I don’t remember getting in my bed last night, or even getting home, but nevertheless, it’s where I wake up. My head is pounding, and my mouth feels like it’s been stuffed with a million cotton balls. I try to sit up, only to be overcome with an aching wave of dizziness.

Retreating to the safety of my fluffy covers and pillow, I snuggle down and will away the feelings of sickness. And it works until the events that led me to this predicament start to trickle in. Drake with Kelly. The stranger at the bar. Hitting on Brent. Drake telling me to go home. Kelly at his house. And then I’m dashing from the bed to the bathroom, where I hit my knees and pray at the altar of regret.

“Never drinkin’ again,” I mumble to the empty room, my head resting on top of my hands on top of the toilet seat.

“Sure, sure,” comes Myla Rose’s voice from behind me, causing me to jump and smack my head on the cabinet next to me.

“Holy bologna! Where’d you come from?”

She grabs a washcloth from my linen closet and dampens it at the sink before placing it against my forehead. “Magnolia let me in.”

Peeling the cloth back, I give her a blank stare. She sighs and shakes her head at me. “Yes, Az, Magnolia. You had quite the night last night, and thankfully, she was able to come over here and sit with you. How much of what happened do you remember?”

“Now? Pretty much all of it. Ugh.” I drop my head back down onto my hands and let the tears fall. Myla Rose crouches down and rubs my back for a few minutes before she straightens back up and starts the shower.

“Let it all out, sister-girl, then get showered and meet us downstairs. You didn’t let me sit around and sulk, and I’m not about to let you.”

“Us?”

“Yes, ma’am. Mags and Seraphine are currently laid out on your couch watching some Netflix Original about two brothers and their ranch. Now, dry up them tears and get ready. We have plans.”

I go through the motions of getting ready—tossing my hair into a messy bun and applying a light dusting of makeup with the grace of muscle memory. Thankfully, Myles laid out clothes for me, because God knows, I don’t have the energy to care what I look like. I’d probably end up throwing something together that screamed heartbreak and remorse.

As ready as I’ll ever be, I trudge down the steps and into my living room, where Myla Rose, Seraphine, and Magnolia are all waiting for me. “Oh, good, you’re ready!” Myla exclaims when she notices me. “I’ve only got a babysitter for so long, so let’s go!”

“Where’re we going?” I ask, slightly nervous, because the chance of running into Drake in a town the size of Dogwood is pretty darn high.

“Don’t worry, AzzyJo. Drake’s with the guys.” Swear to God, Myla Rose has telepathy, because that girl can read my mind.

We all gather up our purses and sweaters and pile into Myla Rose’s beast of a Land Cruiser and head off to wherever she’s taking us. “Hey, Myles, where’d you say we were going?”

“I didn’t.” I catch her eye in the rearview mirror, and she just smirks. I hate surprises, and she freaking knows it. Lovely.

Ten minutes later, we’re pulling into the small parking lot for our “downtown” area—and I use that term loosely, because “downtown” is about two blocks in the middle of town, sprinkled with a handful of boutiques, a couple of restaurants, Dream Beans—our favorite coffee shop—and Southern Roots, our salon.

“So, now ya wanna tell me what we’re doing?” I ask as we collectively make our way down Main Street.

“I figured we could do a little retail therapy and grab lunch. Nothing crazy, just some girl time.”

“That sounds perfect, Myles,” I tell her, linking my arm through hers. We make our way into one of my favorite boutiques, and I’m immediately drawn to the most stunning cardinal red maxi. It has a deep vee and long, belled sleeves with a cinched waist. Seraphine notices me admiring it and tells me I have to try it on.

“I want to, but I–I can’t.”

“Sister-girl,” Myla Rose says, walking over, “red is your color.” Seraphine nods vigorously.

“I know, but now it just reminds me of . . . him. The last two times things went wrong for us, I was wearing a red dress.” I duck my head, hating how pathetic I sound. “Stupid, I know.”

Myla Rose wraps her arms around me and squeezes tight while Seraphine tells me, “You can’t stay sad forever.”

“I know, I know. But this is still so fresh.”

Magnolia, who has been watching us, speaks up. “I’ve found that the best way to overcome things is to face them head-on. The longer you let fear and regret control you, the harder it is to break free.”

Her words spark something in me, because dammit, she’s right. I grab my size and march directly to the register. This dress is meant for me, and I don’t plan on wearing it until Drake is mine once again. Because one way or another, I’m going to make him see that we’re meant to be together. No matter how long it takes.

After I check out and the clerk wraps and packages my purchase, we’re out the door and on our way to grab a bite to eat. We pause outside Buster’s for Myla Rose to check her phone, and across the street, I notice a group of guys jogging, and one of them has what has to be the cutest pug in existence trotting dutifully beside him at his feet.

I nod toward the pup, smiling, and Seraphine and Magnolia spot him instantly, both cooing over how damn cute he is. I swear, I can see his little pug underbite from clear across the street. The three of us stare after the little guy until he’s out of sight.

“The heck are y’all lookin’ at?” Myla Rose asks, stowing her cell in her purse.

“You totally just missed the cutest doggy ever. He was a little chunk of a pug.”

“Seriously, Myles, he was preshy!” I roll my eyes at Seraphine and her newfound tendency to shorten words.

“I’ve been tryin’ to talk Cash into a dog for Brody. Every boy needs a dog.”

“Every boy grows up to be a dog.” I cough into my fist.

“Your jaded is showing,” Myla Rose fires back as she smacks me upside my head.

“Yeah, yeah. We can’t all have the fairy tale you do.”

“You can. All y’all can and will. Swear it. Your man is out there, and when you meet him—or, in your case, Azalea, when y’all pull your heads out your asses—you’ll know, and it will be every bit as magical as what I have with Cash.” Seraphine and I shoot her a dubious look, and poor Mags looks downright terrified. “Trust me, ladies. It’s not always easy, and you’ll both make plenty of mistakes and you’ll hit lots of bumps, but if you both put in the time and effort, you’ll make it, and it’s so-so-so worth it.”

“Enough talk about boys and love,” Seraphine declares. “Let’s eat!”

Smiling, I shake my head at her, bumping her hip with mine. “Let’s!” I agree, and we pick up our pace toward the café down the street.