmere.

Then came the bride's entrance. The noisy, cheerful hall went dead quiet.

Andrew stopped the wedding coordinator and walked quickly off the stage. He reached out and took the hand of a woman in a white dress. She smiled shyly.

He turned to the full room of guests and announced into the microphone, "This is Jenny Monroe, my first love. I promised her years ago that I would walk down the aisle with her someday.

"Once this wedding is over, I'll settle down. Consider this me keeping a promise and getting closure."

He looked at the coordinator and nodded firmly for him to continue.

The room exploded. Guests whispered and gossiped, all waiting to see how humiliated the bride would be.

I stood there for a moment, frozen. I didn't know what I felt.

Then I took a breath, grabbed my wedding dress hem, turned around, and walked out. I didn't look back once.

Andrew didn't come after me. And I didn't stop walking.

*****

Seven years passed. My son was seven years old now.

And here was my ex's best friend, still trying to convince me to apologize and get back together.

I couldn't help it. I laughed.

I pulled my son out from behind me and stood him in front of Eric.

I spoke softly, "Sweetie, say hi to the nice man. And tell him what your dad's name is."

Eric's eyes went wide. He stared at the little boy, his mouth hanging open in shock.

"Claire," he finally managed. "You were pregnant when you ran? And you had Andrew's son?"

He paused, then added, "Okay, that's a little shady. But at least you didn't totally waste Andrew waiting seven years."

I could see the misunderstanding all over his face. I quickly corrected him. "This kid is not Andrew's son. I got married seven years ago. He's my husband's son."

Eric froze. He looked like I'd just told him the sky was green.

His eyes bulged, and his voice shot up. "You got married behind Andrew's back? Do you know he's been going crazy trying to find you all these years?"

I replied calmly, "I married my husband seven years ago."

Right then, the rideshare I'd called pulled up to the curb. I tried to step around Eric.

But he grabbed my suitcase handle and refused to let go.

"Claire, explain yourself. What do you mean you got married seven years ago? How old is this kid? Is he Andrew's or not?" he shouted.

Eric's voice boomed through the hall like thunder. People turned to stare.

He didn't seem to notice. His eyes were huge as he looked my son up and down, nodding to himself.

"This kid is obviously Andrew's. Look at those big eyes, those double eyelids, and those little dimples," he said to himself.

Then his voice got even louder. "Claire, you've got some nerve. You actually had Andrew's kid and ran away."

He kept going. "No wonder you've been ghosting Andrew for seven years. You were waiting for the kid to get big enough to use as leverage to get the Grant family to accept you. You're pretty calculating."

I frowned. My son doesn't look anything like Andrew. His real father is a mixed-blood from Seaview. No way would my child's father look like Andrew.

Before I could explain, Eric cut me off again.

He frowned, his tone annoyed. "Andrew has never stopped looking for you."

He crossed his arms and leaned in. "He even put Jenny on hold because of you."

His eyes narrowed with warning. "But as his friend, I have to remind you, just because you had Andrew's kid doesn't mean you can cause trouble."

He shook his head like I was a disappointment. "Running away from the wedding over something so small? You humiliated the Grant family."

He sighed. "If Andrew hadn't begged his parents not to come after you, you'd have zero chance left."

He patted my shoulder, like he was looking out for me. "There's still time. Come with me to the mall. We'll buy some nice gifts, some good liquor."

He pointed in the direction of the exit, his face full of certainty. "Then we'll go to the Grant house, you apologize, and I'll put in a good word for you—"

"Stop." I'd had enough. I cut him off loudly.

My voice was hard. "Who said I was going back to Southmere?"

I looked him dead in the eye. "I'll tell you one more time. I'm married. The kid is my husband's."

I lifted my chin. "My husband's last name is Reed. Daniel Reed."

"Claire!" The word "husband" must have set him off.