Valentine’s Day. What a shitty day. A day for people to rub it in the faces of all their single friends that they were happy and you were miserable. Why the f**k had I thought being a wedding photographer would be a good idea?
I went out to the beach just after dawn with my phone, knowing I needed to make my phone call early if I was going to reach anyone.
The phone rang twice before she answered.
“Sawyer? Is that you?”
“Hey Vick. You ready?”
“It’s Sawyer,” Vicki said to whoever was in the room with her. “I’m so glad you called. How are you?”
“I’m good. Are you still going to marry Hunter? Or did you decide you’d rather run away with me? My bed’s big enough for both of us if we get real close.”
“Aw, I miss you, Sawyer. And your inappropriate suggestions.”
“Put him on speaker,” some
