“You must be Mr. Dawson,” he greets me.

I regret my choice of casual attire as I take in his coattail and white gloves. I feel as though I’ve stepped into one of the period dramas my mom likes to watch as I stare at who seems to be an actual butler.

“Yes, that’s me,” I respond.

He smiles and steps aside for me to enter. I should have expected it from the extravagant exterior, but I still stare around at the entryway in shock. I’m fairly certain my entire childhood home could fit inside it. The ceiling is soaring, allowing for the twin set of staircases that curl around each wall to meet in the center, covered with red carpet. The walls are white, but covered with subtle carvings with a gold accent. The marble floor is so well-polished I can practically see my reflection in it.

I’m studying the table that rests in the center of the room, holding a massive arrangement of colorful flowers, when I hear footsteps. I glance up to see Viv appear on the balcony that joins the tops of the stairways. She’s wearing a white strapless sundress, and her strawberry blonde hair is down in its usual messy waves.

Our eyes lock, and I can see the tentativeness in her light blue ones. I feel another pang of regret about how I acted in the hospital as she holds my gaze. I give her a smile, trying to convey my apology wordlessly.

She stands frozen for another moment and then suddenly begins running down the stairs. She’s wearing heels, but doesn’t falter when she reaches the gleaming floor, sprinting effortlessly across the glassy surface toward me. I barely have time to drop my bag before she hurls herself into my arms.

“Jace,” she breathes.

Her scent surrounds me, floral and fresh. I breathe deeply, savoring the feel of having her in my arms again. Too soon, she draws back so she can look up at me. I study her features, even more stunning in person than on the airbrushed pages of the tabloids I’ve been haunted by.

“I was hoping you might be a little more excited to see me,” I tease.

She smiles, but then her expression dims slightly. “Of course I’m excited to see you. It was you I wasn’t sure about.”

I deserve that. “I’m sorry for how I acted at the hospital. You caught me off guard.”

“It’s fine. I understand.” she replies quickly. Too quickly. Her blue eyes won’t meet mine.

“Viv, I mean it. I’m sorry. It wasn’t fair to lash out at you like that. I know—I know you didn’t do it to hurt me. And I know it’s done nothing but complicate things for you.” I don’t elaborate on what those things are, unwilling to bring up the fact she’s engaged to someone else when things are already so strained between us.

Viv finally looks at me. “Thank you for doing this.”

“You would do it for me,” I state confidently.