(Sabrina’s POV)
I wake up at six in the morning, my heart racing like I'm fifteen again and getting ready for my first real date.
Which is ridiculous. I'm a thirty-two-year-old divorced mother. I shouldn't be this nervous about spending the day with a man I barely know.
But my hands are shaking as I stand in front of my suitcase, pulling out outfit after outfit and tossing them onto the bed.
The blue sundress? Too casual. The black dress from dinner? Too formal. The white linen pants? Too—
"Stop it," I mutter to myself. "You're being insane."
But I can't stop. Because this feels important in a way I can't explain. Like today might change something fundamental about my life, and I need to show up as the best version of myself.
I finally settle on a soft coral dress—nothing too fancy,
