When she’d driven a block from London’s house, Mari couldn’t see through her curtain of tears and she was forced to pull over. She sobbed until she was empty, and then she sobbed some more. Tears and snot flowed together down her face, but she didn’t care. Her life was over, everything that mattered to her had been ripped away. And it was her own fault. She’d known this could happen but she’d let her heart rule her head. And now she was paying the price. She was alone. Completely and utterly alone.

When she finally got her emotions under control, she struggled to think of where she could go. Her immediate thought was to go to her parents’ house, but her embarrassment over what she’d done, how foolish she’d been, kept her from wanting to face them. Even though she knew they would love her no matter what, the thought of telling them that she’d fallen in love with Hank—fallen under his spell, really—and that he’d then turned his back on her, had actually encouraged London to fire her… It was too much. She couldn’t do it. The wounds were too fresh. The shame too deep.

The thought of Hank taking London’s side against her brought on a fresh bout of tears, and it took another ten minutes before she’d calmed enough to think clearly.

With no idea where she should go, she drew in a ragged breath, put her car into gear, then pulled onto the road. Eventually she found herself heading north on I-5, and as she drove, her mind filled with memories of the last two weeks, of the happiness she’d felt the entire time she’d been at Hank’s. Until that morning.

Had it only been that morning that Hank had held her in his arms while she’d cried and told her to trust him, that everything would be okay?

She had trusted him, but he’d turned on her, sided with London. Who could blame him? He had a history with London, had a child with her. Of course he had to side with her. Who was Mari to him but a tiny diversion from football—his true passion.

The memory him saying she was a mistake hurt so deeply that her stomach cramped up and she nearly pulled off the Interstate.

No. She couldn’t let him affect her that way. Despite feeling like her life had ended, she knew that wasn’t true, that in reality her whole life stretched out in front of her.

Two hours later, after she’d stopped to fill her car with gas, she realized what she wanted to do and where she wanted to go—where she was already headed.

London had encouraged her to get out of town, and she agreed. She needed to make a fresh start, but she wanted to go to the one place where she’d felt a measure of happiness. Sacramento. Even if she never saw Hank again, Sacramento was as good a place as any to start over.

With a firm destination in mind, Mari felt a distinct sense of relief, of peace, and she knew it was the right thing to do, and by early evening, she entered Sacramento’s city limits.

She and Harper had only taken a few forays away from Hank’s house, but even so, she recognized a few landmarks. Sacramento was the capitol of California, and though Los Angeles had eight times as many people, it was still a sizable city.

Now that Mari had decided to make Sacramento her home, she felt a smile tugging up the corners of her mouth as she looked for a place to spend the night. Over the years that she’d been a live-in nanny she’d been extremely frugal and she’d put aside most of her earnings. Now that she was unemployed, those funds would be her lifeline.

As she checked in to a motel that looked clean and safe, yet was relatively inexpensive, she considered her options. Certain she could find a job as a nanny, she wondered if that was what she wanted to do. Her dream was to be an artist. Maybe it was time to get out of the nanny business. Maybe it was time to follow her dream, to become the artist she’d always wanted to be.

Thinking of painting inevitably took her mind to her art studio at Hank’s house, which led her to memories of being with Hank. And those memories were like a massive boulder falling on her chest. Lying on the bed in her motel room, she had to work to draw air into her lungs. It was like she was drowning in sorrow. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t…

Gasping for air, her eyes wide, her heart pounding like a jackhammer, she realized she was having a panic attack.

Breathe, Mari. Just breathe.

Turning her head to stare out the window, she focused on the leaves of a nearby tree. Leaves turning yellow and red. Fall leaves. Gently fluttering in the September breeze. Peaceful, lovely leaves.

After several minutes the panic attack passed, and for the next few minutes she focused on her calm, even breathing.

Tomorrow would be better, she promised herself. Tomorrow would be awesome.