Amy Somers felt as if a meteor the size of Manhattan had been lifted off her shoulders. As soon as the door to Sheer Passions swung shut behind her, she felt like an entirely different person. Hannah was right. Getting away had been the right thing to do. And by the time she crawled back home in three days, every sordid reminder of Tim would be gone. As she checked her watch, Amy thought she’d almost lasted five minutes this time without thinking of him. That was what this getaway was about, after all. Getting away. Even so, it was hard to blank out her thoughts. Three days wasn’t nearly long enough. Three decades, maybe. How was she supposed to erase the past eighteen months, and the most serious relationship she’d ever had? I thought Tim was The One… And there she went again, spiraling right back into a well of self-pity. Valiantly, she drew in a breath to stave off the urge to curl into a ball. Not that she would be curling or bending any time soon. How had she let Hannah coax her into these skintight jeans?
