To have and to hold, from this day forward …’ I thought I would never feel like this about anyone ever again. Not after Will, my first love … Not after the heartbreak and the loss and the trying to pick myself back up again … Then I met Matthew, and I know that he has my heart forever: my perfect, gorgeous, adoring Matthew. And then I wake up. And I remember that he’s not perfect. He’s so far from perfect that my heart could surely collapse from the pain that engulfs me. ‘Sorry for waking you,’ my friend Marty apologises from beside me as she vigorously rubs at a damp patch on her jeans with a paper napkin. ‘Bridget knocked my effin’ drink over with her fat arse,’ she mutters. I groggily come to and look across at Bridget. She’s fast asleep and partially curled up towards the window, her offending arse anything but fat. Feeling like I’m still in a dream – or, more accurately, a nightmare – I bend down to retrieve my bag from under the seat in front of me. Tissues are the one thing I did remember to pack.
