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      Dad laughed. ‘It suits you. Although, being the only bridesmaid, I’d have thought Chloe could have given you some say in the colour.’

      ‘She gave a few other options – very unenthusiastically – and you know how it is. What Chloe wants…’

      ‘…Chloe gets,’ we chorused together, smiling at each other.

      ‘Which was one thing when you were kids and it was one of your Barbies or dresses,’ Dad continued. ‘But you do know you can say no, don’t you?’

      ‘I know, but it was obvious how much she wanted pink and it’s her big day, not mine.’ My voice caught as I said the words. No, definitely not mine. If only… I cleared my throat as I continued. ‘Her excitement far outweighed my objection so I was happy to go with the flow.’

      Dad looked down at me earnestly. ‘I love that you’ve always been so kind and thoughtful, Sammie, but I worry about it too. You’re not kids anymore. You don’t have to keep giving her what’s yours.’

      ‘I know, but James was never mine to hold onto.’ A lump constricted my throat and I had to blink back my tears.

      He shook his head, frowning. ‘I know I only saw you together a few times but I thought you two were happy. Next thing I know, he’s with Chloe and you’re a bridesmaid at their wedding.’

      ‘Sucks doesn’t it? If it had been up to me, I’d have married James, had his children, and we’d have grown old together. But he wasn’t feeling the love. Then one day, he finally was. Except it wasn’t for me.’

      ‘Oh, Sammie,’ he said gently, his eyes full of sympathy and his shoulders slumped. ‘I’m so sorry.’

      ‘Please don’t be nice to me. You’ll set me off again.’ I took a deep breath. ‘I know it’s not ideal that he chose someone in my family but, if it hadn’t been Chloe, I’d have lost him to someone else. It was never going to last much longer, no matter how much I wanted it to. But it was Chloe he fell for and it is what it is. And look how happy she is. She deserved to find a good guy after all the bad ones.’

      How could I begrudge her happiness with someone who I knew to be a genuinely lovely person whose only flaw, from what I’d seen, was that he hadn’t fallen helplessly in love with me like I had with him?

      ‘Can I have the bridesmaid and best man?’ the photographer called. ‘And can the immediate family be standing by please?’

      ‘That’s our cue.’ Dad squeezed my hand as we stepped forward. ‘You know I’m here for you if you ever want to talk about it.’

      ‘Thanks, Dad. I know and I love you for it.’

      As we posed for what seemed like hundreds of photos, I pushed my heartache aside and focused on Chloe’s happiness. She wasn’t just my cousin, she was my lifelong best friend. With only a six-month age difference, we’d been in the same class at school and had attended many of the same after-school clubs. We lived a couple of streets apart and our families holidayed together so every aspect of our lives had always been inextricably linked. And now we were linked by James, and I just had to learn to live with that or risk losing Chloe.

      2

       Two Years Earlier

      As I drove through the picture-postcard pretty North Yorkshire village of North Emmerby towards Hannah and Toby’s cottage, butterflies stirred in my stomach. Tonight I would finally meet Toby’s best friend, James Turner – the man whom they were both convinced would be perfect for me.

      I’d been best friends with Hannah for eight years, having met her at Liverpool University where we’d studied our degrees in adult nursing. She’d met her fiancé, Toby, a few years after graduation and, over the years, I’d spent many evenings or weekends in their company. The subject of James and I getting together had frequently arisen but we’d never been single at the same time so it hadn’t been an option. Until now.

      The butterflies intensified as I passed The Fox and Badger where Toby’s thirtieth birthday celebrations would be taking place tonight. Deep breath. Calm down. You can’t spend the next four hours stressing about it.

      James and Toby were playing golf and James had strict instructions to return to the pub at 6 p.m. where Toby was expecting to join Hannah and me for a birthday meal. What he wasn’t expecting was the fifty friends and family members who’d be waiting to surprise him.

      I parked in the lane outside their home, Fuchsia Cottage. The front door opened and Hannah rushed out for a hug. ‘Thanks so much for coming early.’

      ‘Couldn’t leave you to put up all the decorations on your own,’ I said, squeezing her tightly. ‘Do you think he suspects anything yet?’

      ‘Not a thing. Or, if he does, he’s doing a brilliant job of acting like he doesn’t.’

      Twenty minutes later, we’d carried everything into The Fox and Badger’s function room and were attaching thirtieth birthday banners to the walls.

      ‘Are you excited about tonight?’ Hannah asked. The mischievous twinkle in her eyes accompanied by a cheeky wink left no doubt as to what she meant, sending the butterflies soaring again.

      ‘A little bit excited and very nervous. I feel like there’s a massive expectation on us meeting and fireworks exploding. What if he doesn’t like me?’

      She placed her hands on her hips and raised her eyebrows at me. ‘What’s not to like? Besides, you might not like him either, although I don’t think that will be the case. I still maintain that you’re perfect for each other.’

      As we continued to decorate the room, Hannah enthused about how much James and I supposedly had in common – same taste in music, films, books, sense of humour, outlook on life. If – or rather when – Hannah and Toby abandoned us together, at least we’d have plenty to talk about.

      ‘Does he know you’re trying to set us up?’ I asked, positioning a balloon bouquet in one corner of the room while Hannah placed one in the adjacent corner.

      She twisted a highlighted lock of hair round her middle finger and gave me a coy look. ‘I’ve dropped a few hints. Subtle. Understated.’

      I laughed. ‘By which you mean unsubtle and overstated.’

      Hannah looked at me with mock offence. ‘What would make you say something like that?’

      I shook my head at her, smiling. ‘Ooh, maybe the unsubtle approach you’ve used on me. What was it you said? Oh yeah. “Toby’s best mate James is a hottie and the perfect way to get over Harry would be to get under James”. I think those were your exact words.’

      She had the decency to look embarrassed. ‘It’s a good idea. It’s been over two years since it ended with Harry and how many dates have you been on during that time?’

      I sighed. ‘None.’

      ‘Exactly. It’s time to get out there again.’

      I knew she was right but my experience with Harry had massively knocked my confidence. He’d been my first long-term boyfriend and I’d thought it was going well. I thought we were in love and heading for old age together. Apparently not.

      Harry was a junior doctor at the surgery where I worked after graduating. We were friends for a couple of years but it developed into something more. Relationships at work were frowned upon so I transferred to Whitsborough Bay’s district nursing team. On our one-year anniversary, Harry invited me to move in with him but, two years later, he casually told me over breakfast one Saturday that it wasn’t working and I needed to move out. Immediately.

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