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“Gosh darn it,” Anna, my best friend in the world, grumbles while fighting with the bundle of balloons she’s attempting to get through the screen door. As she mutters and curses under her breath, yanking at the ribbons she’s holding while trying to get the door to stay open without trapping some of the balloons outside, Kolter takes his arm from my shoulders and goes to help her. “Thank you.” She huffs, turning to face me, blowing a piece of blond hair out of her eyes. “You weren’t supposed to be here for at least thirty more minutes.”

“Sorry.” My throat gets tight when I see tears fill her eyes. “I didn’t know that I was getting a surprise party.”

“It’s a welcome-home casserole parade.”

“I don’t even know what that is.” I smile as she crashes into me.

“I know you hate this, but I’m so happy you’re home,” she whispers, rocking me from side to side.

“I don’t hate this.” It’s not a lie. I might be upset that I have to start over and that the future I had planned for myself went up in smoke. But I don’t hate that I will be close to my family and able to see my best friend every day, that our daily FaceTimes can now be in person. That I can meet my friends for coffee and have Sunday dinner at my parents’.

It’s sucked only getting to see everyone a couple of times a year when they were able to fly out to see me or when I’ve been able to come home for a visit, which was less often after I got engaged, because I needed to help pay for my wedding, and never after that because I couldn’t afford to travel. Heck, I could barely afford to eat anything other than ramen and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches most days.

And my last visit with Anna wasn’t great, since she came to Chicago when I was still in the trenches of my breakup. And I spent the entire time stalking the woman Johnathan cheated on me with on social media. Something that only made me feel worse than I already did, because Evelyn Grace was perfect in every way. Not only was she beautiful, but she did things like volunteer her time at animal shelters and with the Big Sisters program, which meant I couldn’t hate her as much as I wanted to. And at that point in time, I really wanted to hate her.

“But really, how did you get here so early?” Anna asks, dragging me from my rambling thoughts.

“I haven’t stopped to pee in six hours,” I admit, laughing while wiping the wet from my cheeks.

“Oh my god, go before you explode.” She takes the beer I forgot I’m still holding. “When you’re done, we’ll eat and have cake.” Still teary eyed, I give out hugs to the rest of the people in the room, then walk down the hall to the restroom.

Standing in front of the mirror and washing my hands a few minutes later, I stare at the dark bags under my eyes and shut off the water. As much as I would love nothing more than to hide in the restroom for a few more minutes, I know the people waiting outside the door came to see me, so I need to suck it up. Dragging in a breath, I open the door and walk down the hall, past the plethora of family photos that line the walls of the hallway, and step into the kitchen, smiling at my friend Tiffany when she looks over at me.

“This kind of feels like a funeral,” I mutter under my breath, scanning the room. Every single flat surface is covered in the casseroles that people brought over.

“It kinda does.” Tiffany laughs, handing me a plate before cutting into a pan of lasagna that honestly smells delicious.

“You okay?” Dad asks, and I see that he already has his own plate piled high.

“Yeah.” I add some pasta salad to my plate. “When we’re done eating, will you help me get my stuff from the car?”

“Didn’t Mom tell you that Mrs. Carberry turned in the key for her rental last week, so we’ve all been over there getting it ready for you to stay there?”

“Isn’t that place haunted?” Aunt Margery asks from the kitchen table before I can tell Dad that Mom never mentioned anything about me living in their rental.

“Of course it’s not haunted.” Mom sighs.

“I don’t know. Mrs. Carberry was pretty adamant that there was a ghost living in the attic,” Aunt Margery mutters.

“It’s not haunted,” Dad says, glowering at his sister.

“It’s a great place,” Mom says, coming to stand next to me. “And we figured that you’d want your own space.”

I do want my own space, but I feel guilty accepting a whole two-bedroom house from my parents when I know they use it as an income property, and right now I don’t have much income and won’t until I can sell a couple of houses.

“We paid it off a year ago, if you’re worried about us,” Mom tells me, reading my mind. “And Anna and I already got you a bed, and Mrs. Carberry left most of her furniture and stuff for you since she was moving in with her son and didn’t need it.”

“It’s actually really cute,” Anna tells me.

“It’s going to be great.” Mom kisses the side of my head, and there is something about the conviction in her voice that makes me feel better.

Sure, starting over at almost thirty isn’t something I thought I would have to do, but I know deep down that this is what I need right now, and . . . well, I can figure out the future later, after I get my feet back under me.

Chapter 2:

Professional

Genevieve