My questions over what happened remain unanswered. My need to know got lost in the sadness in his eyes that he tried to hide with quiet smiles, brushes of his lips against my cheek, and his praise for how I look.

But something did in fact happen and no matter how well Jase Gizmodo cleans up, pressed and polished in his tuxedo, it doesn’t erase it.

I glance over at him again and wonder how he was able to turn it around so easily. It’s almost as if he was born for this.

Maybe he was.

As he interacts with those around him, he laughs in all the right places, nods at the perfect moments, and then turns on that charm with his effortless grin. The same charm that easily won me over.

He’s introducing me to everyone we meet or who greets him. He’s doting on me with his attention when others are looking our way, but I can see the mask slip every once in a while.

It’s in the way his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. It’s how Rocket or Hawkin or Vince make a point to come and talk with us for a few minutes at a time, whichever one’s turn it is unassumingly studying Jase’s face to make sure he’s okay. But there are some moments when Jase goes somewhere absently and then gives a little shake of his head to bring himself back. He’s here, he’s present, but it’s a struggle to find his way back.

But I applaud him for it and hate that he has to do it at the same time.

As the night wears on, his spark comes back bit by bit. Eventually, the mask slips off completely and we’re all treated with the Jase Gizmodo we all know and love with his sincere laugh and wide smile.

A warm hand presses against the small of my back, guiding me through the room. His touch is light, almost absentminded, but I’m well aware of it and him beside me as are all the eyes in the room.

“So you’ve met the guys. Thoughts other than how you married the wrong one?”

I chuckle. Our introductions were brief and amid others so there was a subdued greeting like we know each other. But I still noticed their assessing stares and felt their silent judgment as they wondered what kind of woman would marry a guy she’d never met before.

And while it was slightly uncomfortable, a part of me was grateful that he has friends who look out for him since it seems no one else does. There is clearly genuine closeness between the four of them that I didn’t sense he has with Nathaniel.

“You’re staring at me, Cookie,” he murmurs, his breath teasing the shell of my ear.

I stiffen, instantly defensive. “I am not.”