My heart skips a beat and I nod. “Yeah, of course. Kiera, I’ll uh, I’ll be back.”

I gesture for Cillian to lead the way.

He’s dressed up today, wearing a pair of light, perfectly draping wool trousers and a sage-green button-down that looks comfortably worn in. He’s got the kind of physique that can pull off anything, I think. Some people can slip into Valentino and look ready for a premiere, and some people need to be tucked and nipped all over before looking right. It’s nothing to do with attractiveness either; it’s that some people have a quality that makes everything work on them.

Cillian has that quality. Effortless.

He leads me to a quiet part of the garden about twenty yards from the party and we sit down on a bench. I know I was in the fray only a moment ago, but stepping away from it, I already feel like an outsider.

Aware that it’s not my life. Jealous that it isn’t.

“So can you catch me up?” he asks, his voice low and patient.

Grumpy as he may be, I have a feeling all of our issues stem from me.

I do catch Cillian up, and his face remains impassive as he listens. He leans over with his elbows on his knees, his finger tracing the lip of his plastic cup. When I finish, he furrows his brow and lifts his gaze to mine.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but Meg, is this all about … well, I don’t even want to ask. I can’t imagine you’d make something like this up.”

“No, I wouldn’t. I promise you, I’m not messing with you or lying or— I mean, the only real possibility here is that I have completely lost it. But I feel fine!”

He shakes his head, looking overwhelmed, rightfully, by the information.

“You’ve been to see my dad?”

“Yes. He didn’t mention it?”

“Of course not,” he says. “I heard about your … condition from a couple eejits at the pub last night.”

I take a moment to appreciate his dad for his discretion, fully aware that this should be a given with any doctor, but also a little too used to the frequency of mysterious leaks that make their way to Page Six.

“Your dad thinks I’m disassociating. Kiera keeps calling it time travel but doesn’t believe me either way. I mean, she believes I believe it. Aimee is the only one who seems to understand that I’ve slid dimensions. Or something.”

“You told Aimee? I suppose that’s why you’re here, then, yeah? You two put your stuff on hold in the wake of whatever this is.”