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My bridesmaid dress hung in the closet, waiting for morning. I trailed a finger down the delicate silk material. Felicia had excellent taste. The dress was floor length, ice blue, and formfitting, with bare shoulders except for the chiffon that came up from the waist to drape over one shoulder.

Turning from the dress, I threw a few remaining books into a half-empty box, but finally accepted that sleep wouldn’t be visiting me anytime soon.

I stepped quietly into the living room, not wanting to disturb Felicia, only to find her sitting on the couch, drinking a cup of tea.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “Did I wake you?”

“No.” I walked over to the couch and sat beside her. “I couldn’t sleep either. Nervous?”

She tucked her knees under her chin, wrapping her arms around her legs. “Not really nervous, I don’t think. Just excited. Maybe a little worried?”

“Worried about marrying Jackson?” I asked, concerned. This was normal, right? Didn’t every bride go through this?

“No, not Jackson,” she said, and I felt a little better. “Well, not Jackson, the man. More worried about marrying Jackson, quarterback for the New York Giants. The paparazzi and all. Being in the spotlight.”

I vaguely remembered her frustration when the engagement was announced. Photographers had followed her for a few days, showed up outside her classroom, even called her apartment a few times. The excitement had died down rather quickly and, truth be told, I hadn’t been that much of a help to her, having recently left Nathaniel and living in the fog of depression I’d been in.

“It won’t be too bad, I don’t think,” I said. “He’s a famous athlete, sure, but he’s not an actor or anything.”

“You try setting up security for your wedding and then tell me it’s not that bad,” she said. “You plan your honeymoon trying to decide where you can be alone most of the time. And you have your wedding gown flashed on television for the world to see.”

“Okay. Okay,” I said, trying to calm her down, not wanting to see her in full-out bridal rage. “I see your point. The wedding gown thing was tacky.”

“Hmph. I’ll say.”

“But listen,” I said. “Jackson loves you. I’ve seen it. You don’t have anything to worry about. If the paparazzi show up, you and Jackson will deal with it together. Plus, you’ll have the whole Clark clan to back you up. And you know you’ll always have me.”

She smiled at that. “Thanks, Abby.”

I shrugged. “No biggie. And since you and Jackson will be off touring Europe, I’m sure the wedding hype will have moved on when you do come back to the States. Some other celebrity news will have taken your place.”

Jackson had planned a two-week honeymoon for them in Europe. They would visit the UK, France, Italy, and Switzerland. While I’d always wanted to visit Europe, it didn’t sound like my idea of the perfect honeymoon. When I got married, I wanted to spend my honeymoon alone, with Nathaniel, not country-hopping.

A shiver ran down my spine.

Honeymoon alone, with Nathaniel.

Gah.

“You’re right,” Felicia said, oblivious to the inner workings of my brain. “It’s just strange, you know?”

“Yeah, strange.” And Felicia dealing with the paparazzi wasn’t the only thing.

“Everything’s strange tonight, isn’t it?” she asked. “You and me. We’ve been neighbors forever, and after tomorrow, everything changes. It’s a bit sad.”

“You’ll still have me. I’m not going anywhere.”

“You’re moving in with Nathaniel. Talk about strange.”

I wanted to ask what was so strange about it, but then decided not to. I really didn’t want to discuss my weekends with Nathaniel. While Felicia seemed more supportive, I wasn’t sure she could listen at this point and not be judgmental.

“I mean, sure, Jackson’s a famous football player, but Nathaniel constantly makes top-twenty lists for wealthiest Americans,” she continued. “How does that feel?”

I knew what she was doing—trying to make herself feel better by shifting the focus to someone else. By asking how I handled something she needed to handle as well. I decided to tell her the truth.

“It doesn’t feel like anything,” I said. “When I’m with Nathaniel, I’m not thinking about his wealth or what he’s worth. It’s just him. Nathaniel.”

“But still,” she pushed. “How’s it going to work with you living with him? Will you pay him rent? Pay part of his mortgage?”

She’d just called him one of America’s wealthiest citizens and she thought he had a mortgage?

“He doesn’t have a mortgage,” I said. “He owns his house outright. And no, I’m not paying him rent.”

“But expenses?”

“Sure, I’ll help with expenses.” But it was all a guess for me. Nathaniel and I had talked a little about how expenses would work once I moved in, but nothing very detailed. We’d just work it all out once I moved in. “How about you and Jackson? Are you worried about money?”

“No,” she said. “Jackson’s already made plans to set up a joint account for us. It’ll just be odd, having all that money. Come on, Abby. Admit it. You have to have thought about the material benefits of living with Nathaniel.”

“Maybe once or twice.”

“Once or twice. Sure.”

“I know he has a housekeeper,” I said. “I guess that will be weird—having someone clean everything for me. But really, I don’t think about it. I focus more on Nathaniel.”

“I’ll be so happy when Jackson retires and we can be a bit more normal.”

She was all over the place. Again, maybe this was common for brides. I just decided to go where she led me. “He’s playing one more season?” I asked.

“Yes,” she confirmed. “This is his last year. He’ll probably take some time off and then look into getting a coaching position.”

I placed my hand on her knee. “Do this for me, Felicia—enjoy this year. It’s going to be so unlike anything you’ve ever done or experienced.” I smiled. “You’re going to be fine. Everyone will love you. Jackson most of all.”

Her eyes teared up, and she pulled me into a hug. “Thank you.”

Our last night as neighbors.

The thought resounded over and over in my head. It seemed so surreal. How was it possible that our lives would be changing so much in such a short amount of time?

I pulled back and smoothed her hair down. “Now, you really need to get some sleep. We can’t have tired eyes for pictures tomorrow.”

I meant it to be funny, wanting to lighten the mood a bit, but Felicia didn’t smile. Her expression was serious as she looked in my eyes.

“I told you I didn’t want to know the details of how you and Nathaniel work,” she said. “And I still don’t. You’re so happy lately.” She took a deep breath. “But I still need to know . . .”

“Need to know?” I questioned, a hint of dread working its way into my voice.

“That day you left him, you said he finally kissed you.” She got that much out and then stopped, biting her lip as if afraid to finish.

“Yes?” I asked, still not entirely comfortable with where this was going, but sensing it was important to her.

“Does he now?” she asked, nearly pleading. “Does he kiss you on the weekdays and on the weekends? It’s stupid, I know, and I’m not sure why it matters, but if he does, I’ll feel so much better. Does he?”