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swallowed the lump in my throat and hurried to put as much distance between me and the pictures on my apartment walls. I was two steps down the stairs when Gen answered.
    “Is everything okay?”
    “Gennie,” I sobbed. “Can you come get me, please?”
    “Of course.” I could hear the strain in her voice. “We’re turning around right now.”
    Mitzy fidgeted in my arm, and I kissed the top of her head. “It’s okay, Mitzy.” Making my way down the stairs, I said, “I can’t stay here, not until I get his things out, the pictures out. I’ll do it tomorrow.” I didn’t have to explain to her I was too exhausted to tackle it tonight. When I returned, I would eradicate every piece of him from my life. Every tiny, little piece. Throw it all in the dumpster where it belongs.
    “Oh Lex, I’m so sorry.” Gen’s voice broke “We’ll be there soon.”
    While I waited for Gen and Matt, my cell phone rang. I stared at Jeremy’s phone number on the display. My hand shook with anger. “You bastard.”
    He’d agreed to throw me out after his family got what they wanted out of me. Stood by and watched his mom tear me to shreds on the news—he’d probably even known about it beforehand, as he’d known about the contract and hadn’t thought to warn me. “Screw you, Jeremy Buchanan.”
    I clicked to ignore his call and shoved my phone into the side pocket. My fingers brushed against the voucher again, and I pulled it out to read the elegant script. A light bulb went off in my head. Why not?
    Mitzy yipped. Her little body shivered in the crook of my arm.
    “Mommy’s going to be just fine, pretty girl.” Especially after a vacation in the Caribbean. I slipped the voucher back inside my purse and scratched behind her ear. “We don’t need a man—you and I will be just fine.”
    What had a man done for me lately, anyway? Nothing, that’s what.
    The fairytale is officially over.

Chapter Three

    The sun blazed, but the ocean breeze was a cool caress against my lotion-lathered skin. The oversized brim of the sunhat plopped on my head kept my face and shoulders protected. The Caribbean sky packed more punch than the sun tanning beds I was used to.
    Time meant nothing here. No worries, no responsibilities. Paradise.
    This was the very last place anyone would expect me to run. The people who mattered knew where I was. Even though I’d come for clarity and, to be honest, escape the media so focused on the city’s most beautiful wedding that hadn’t happened—I planned to take full advantage of this almost-honeymoon-vacation, especially considering it would take me two years to pay off the credit card charge.
    The fruity rum drink slid down my throat, cold and satisfying. I sighed in contentment, the sun’s warmth soaking into my core. I planned to stay liquored up for most of this trip—anything to numb the hurt and anger clattering around in my head. Maybe clarity would come at the bottom of a bottle of rum. I toasted the baby blue sky and sucked at the fat pink straw.
    Running from my problems was definitely the way to go.
    Toeing off my sandals, I cozied down into the plush lounge chair resting on the patio beside the pool. Peace— even if only temporary. My foot tapped the air in time with Pistol Annies’ Hell on Heels, playing through my earbuds.
    Between the sun and the liquor-numb, I wondered where Jeremy’s and my relationship had gone wrong. We’d been happy once upon a time—blindingly so. Jeremy had loved me. My phone rang once a day with his calls, but I didn’t answer. Forgiving him was out of the question. He had to understand as much, and yet still he called. Sometimes I listened to his voicemails before deleting them—none of which were an apology for what he’d done, only a plea for me to call him. There wasn’t any point in us speaking. He’d made his choice, and it hadn’t been us.
    What would I say, anyway? Hey, sorry your mom’s a raging bitch and you were too much of a wimp to