This wasn’t how twenty-nine was supposed to feel.
Verona Scott had made a
solemn pact on her birthday that the last year of her twenties was going to be
one of her best. All the pieces had seemed to be in place. She’d been in the
process of writing what she was sure would be another best-selling book—the one
that would make up for the lackluster sales and reviews of her most recent
titles. And she’d felt certain this would be the year that Alex proposed and
she’d start planning her wedding. She’d written down all her hopes and goals,
had the timing arranged to a tee.
But, apparently, the
universe had missed the memo. Barely six months into her thirtieth year, the second
part of the dreamscape she’d spun had unraveled.
Verona buried the box of bridal inspiration, which she’d accidentally stumbled upon when hunting for her favorite sweater, deep inside the bottom drawer of her desk, sealing it away out of sight. She’d been so ready to begin that next chapter with Alex. To settle down and start a family… But what she’d hoped were wedding bells chiming in the not-too-distant future had turned out to be an alarm siren tripped by her boyfriend in his rush out the door.
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