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“No.”

“So then you think I should still get married?”

“Vinny, I can’t tell you what to do. You have to decide that on your own. I’m just saying that staying in a relationship because of some noble idea that that’s just what a good man does isn’t true.”

Silence settles over the kitchen.

I came here expecting my mom to talk me into this marriage. To say what I’ve been feeling is normal. That every groom panics. That this is just cold feet.

I came here hoping my mom would tell me I had to stay.

Instead, she told me I was allowed to leave.

And that’s worse.

Because now there’s nothing keeping me with Juliet except me.

And only two days to figure out what to do.

EMMA

I walk hand in hand into the wedding venue with Shane.

Every step feels like a death march for my heart.

I knew this weekend would be hard, but I didn’t think it would be this hard this early. I thought, with Shane by my side, I wouldn’t feel the canyon of hurt carving itself out of my heart. But I’m acutely aware of it.

“Hey?” He tugs me closer. “You okay?”

I’d be lying if I said I felt calm. But I say it anyway.

“Yeah, of course.” I smile. “Why?”

He chuckles. “You’re squeezing my hand so tight it feels like we’re walking through a haunted forest, and you’re terrified of what’s on the other side.”

I am terrified of what’s on the other side.

“Em!” Juliet squeals when she sees me. She’s dressed in an off-the-shoulder white mini dress. She’s stunning. She runs to me, gathering me into a hug. “Can you believe we’re finally doing this?”

“No, I can’t,” I breathe out.

Over her shoulder stands Vinny.

He’s in a dark suit—so handsome it hurts.

Our eyes meet for the first time since last week, when he tore himself away from his kitchen. There’s so much between us in that single look. I wouldn’t even know where to begin understanding it all.

Juliet moves from me to Shane and gives him a quick hug too. “Thanks for coming!”

“Excited to be here.” Shane reaches his hand out to Vinny. “Hey, man. Congratulations.”

“Thanks.” Vinny smiles as they shake hands, but it’s counterfeit. No dimple in sight.

Then he steps in front of me. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

What’s protocol?