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“This thing is so boring and kind of uncomfortable. The small slit in the back is too small to walk but it did just kind of stop me from completely falling.”

“That was me. The gallant and stalwart hero. I saved you.”

She laughs at me. “You’ve never saved anyone but yourself.”

“Ouch, kitty got claws tonight.”

I reach for her and she slides her arms around my waist and rests against my shoulder and her laughter disappears. I find myself looking at her more directly than I’ve looked at anyone in a long time.

“Are we getting carried away?”

“Yes and no. Yes, because it’s fun. And no because I don’t think either of us has forgotten for even a second that it’s fun because it’s fake. We both know there’s an out.” She explains it perfectly.

“It’s a vacation from ourselves,” I say.

“But what’s fucked up, is this doesn’t feel more fucked up.”

That lands somewhere in my chest and stays there like it’s stuck. I look at her and know exactly what she means because it’s true for me too, and that’s only a problem for the next eleven hours. Then I’m off to the other side of the world. “I have pictures. Meet me at the bar after.”

“Hey.”

“What.”

“Respond to what I said.” She crosses her arms and I get close enough to see every fleck of green in her eyes, and I tell her the most honest thing I’ve said in years. “I feel the same. I like how you see me. But I need to keep you on the right side of fake.” She nods sharply, flicks me off and then sucks her middle finger.

I walk toward the photographer and my family as Kat heads inside.

My father’s booming voice catches Kat trying to escape and she gets beckoned over to the family portrait, and I don’t stop it because I kinda want her in the picture. She stands in front of me and I hold her whispering, “be selfish.” I know they’ll airbrush her out later but for now, she’s in it.

I pull her away from the crowd and my mother yells. “Come here.” She positions us like dolls and I leer at her.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Look at her like you love her. Just for a moment please.” I indulge her and look Kat in the eye. She gazes up at me with a mischievous grin and her special brand of chaos in her eyes. A flash interrupts us.

“Shit. It’s an engagement picture. Ugh.” Kat groans as Birdie gives the photographer her father’s email address. The mothers are already talking. Shit. I lean close while we pose and I keep whispering “be selfish” because it’s the only thing I can think to say that might actually help either of us right now.

Chapter 26

2 Wrongs Make a Night

KAT

Maui

Eventually the excitement will die down, and we can pretend to break up with dignity, but today, well, today it looks like I’ll have to make believe it’s the happiest day of my life. Jack raises his glass. I get guilt cramps, like a running stitch. I try to bend over, but Zane steps behind me.

“Zane, my boy, it’s been a long bumpy road for you. Who knew at the end of it would be this damn fine woman? If I could dream up a woman for you, I would’ve conjured Katy. I welcome you to this family as well as to our hearts. Everyone, please raise your glasses to the rider who broke our stallion.”

Incredibly touched, I try to slip back into actress mode. Birdie speaks next. “I have a hunch. It was Zane who tamed Kat.”

“Hear, hear!” everyone shouts. I watch my parents’ friends and his family raise a glass to my faux happiness. Bryce has my parents on FaceTime as they watch this. I wave to them. Whether it’s conscious or not, Zane moves me in front of him and wraps both arms around my waist. He makes me a human shield. Should there be a drive-by shooting, I’m going down not him. Even if it is an emotional drive-by, I’m still the one taking it in the femoral artery. I’m sure it looks romantic to the rest of our ad hoc audience, but I know he’s protecting himself, at least subconsciously.

Zane speaks while keeping an arm around me. “Thank you all. We’re thrilled, but today’s not about us. It’s about Nate and Stacey. I wish them all the joy today. Katydid and I will have our time.” Nice touch with the Katydid.

He leans over my shoulder and I turn and kiss him. Our lips linger longer than all the other performative kisses. The crowd awes and then they disappear for me as I am singularly focused on the feel of his lips on mine. Neither of us daring to move or even increase or decrease pressure on our lips. We’re suspended in all that could be and shouldn’t be but wouldn’t it be nice.

He breaks our kiss and answers those calling out. “She was sitting on the steps of my friend Colin’s pub. We’d been denying what we were for a while.”