Chapter One

Men wanted to be with her and women wanted to be like her. There was no jealousy, hatred or envy – just a deep admiration for all Heather Mills had achieved, despite the obstacles she had to overcome and everything that went against her.

Heather was not strikingly beautiful on the outside – in fact, she was quite plain; short for her ripe age of twenty – two, brown eyes which supported only a faint glint, low cheekbones, dank brown hair with a faded red tinge, pointed nose, full lips and a high forehead.

But it was her kind soul, friendly personality and deep set empathy for all that shone through.

Despite her physical confinement to a wheelchair after a car accident three years ago in which her best friend and Heather’s fiancé had been killed, her dysfunctional family – Heather’s father was a womanizer, having an affair with a different woman every other week, her mother both an alcoholic and compulsive gambler, and her nineteen – year –old brother an Ice addict- and the painful realisation that she may never walk again, Heather had risen above and supported herself enough for all of her family, pushed herself towards her ultimate goal – to be a recognised and published author.

And it happened.

After countless rejections, a constant feeling of loneliness, and a long battle with her self – berating inner voice, she finally did it.

Her short story, Love in the First Degree, won first place in the annual Australian Women’s Weekly / Penguin short story competition. Twelve months later, her novel In the Name of Love was published.

Everyone had been sincerely happy for her; even her parents and brother had managed to acknowledge her achievements.

That was a first.

Heather was content. Well, almost.

Every week, she had two intensive physio appointments, a counselling session, a hydrotherapy session and a catch – up lunch with her closes friends. But there was still something missing.

Love.

Her parents weren’t exactly romantic role models, and the last relationship she’d had had been with Matt, her fiancé.

With so many of her friends getting engaged, married or pregnant, Heather had began to feel lonely. Though she’d learnt to overcome the consistent tugging at her heart, the feeling still shot occasional sharp pangs through her heart – especially when she imagined what life may have been like if Matt had lived.

Would she be spoon feeding an Matt Jr. or Mini Me? Would they be happy?

Heather had dealt with her grief, learned to live without Matt by her side. But she could not – would not – live without love.

Before meeting Matt, Heather had written men off as controlling, stubborn and self – centred.

But Matt had changed all that.

It was at her graduation that Heather had first noticed Matt. Unbeknown to her at the time, he had admired her from afar two years previously, before accepting a construction apprenticeship with the local council.

After chatting with Matt for almost two hours, Heather began to appreciate that not all men were jerks. He was sweet, kind – hearted, easy to talk to and entertaining.

The relationship had sky – rocketed from there.

They had two happy years together. They had a future planned, invested in a house of their own, which Heather had rented out after his death, and were beginning to try for a baby, constantly discussing the idea of marriage.

Getting over Matt hadn’t been easy, but Heather would always be grateful for teaching her how important it was to have love in your life.

Heather knew that Matt wouldn’t have wanted her to give up on love – and Heather wasn’t about to let him down.

Miram was smiling brightly as she shoved her hand underneath Heather’s nose. On her ring finger, she wore a large, sparkling diamond ring.

‘He proposed last night! Isn’t it…?

Huge?

Miram’s ring had been the centre of attention all throughout lunch, and the sunlight reflecting off the large rock had been blinding Heather for the past forty – five minutes.

‘It’s gorgeous,’ Linda gushed for the fifteenth time that day.

Heather rolled her eyes. Kill me now.

It wasn’t that she disliked Miram – Heather loved her best friend with all her heart. It was just that Miram had a tendency to go over the top.

Every Wednesday, Miram, Heather, Linda and Sophie would meet at the local hotel for lunch. They were the only people from their school days left in Grafton – all their other friends had left in search of bigger and better things.

‘It was so romantic. He took me for a picnic dinner down at Whiting Beach in Yamba…’

God, get me out of here.

It wasn’t as if Heather was annoyed, or even remotely jealous. She just knew the general outcome of anything Miram was overbearing about. It almost always ended in disappointment.

‘You’ve only known him a month…’

Cara, the most practical of the group, began to protest. It was general knowledge to all that Miram fell in love too easily. And that every time Miram passionately argued…

‘But this time is different,’ Miram whined.

Good to know Miram could always be counted on for her predictability.