Happily Ever Afterlife

Prologue

I didn’t believe in love at first sight until I was sixteen. Before that, I totally believed my mom when she said boys have cooties. But.

There is always a but.

But I met him on a family camping trip. We were in Yellowstone and I was sitting in the amphitheater, waiting for the ranger program to start. He was seventeen and going to be a senior. I was going to be a junior, so he was way cooler than me.

And beautiful. So beautiful.

Dark, spiky hair and deep blue eyes that sparkled, like he was always amused. He was tall, so the top of my head barely came to his chin. I was wearing tennis shoes, because we were camping, after all, but in heels, I’d be nearly as tall as he was—exactly where I needed to be when he bent his head to kiss me.

And yes. I knew all this instantly, before I even knew his name.

Also before I knew his name, I knew that I loved him. My entire body knew it. I was drawn to him, physically drawn to him, like cupid was shoving me into his arms. And I wasn’t even mad at cupid, because the arrow pierced my heart, and brought me to life.

“Hi.” I tried to smile up at him, a friendly smile because we were strangers, but a friendly smile wouldn’t come. Instead, I was locked in his eyes.

He sucked in a breath, searching my face and call me psychic, but I knew he felt what I felt. “Ash,” he whispered, slightly strangled.

“Winter.”

We spent the entire day together, exploring Yellowstone, dodging buffalo, and he walked me back to our campsite. He held my hand. And I could see our whole life before us—where we would live, what we would do.  I would be a lawyer. He would be an architect.  He wouldn’t be home from his camping trip for another week, but I gave him my number and he promised to call as soon as they got back.

He never did.

I was heartbroken. And no matter what I did for the next six years, I couldn't forget him, and no guy could erase his memory.

Love at first sight sucks.