Page 37 of The Perfect Heart

“So what’s up? Your text was a little cryptic.”

I settled beside Emily on the couch, drawing one leg up so I could face her. “So”—the words caught on my tongue because I still couldn’t quite believe I was saying them, that it had actually happened—“Nash asked me on a date.”

Emily’s eyes widened, her perfectly sculpted brows rising close to her hairline. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Nash asked me out,” I repeated because, obviously, neither of us could believe it.

My friend leaned closer, pushing her hair back behind her ear. “Like, as a friend, out to dinner? Or an actual—”

“An actual date. He used the word date.”

Emily sat back, shaking her head. “Shit. Wow.”

“I know.”

I completely agreed with the sentiment.

“And I don’t have anything nice to wear after leaving LA, so I hoped to borrow something of yours.”

“Okay, wow.” Emily shook her head sharply like she was trying to jerk herself out of a stupor. “Of course. No problem. This is huge, obviously, so you need something nice to wear.”

It was huge, wasn’t it? I almost pinched myself just to make sure it was real.

Emily stood with purpose and waved me on. “All right, girl, let’s go.”

I was a bit taller than Emily, and she was slightly wider at the hips, but we were close enough I figured something had to fit. And as much as I loved trawling through the racks at the thrift store, I wanted to feel like a million dollars on my first date with Nash—more than I had ever wanted to feel like a million dollars with Jack. And I knew I wouldn’t find anything like that at the thrift store here.

With great relief, I stood in front of her walk-in closet, looking at the dresses lined in neat rows, and felt my excitement build. It wasn’t until that moment that I realized how much I missed my closet in LA and the wardrobe I had built over five years.

Far more than I missed my husband, that was for sure. That was my only regret, that I hadn’t been able to take the clothes with me.

“This is fantastic,” I breathed.

“Thanks.” Emily nudged me over with her hip and began pulling down dresses until she had an armful, then returned to dump them onto her bed.

She crossed her arms over her chest and smirked. “Go crazy.”

I did, trying on dress after dress, feeling slightly normal for once after nearly a month of living in a cold apartment and wearing the cheapest thrift store finds.

“This is heaven,” I sighed as the fifth dress slipped down over my curves, the fabric soft against my skin in a way the worn old fabric I’d been wearing couldn’t.

“I know, right?” Emily smirked, leaning back propped up on her hands, ankles crossed.

I turned around, looking at myself from the back in the mirror, wondering if I had enough money to afford a haircut and a color touch-up.

“So did you guys have a thing for each other in high school? I don’t remember you being anything other than friends.”

“We weren’t at all. We were firmly friends.”

I unzipped the dress, and it slithered to the floor, where I stepped out of it and swapped it out for another, this one in blue that I wasn’t sure about. I put the neck over my head instead, the hanger hanging down my back. I chewed at my bottom lip as I stared at my reflection in the mirror, not even seeing the dress draped over my body as I considered Emily’s question that mirrored mine so well, the ends of the hanger peeking out from my hair.

“At least, I don’t think so. I didn’t have any feelings for Nash, and I’m almost positive he didn’t either. But maybe he just never told me. I don’t know. This whole thing is so confusing.”

Pulling the dress over my head and untangling the hanger from my hair, I collapsed against the bed before flopping back to stare at the ceiling.

Emily appeared in my peripheral vision, leaning over to peer at me. “You okay?”

“I have no idea what I am.”