It wasn’t the first time anyone had been stood up at the altar, but it would be the only time Natalie Harper was.
She was perfectly capable of being happy alone, and she would be.
Inhaling the briny sea air, she stared hard into the darkening sunset along the horizon, willing herself not to give in to the flood of humiliation that kept pressing in on her. Plenty of women had walked this same path before her. Thousands of dollars and months of planning wasted on a romantic waterside ceremony and festive reception—and no groom in attendance. But she was probably one of only a renegade few who dared to flee the aftermath and embark on a solo honeymoon. It felt just a little bit selfish now that she was lying on a pristine beach, the sky painted vibrant colors as the sun set along the Riviera Maya.
Night was falling quickly, and up and down the beach, most people had already deserted their loungers and cabanas and headed back to their hotels. Natalie knew she should, too. She twisted around to scan her surroundings, to assure herself she was truly alone. The nearby loungers sat empty, dilapidated sand castles the only sign that anyone had been there at all. The scene should have been peaceful, but the darkness beyond made her uneasy. Staring hard into the shadows, Natalie saw no signs of movement, nothing to account for the goose bumps rising on her arms.
Turning back to the fading sun, she reasoned with herself that her uneasiness was a product of fear, not proof of a lurker in the shadows. She’d fought that anxiety for close to twenty years now, and she knew it well. She forced herself to relax again and try to enjoy the solace, even if she didn’t particularly enjoy solitude or beach vacations.
Her fiancé had chosen the location, and Natalie had gone along with the plan. If she’d had her way, they would have rented a cabin somewhere along the Shenandoah River, hiked quiet wooded paths and just enjoyed being together.
She didn’t often get her way, though, and reserved her battles for the issues that truly mattered—right versus wrong, life versus death, milk chocolate versus dark.
In the end, a resort in Mexico versus a cabin in Virginia wasn’t an argument worth having, so she’d let it go.
And then... Kyle Paxton had let her go.
She stopped her thoughts in their tracks. She had seven more days to process all that had happened and decide how to move on. Tonight, she didn’t want to think.
She didn’t want to think about her string of failed relationships or Kyle’s poorly timed cold feet. She didn’t want to think about facing her family’s well-meaning sympathy, returning the mountain of wedding gifts waiting for her at home or unpacking her lonely boxed-up apartment. Taking a sip of her now-lukewarm strawberry lemonade, her gaze caught on the gaudy engagement ring on her finger.
She didn’t want to think about the ugly ring, either—a knock-off of the $1.4 million original worn by her friend and rising actress, Julianna Montgomery, last year at the Golden Globes. Julianna hadn’t won best actress, but her red carpet look had captured the world’s attention—from her body-skimming midnight blue gown to her wildly expensive jewelry, including the ring. Now Natalie stared down at the replica, its one-carat marquise diamond flanked by an army of teardrop sapphires jutting around the center like the sun’s rays, and wondered why she hadn’t handed it straight back to her fiancé. She’d hated it, but hadn’t had the heart to tell him, or the willingness to think about what his choice of rings meant.
Natalie liked quiet, elegant things, timeless styles, understated beauty. The pretentious ring only symbolized how little her fiancé truly knew her...and how much time and energy Natalie had poured into a relationship with someone who didn’t care enough about her to learn her tastes.
She glared down at the ring, the setting sun glowing in the depth of its stones. Maybe the first step to moving forward with new dreams was letting go of the old ones—the turnkey house in the heart of Baltimore, the pretty yard and the porch with flower baskets hanging from its eaves. The kids, the dog, the minivan. Were those even her own dreams in the first place? They had all been wrapped up in the copycat ring and Kyle’s empty promises, both of which had fallen far short of her expectations.
Twisting the too-tight band, she struggled to shimmy it over her knuckle. It had been a snug fit from the start, but the beach heat had caused her fingers to swell slightly. She’d considered dropping the ring off to be resized at her friend’s jewelry shop, but Hannah was already struggling to keep up with orders while her dad fought stage four glioblastoma. Natalie didn’t want to add to the burden, but she didn’t