Eventually, it’s time to head back to the house. Michelle had asked us to come home and change into nicer clothes before dinner at one of her favorite restaurants in a neighboring town. Blake stretches his arms overhead with a sweet grin on his face.

“You look so beautiful today,” he says.

Then he drops down on one knee and my heart stops. His head lowers, and I can’t see his expression anymore. Does he plan to propose and then celebrate with his family at the restaurant? He’s fumbling with something by his foot—wait. He’s tying his shoe. He’s not proposing; he’s making sure he doesn’t trip over his loose laces.

I take a deep, jagged breath. The air feels sharp within my lungs. He rises again.

“Ready for dinner?” he asks.

• Chapter 17 •

I schedule wedding planning now, the same way I plan meetings and marked off time in my calendar to go to barre classes when I cared about having a toned butt. It’s half past noon, so it’s time to squeeze in a half hour’s worth of work in the time I typically reserve for my lunch break. With the wedding just five weeks away, I have no other choice. I head into the back room to sit in Helen’s old leather chair and finish following up with a travel company offering me a luxe honeymoon for free—as long as I promote the shit out of it on Instagram, of course. I picked the Mediterranean package. I like the idea of traipsing around the Greek islands, the beaches of Croatia, the coast of Italy, maybe Morocco, too. When that email is done, I research florists who can do bridal bouquets. I’m going low budget on the flowers. I don’t need floral centerpieces on every table, since I don’t even know how many tables I’ll have. I just need a bouquet for me to hold as I walk down the aisle and a boutonniere for my groom. I think the flowers should be in assorted red tones—they’ll pop the most in photos.

It’s hard for me to wrap my head around how I feel about Blake. The more time I spend with him, the more I can imagine myself falling in love with him for real. I don’t doubt that I have feelings for him, but I do doubt that they match the strength of his feelings for me. And it’s hard to swallow the undeniable fact that if the circumstances were different, I wouldn’t be fishing for such a quick engagement. But because of my predicament, I’m desperate for the proposal to happen soon.