The Divorced Heiress Is Entering a New Marriage

I left Logan’s office and made a beeline for the bathroom. Or as it had become more recently, the place where I go to cry.

I went into the first stall and let the flood gates open. I had expected the conversation with Logan to be hard, but I had not expected myself to have this reaction.

I had told Logan the story of what I had desperately wished would happen with Chance after he proposed with Natalie. I had played that scenario in my mind every night before bed for at least a month. I was glad now that it hadn’t worked out with that scumbag, but telling that story made me face the fact that I was longing for a relationship like that. I wanted to be married, to be planning a life together with someone I was mutually madly in love with.

Instead, I was still living at home with my parents, with no real prospects and very little hope in ever finding the love I wanted. This was not the life I had imagined for myself when I was in college. I had imagined myself as a successful actress, with a husband and a nice house and maybe a kid on the way. had none of those things and I was beginning to wonder if I would ever actually have a life that I liked. This content is © NôvelDrama.Org.

I pulled out my phone and opened the group chat I had with Megan, Rachel, and Maria.

I might regret this,” I started typing. “But I think I’m ready for you guys to set me up on dates.”

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I hesitated for a moment. My friends had offered to set me up for years. I love them dearly, but they have very different tastes in men than I do and none of them were in great relationships themselves. I let Megan try once, but after the guy showed up and immediately started flirting with all the girls that passed by us, I decided that was the end of that.

But. I was feeling pretty desperate. I pushed send.

Megan responded immediately with a single “?”

Maria laugh reacted to my text. “You must be desperate,” she said.

Rachel – bless her had the best reaction: “OMG, I have the perfect guy for you! Just let me know when you’re free.”

“Literally anytime,” I wrote back. I returned my phone to my pocket and blew my nose. I wiped the rest of my tears and stepped out of the stall, feeling at least a little better than when I had gone in.

I felt my phone buzz in my pocket and pulled it out again. Rachel had written back:

“He’s down! Friday at 8?”

I suddenly felt very nervous. Was I actually ready for this? I told myself there was only one way to find out. “8 works, just let me know where,” I sent back. Rachel heart–reacted to it.

I wished there was a vomiting reaction I could send, to convey just how nervous I felt at the thought of jumping back into the dating pool again.

I walked back to my desk. Logan’s last words to me popped in my head. He was right, I did owe Dylan an apology at the very least. I had never responded to his party invitation, and I felt terrible about it. But how was I going to explain to him that me attending the party was really not a good idea. He would’ve asked why and I couldn’t bear to tell him that I was “married.” Not yet, anyway. I needed time.

I pulled out my phone and opened Dylan’s messages. I wondered what was appropriate to say in this Situation, but I kind of felt like maybe no one else had ever been in my shoes before, so there was no set

precedent for it I imagined.

“Hey,” I sent first. Then I typed: “I’m really sorry about leaving you on read on Friday night.” I pushed send.

I was about to set my phone on my desk when I felt it buzz. That was fast, I thought.

“Hey you. It’s okay. Is everything alright? We sure missed having you there,” he said. He had typed all that very quickly. I was kind of impressed.

“Yeah, I’m okay. I’m sorry I couldn’t make it. How was

“It wasn’t the party Logan hoped it would be, but it was still a good time. Maybe you could join us for the

next one?” He sent.

“Yeah, maybe.” I wrote back, then shoved my phone into my purse so I wouldn’t hear or feel it. I hadn’t really given Dylan an explanation, which I felt guilty about. But an apology was a good start, I felt.

Friday night finally rolled around, and I found myself laying on the floor of my closet at 6:50. I didn’t have very much longer to get ready for my date, but I was frozen in place by indecision about what to wear. This was just dinner with some guy. If I were being honest, I would say that I was really not looking forward to giving up my favorite night of the week to spend with a guy that probably wasn’t the one.

I knew that wasn’t fair of me to say about him. I’m sure he was a perfectly lovely guy. I had just had a slew of bad dating experiences before Chance and I wasn’t ready to deal with more disappointment like that again

I looked around my closet once more, wishing suddenly that I had a personal stylist. I sat up and plucked my little black dress out from the back of the closet. It was a pretty safe option for dinner at a nice restaurant, I thought.

I paired it with my favorite glittery silver flats and headed out the door. I drove to an Italian restaurant I was surprised I had never heard of before called Uncle Benzoll’s. I stepped inside and looked around briefly for him. He told me he would be wearing a yellow button down shirt and would have a single rose waiting on the table for me.

He was already off to a better start than any of the men I’d gone on dates with before.

I spotted someone with his description sitting at a table to the right of the entrance. Since I hadn’t told him what I’d be wearing, he had no way to identify me. I presumed. I would have to make the first contact.

I walked closer to the man and spotted a rose sitting in front of him. As I got closer, I realized the man had a full well, partially full head of gray hair. This guy had to be at least in his 70s. No way he was actually my date. I turned and took another look around the place. Unfortunately, he was the only one that fit the description. Maybe my date was late?

“Hazel?” I heard a shaky, elderly voice behind me. I turned. The gray–haired man was staring straight at me. “Are you Hazel?” He asked.

I gasped. I know Rachel did not set me up with this guy