The grand ballroom of the Blue Ridge Estate buzzed with the civilized clink of crystal glasses and the polite murmur of one hundred well-dressed guests.

A year and a half after the wedding that never happened, I stood on the rocky shoreline of the Outer Banks in North Carolina. The ocean wind whipped through my hair as waves crashed against the sand, sending salt spray into the cool air.

Beside me stood Liam Vance—a talented landscape architect and the nephew of my attorney, Sarah Vance.

We had met eight months ago when I hired his design firm to landscape the outdoor courtyard of my business office. Liam was nothing like Daniel. He didn't care about high-society galas, he didn't check my salary, and he drove a muddy pickup truck filled with saplings and drafting paper. He was honest, fiercely independent, and grounded in a way that made me feel completely safe.

"What are you thinking about?" Liam asked, wrapping his warm jacket around my shoulders and pulling me close to his side.

"I was thinking about frozen chicken tenders," I said with a light laugh.

Liam chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to the side of my head. "Best catering menu ever created."

"Why?"

"Because if those tenders hadn't been in that kitchen," Liam said softly, looking out at the horizon, "you might still be trapped in a life that wasn't worthy of you."

I looked up at him, meeting his warm brown eyes, feeling a profound sense of peace settling deep into my bones. He was right.