And they’re guaranteed to disapprove of me.
In fact, Allison may disapprove of me, too. She was dating a surgeon.
She’s too good for me.
I’m going to lose her.
I never really had her to begin with.
“Hey,” Allison says, stroking my jaw. “Are you okay?”
“Of course,” I say, pasting a smile on my face. “Let’s figure out where we’re seated. I can’t wait to eat my $100 steak.”
Nine
Allison
Dinner is delicious, whichis to be expected at a wedding where no expense has been spared. The cake is possibly the best I’ve ever tasted. And to my sister’s credit, she seems truly happy, as any bride should on her wedding day. She hasn’t said anything nasty to me all day, not even during pictures.
But Mitch is acting strangely. On the surface, nothing seems to have changed. He’s smiling and chatting and being as charming as ever. But it feels like there’s been a seismic shift at some point during the day. There is somethingoffin his touch.
As we dance, he rests his hands on my hips. But it feelsdifferent. This morning in bed, we were connected. We wereone. Now, it’s as if he’s shoved an invisible force field between us.
Our fake engagement has an expiration date. We didn’t discuss what that date was going to be exactly, though I suppose it was understood that it would only last through the wedding.
Am I never going to see him again after today?The thought is so wrong, so utterly repugnant, that bile rises in my throat. I can’t imagine going back to a world where there’s no Mitch.
I bury my face into his chest as we sway side to side with the music and mouth the words I’m so desperate to say—but terrified to admit out loud.
I love you.
“May I have this dance?” A woman says loudly, pulling me from my thoughts. I glance over to see a beautiful blonde batting her eyelashes at Mitch.
Jealousy and rage heat my blood, and I’m tempted to shove her away from my man. Then I remember that he’snotmy man. He’s myfakefiancé. Despite how I feel about him, our relationship isn’treal.
“Selene,” Mitch says, darting his eyes at me. “What are you doing here?”
Warning signals go off in my brain. This womanknowshim. She knows he’s not Dr. Adam Mitchell, an orthopedic surgeon who’s engaged to marry a music teacher from Nashville.
She smiles brightly. “The bride and I go way back. We ran in the same pageant circles as girls.” She holds out a hand. “Dance with me, and I’ll tell you all about it.”
He shakes his head, pulling me closer. “I’m here with Allison.”
“You’re heretogether?” Her eyes narrow at me. “Weren’t you a bridesmaid?”
“Yes,” I say, swallowing around the lump in my throat. “I’m the bride’s sister.”
She blinks. “Her sister? But I heard she was engaged to a doctor or something.” Her gaze takes in the engagement ring on my finger and her eyes dart back to Mitch’s face. “What’s going on here?”
“I can explain,” he says.
But how can he explain? The jig is up.
My stomach flips with dread as my mother emerges beside us on the dance floor. “What’s this commotion all about?” she asks.
Selene slams her hands to her hips. “Something fishy is going on here.”
A muscle clenches in Mitch’s jaw. “It’s not really any of your business, Selene.”
