When I was a little girl, my mother and father used to take Wen and me to Snow Valley Park each Saturday afternoon, but only after we made a quick stop to the donut shop. My father and I would each go for a glazed donut, while Wen and my mother held fast to double chocolate. There were so many outings that over the years had turned into traditions—the annual pilgrimage to the Christmas tree lot, the hay rides in autumn, fishing on the lake come spring. The four of us were close-knit—as tight as can be for so long. That’s why when my parents sat us down and informed us they were separating, I thought in fact they were kidding. There was no way that my parents, the ones that never went to bed angry, never had to because they simply never argued, were going the way of the rest of the world. Divorce was something that happened to other families, and my family happened to be perfect.

But our nuclear family did in fact go nuclear, and all hell broke loose both literally and in my fragile mind. I couldn’t see what was up or down. All the truths in my life had suddenly become a lie. And, honestly, it was easier to think that way. The sting of rejection, of separation, of all of the things that I thought would last forever was too painful of an outcome to relive again and again. So I did what I could to survive. I cut down everything in my path just to save it the trouble of dying on me later. The first thing to go was my relationship with Lane. He was right. It was my inability to cope with my parents’ split that led to the end of our world. I was to blame. In hindsight, there was no other girl that Lane was chasing. I was so insecure. Had we passed a mirror, I would have accused him of flirting—with me.

In fear of failing yet another freshman year because of Lane Cooper, I trudge forward and attend classes on Monday and Tuesday. On Wednesday, I do the same, but my mind is anywhere but focused on American History or English 101. I am fully immersed with the terror that waits for me later this afternoon in Finley.

At two, Ember sidelines me and demands to buy me a cup of coffee before the final curtain falls over Lane and me. Our relationship already feels like a carcass. Sophie meets up with us, and we each order a Pink Frappuccino complete with little candy hearts in honor of the fake holiday the world has immersed itself in. I get it. Lovers want a day to themselves, and usually I’m the first one to don my heart-shaped earrings and wear them with pride, but the last thing I feel today is amicable toward love. Not romantic love anyway.

Coffeeology is decked out with enough doily pink hearts to cover the planet, and the sight of them only seems to ratchet up my nerves a couple dozen notches. This is the last hurrah. The last chance I may ever get to issue a public apology to Lane. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want a nutcase like me ruining his life any more than I have. Wen was kind enough to point out that all of our future employers will be able to Google that shit-fest for the rest of our lives. His words, not mine. And so he suggested this might be the only way to rectify it.

“So, your brother is really onboard?” Ember’s denim blue eyes are wide with surprise.

“Not entirely.” I lift my Frappuccino as if toasting them. “But Wen has always been big on finishing what I start, and according to him, if I were ever to apologize to Lane for what I did—he thinks live in front of a studio audience is the only way to go.”

Sophie winces. “He’s right. I mean, I hate to say it, but the two of you have made this a public event. Everyone feels like it’s their business. You sort of made it that way.”

Ember takes an enormous breath. “I agree. And this is exactly why I’m never getting caught up in anything as ridiculous as love. I’ll stick to paper hearts and pink mocha fraps, thank you very much. And believe me, Vi, I’m sorry you have to suffer like this. Just know Soph and I will be in the front row wishing you the best.” She shakes her head with a pitiful look as if the best were an impossibility at this point, and she might be right.

“Thanks, guys. Wen should be here any minute. He’s going to give me a pep talk of his own, I’m sure. It just won’t be anything I really want to hear.”

Sophie blinks back tears. “He’s still opposed to you and Lane, huh?”

I give a circular nod. “As much as I hate to say it, Wen is usually right about things. A part of me just wishes he were wrong about this. Anyway”—I shudder—“I’ve done a pretty good job of dismantling what Lane and I had. I can’t blame anyone else, certainly not my brother.”

Sophie leans over and takes up my hand. Her fingers are frozen from cradling her drink. “I bet Lane is just as anxious to get things right on track as you are. He’s been dying to talk to you. Rowen said he looked as if he was about to shoot through the ceiling he was so happy that you wanted to meet with him.”

“Yeah, well, anger could propel you through a roof or two as well.” I make a face just as I spot Wen and Carrie wave from the window. “Here they come. The Bad News Bears.” I slump in my seat a bit.

Both Ember and Sophie scramble to gather their things and take off for Canterbury as Wen and his blonde bimbo fall into their warm seats. Wen is dressed in his Bixby sweatshirt, something akin to a hazard on this campus, and Carrie looks every bit the Kewpie doll, with her cherry red lipstick and pink sweater dotted with a million red hearts.

“You ready to do this?” Wen looks pained for me, and I’m glad about it, too. Misery likes company, and boy do I ever feel miserable. Something about Wen hurting makes me feel a little bit satisfied, especially since he took Lane’s side the last time we split. Of course, it was for obvious reasons. Collette Jameson came right out and confessed to Wen that I had paid her. It turns out that as much as she needed cash, she needed her dignity to stay intact. She didn’t mind trapping Lane, but she wasn’t going to let my brother think she was a relationship-wrecker—and at a thousand bucks, not a cheap one either.

“I’m ready.” My eyes sting with tears. I have cried an entire ocean to outfit Mars with during the week. But today these are the first tears I’ve shed, first of many, I’m sure. “I guess you’re right. A public apology is the only way to go. I just hope—”

Wen lifts a finger, his sad eyes pinned to mine.

“I know,” I cut him off. “You want me in and out. No lingering. Just a solemn I’m sorry and maybe we can be friends speech.” Wen went over it so much I’ve practically memorized his spiel.

Carrie looks frantically from Wen to me. “That’s right. Lane Cooper is a pig. There’s no way he’s going to hurt you again, Violet. You just need to kick the chair out from underneath him and watch him swing.”

My mouth falls open. “That’s a terrible analogy. And it’s far from friendly.” My God, how did they ever let her into Leland?

Wen picks her hand and kisses the back of it lovingly, and I suddenly feel like an ass for being so intolerant of his plus one. Carrie could turn out to be his permanent plus one, and if there’s even a remote chance of that happening, I should probably be a bit nicer to her in general.

“What I was going to say is.” Wen glances my way with an apologetic look in his eyes. “I’m okay with it, if you and Lane decide to work things out.”

My heart gives a near-fatal wallop. “What?” both Carrie and I shout in unison. For once I’m thrilled to be on the same page with her.

“Yes.” Wen closes his eyes a moment with a twinge of regret spelled out on his features. “I know that the two of you really care for one another. And if this huge mountain is something you can overcome, then maybe you deserve another shot.” He pumps his shoulders just once. “I care about you guys. You know that.” His own eyes glisten with moisture. “Just be careful with each other. And don’t pull stupid shit.” He glares at me a moment. “You’re not some nutcase, Vi. I certainly don’t want you acting like it.”

“Amen to that.” My entire body explodes with heat. Wen has essentially given Lane and me his blessing. It’s every bit the modern-day miracle.

“Stop right there.” Carrie holds up a hand, her voice a little too curt for my liking. “There’s no way you’re going to agree to anything remotely to do with Lane Cooper when you see what I have to show you.” She whips out her phone and fiddles with it for a moment. My heart thunders inside of me because, honestly, I don’t think I could take much more. She extends her arm, and I blink into the image on her phone.

“What’s this?” I try to get a better look as a couple comes into focus.

“It’s blurry because she was outside while taking it. Jewel Donavan, one of my sorority sisters.” She swipes to the next picture and, sure enough, Lane sits right here in this establishment while some blonde freely molests his arm. My heart thuds as I inspect it. He’s smiling. He certainly doesn’t look as if he’s ready to run from her snakelike charms.

“So he’s got a groupie.” I do my best to shrug it off. “The show has upped his value. Every girl on campus is secretly having a Lane-gasm.” I glare at Carrie with the accusation, and Wen groans.

“She’s right,” he says, leaning back in his seat. “I don’t think Lane would do anything like that. He’s too heartbroken.”

Carrie scoffs. “This was way before the breakup.” She swipes to the next picture and stares at it ruefully before flashing it to Wen. “This is the picture that broke the camel’s toe.”

I can’t help but roll my eyes. There is some poor kid out there still serving time in community college because their number one choice gave away their spot to the ditz in front of me.

“I’m pretty sure it’s innocent,” I say to Wen, just waiting for him to agree, but he doesn’t. His eyes bounce up to mine, and that blank expression on his face says it all.

I pull Carrie’s arm forward, and the room does a little spin once I see the image. There he is, Lane Cooper with his lips smacking somebody else’s. Carrie swishes over the next few pictures, Lane smiling, waving goodbye.

Holy hell.

Was I right about Lane all along?

---

Finley Hall is alive with energy. It’s less than three minutes until show time, and I’ve already been poked and prodded by the preproduction staff. I’m polished and powdered, my hair neatly coiffed, and that microphone I’ve grown to hate is tucked snug between my boobs. I’ve donned a navy dress with a touch of sequins, hoping the blinding bling on my accouterment will throw off both the audience and Lane, who has devolved into not much more than my ex once again.

Seth pokes his head in. “Ladies, we’re live. Let’s go.”

I file in after nearly a dozen other girls. The small sampling of poor souls that were required to sit in on the massacre with me last week is here, too. Each of them looks calm, almost giddy as they bounce out of the room single file. I sneak one last glance in the mirror and note my eyes are ringed dramatically with black kohl, my lipstick a touch too dark. I look vampy, far too vixen-like to ever be sorry. I should never have asked for a bold look while they were painting me with their haunted brushes. I glare at myself a moment. If I could, I’d give myself the finger.

Petra rushes in, out of breath, and relief fills her eyes once she sees me. “Thank God you didn’t leave.” She takes me by the hand and whisks me into the cool wings of the stage as I line up behind the other girls. She offers a pitiful smile my way. “I spoke with Lane.” She shrinks an inch as if I might strike her for the malfeasance. “He’s really anxious to speak with you.”

Seth pops up. “No speaking to one another until the emcee directs you to do so.”

The emcee being the infamous Oz, the one who held a lighter to the straw pile that was my relationship and watched it burn from afar.

“Got it.” I take a breath as if I were about to enter a boxing ring, and it damn well feels like it.

The line moves, and I move right along with it.

“Break a leg!” Petra shouts, and I shoot her a look because God knows I’m more than capable.

The warmth of the harsh white lights is the first thing I feel as the crowd breaks out into a raucous applause. The audience is lost in its fog. The sofas are bright red and pink this week in honor of the love-struck holiday. A bevy of pink hearts dance over the floor as a part of the light show. I take the sofa in the center and gird myself as the men stride out, chests back, bobbing their heads as they grin and wave to the crowd. My eyes are slow to meet with Lane’s. He’s not smiling or waving. He’s looking directly at me, tight jaw, those pale eyes examining me with a fervor. An electric jolt jumps between us, and it takes everything in me not to wrap my arms around him or drop to my knees in sorrow. The pain in my eyes tries to say it all.

Oz starts in on his Valentine’s love-fest crap and does a brief intro of all the couples—far too many for an audience of this size to be interested in. Only a select few made the footage for the show. Lane and I are one of them. God how I wish that weren’t true. We could have had the best of both worlds. A budding relationship and anonymity. Without the slaughter, right here in this forum last week, we would still be growing strong. A niggling feeling of doubt razors through me. It’s not true. We would only be as strong as our lies, my lies. I’ve been the weakest link all along.

No sooner does Oz finish up with his lineup of couples than Lane clears his throat, that masculine husky undertone rumbles around the room like thunder.

“Excuse me.” He leans forward and glances up and around a moment. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to kick things off tonight.” The crowd howls and screams so loud you would think the entire basketball team just stepped on stage. I give a quick glance around just to be sure.

“Violet”—Oz booms my name and I can feel it echo through my bones—“it appears Lane has something he would like to share. Does this sit well with you?”

A breath hitches in my throat, and I look to Lane and those frosted green eyes and I want to fall in a puddle at his feet. How could I have hurt such a beautiful man? How could I have doubted what he felt for me was real?

That ridiculous picture Carrie showed me pops right back up, and I’m not even sure what day of the week it is anymore. To say it was a disorienting sight is putting it mildly.

“No, it doesn’t sit well with me.” My voice projects clear across the room as the crowd explodes with a dark choir of oooh. I look to Lane, and his gaze locks over mine. His jaw tightens, and he looks both pissed and hurt. “Are you seeing someone?”

His eyes flash wide, and I swear the room just brightened. Lane’s eyes are that explosively amazing.

“No,” he says it curt and quick, shaking his head slightly in disbelief.

“Okay.” I shrug as my lips press together. A tight coil of emotions begs to unleash deep inside of me, and I know once I do, I’ll be a blubbering mess. “It’s just that some sorority girl got a picture of you with—”

“Becca Carmichael.” He doesn’t miss a beat, and my body explodes with heat as I fill with embarrassment and anger. “She was hitting on me. She kissed me in the café, and she propositioned me at the Underground.” The crowd—mostly the guys—give a howl of laughter and approval. The girls all coordinate in one long boo. It’s safe to say Becca’s name is mud, and I’m not too sorry about it either. “If you don’t believe me, ask Rowen and Braden. They were both there when she did it.”

A moment of silence bumps by. A boulder the size of this building lodges in my throat, and my chest bucks with emotion that I refuse to give into. My body breaks out into a cold sweat as I fill with relief.

“I’m sorry, Lane.” The tears let loose, and it’s over. I try to blink through the deluge, but all I see is a watery version of the boy I love.

Lane pulls me forward, wraps his arms around me tight, and his chest pulses in and out as if he were holding back his own dam of emotions.

“Violet, Lane,” Oz buzzes out our names like a swarm of bees. “Use your words.” The audience laughs at the toddler-like reprimand.

I look up into Lane Cooper’s glowing eyes and offer up a shy smile. “I confess to being a complete emotional mess upon learning of my parents’ split. I had no idea that something like that was even on the horizon. I was blindsided with their decision. And I was certain that if my parents of all people could not make it work then neither could anyone else, least of all the two of us. I felt in my heart that we were doomed to fail—and so subconsciously, I tried to control the narrative. More than that, I needed to be right. It was an exercise in insanity, and I dragged you down during my darkest hour. I am so angry with myself for the accusations I threw your way. I am horrifically ashamed and forever humiliated at the fact I paid Collette to corner you that night.” A chill runs through me as I shudder. “Six weeks ago, when we began this journey, I discovered pretty early on how wrong I’d been all along. It saddens me to know it took something like this for me to realize it. I’m sorry I hurt you, Lane. You’re a good person, and you deserve to be treated far better than anything I’ve displayed.”

Lane takes in a smooth breath, his gaze still fixated on mine. “Are you done?”

Another round of oohs.

I nod quickly, almost afraid of what the aftermath might be.

“Good.” A spreading grin takes over his face. “I accept your apology. I forgive you. And I never want to bring it up again. You’re a great person who went through a very real trauma. I’m sorry that I didn’t have the courage to try to mend things between us sooner. Violet Hathaway, you are the only girl for me. There has not been a day since we’ve been apart that I haven’t thought of you. And no”—his eyes seal with regret a moment—“not even when I tried to wipe the memory of you with other people. My deepest regret is that I didn’t find you, hunt you down, and tell you right then what I’m telling you now. You are the love of my life.” The room lights up with howls of approval. “You are the person I want to spend the rest of my life with. Wherever you go, I want to be there. Whatever you see, I want to see, too. I want to live out the amazing ride on this planet with you by my side. I want to love you the way God intended. I want to be the man that you need me to be. And when life throws us a curve ball, I know that from this moment on we’ll tackle it together. There is nothing too big or too small that we won’t go through hand in hand. You’re it for me, Vi. I’m in for life if you’ll have me.”

A spontaneous applause breaks out in the crowd.

“Of course, I’ll have you.” I pull him in by the neck and land my mouth hard over his, a crash of wanting and of apologies all at once. Lane and I unleash an entire battlefield of emotions, of sorrow, triumph, joy, and unadulterated lust for all to see. I don’t care how many pairs of eyes will feast on this public display of affection. I don’t care if my parents are watching. I don’t care if my brother is currently experiencing a cardiac episode down in the front row. I don’t care if Dexter and his eager to please lab rats are losing their minds because we have just commandeered the show. I don’t care. I don’t care if everyone leaves, the lights go out, and a year passes us by. I just want to sit here and feel Lane’s hungry tongue moving over my own as if it were doling out a threat of sexual things to come. Life had turned on a dime, and Lane and I are back on track, better than ever before.

“Well then”—Oz pipes up, and the room detonates with screams and laughter, applause so loud it could blow the roof off—“if ever there was a day for true love to prevail, it would be this one. How about one more round of applause for The Social Experiment’s latest success story, Violet Hathaway and Lane Cooper.”

Lane and I share a rumble of laughter through our hungry kisses, but our tongues never unleash themselves as we press into one another tight. Lane and I have crested the mountain and come out on the other side lighter than air, ready to slay any dragon met in our path.

The rest of the show goes off without a hitch and wraps up in a blur. Lane and I leave the stage hand in hand, something I would never have imagined six weeks ago. And suddenly, I’m damn glad I felt the need to purchase that scarf in the bookstore.

---

As soon as the cameras cut out, Seth and Petra run up and help strip off our mic packs.

“Now that was a show,” Seth belts it out with amusement. “I hired a whole new security team tonight just in case there was another family brawl. I’m glad things worked out for you.”

“I’m glad, too.” I bite down on a smile as I look up at Lane.

“Me three.” He gives a quick wink as we’re finally freed from the worries. “Thank you, guys. I didn’t think I’d say this, but getting on this crazy train was the best decision of my life.”

Petra gives a surprised smile. “It’s not over. There’s one more date. The Exes Ball, this Saturday. It’s the last day of filming. Dexter wanted to do something fun and light.”

Seth nods. “And it’ll give us something to dress the package.”

I have no clue what he just said, but I’m guessing it’s a marketing ploy. “Will there be food?” I wrap an arm around Lane’s solid body and pull him close as he lands a heated kiss to my forehead.

“All you can eat!” Petra lights up at the mention of sustenance. “It doubles as the wrap party. There are rumors of lobster and prime rib, but don’t hold me to it.”

“We wouldn’t miss it,” I say. “Even if it was just chips and dip.” I wave over at them as we take off. “But we’re rooting for the lobster!”

Lane whisks us through the side of the building and out the door where we can see the sun setting behind the English building as the sky glows tangerine.

He pauses and pulls me in, those crystal green eyes of his press into mine. “I love you, Vi. I promise to always love you.”

“I love you, Lane. As difficult as everything we went through was, I’m so thankful that we are stronger than ever. I can’t wait to start over with you. I missed you.” My finger does a quick S shape down his hard chest. “I missed everything about you.” I give the lip of his jeans a slight tug, and his chest rumbles a dark laugh.

“Vi!” a male voice calls out from our left, and we turn to find Wen standing there with my mother and father by his side.

“Oh no.” I sigh at the sight of them. As much as I love my family, I wish Lane and I could simply steal away to his apartment and get to the good part. “My entire body was looking forward to making this up to you.”

Lane wraps his arm around my waist and leads us that way. “If it makes you feel better, I’ll hold you to it.”

We meet up with them, slightly out of breath, our emotions sill riding their zenith.

Wendell stuffs his hands into his front pockets and shrugs. I can’t help but think he looks every bit like a little boy, and I throw my arms around my brother because I can’t help it. He’s that adorable.

“I love you, Vi,” he whispers. “I’m happy things worked out for you.” He pulls back and looks to Lane. “And I’m happy things worked out for you, too.”

Mom springs into action and cries tears of joy while hugging us both, and Dad gets in on the action, too.

Wen holds a hand up. “All right, you guys. I know it’s Cupid’s big day, but the hug-fest has to come to an end eventually.” He grimaces my way. “I hope you don’t mind. I invited them out this morning, long before Carrie showed us that picture.” He gives Lane a light sock to the arm. “As soon as I saw it was Becca, I figured you were innocent. She’s a carnival ride, man. I knew you wouldn’t look twice at her.”

“No way.” Lane graces me with a look that spells out love more than words ever could. “Not when I have Vi in my heart. Couldn’t happen.”

Mom offers a quick applause. “I always knew the two of you would work things out. As soon as we can, the entire lot of us needs to go out to dinner. I’ll call Laura and Dane in the morning and make arrangements.”

I toss a curious look to Wen. My parents usually avoid one another. Who knew that Lane and I getting back together would be a unifying event?

Dad slings his arm around my mother’s shoulders, and she doesn’t buck him off and kick him in the nuts. Hey? I think we’re making real progress here!

“Come on, Patty.” He gives her arm a quick rattle. “How about we spill the beans and let these kids get to the romantic part of the evening? That is what this day is about, isn’t it?”

Eww. I smile, despite the pain my father unintentionally inflicted. Even though every word he said was true, the last thing anyone wants to hear is their own father spouting romantic implications.

Mom gives a coy smile as she looks to Wen and me. “Your father and I are calling off the divorce.”

“What?” Wen and I shout in unison, and my heart stops beating, my muscles freeze solid.

“Is this true?” I blink from one to the other, and they both nod their heads off.

“It’s true!” they sing together, and it sounds like a thing of beauty.

Mom sighs as she offers a guilty shrug. “If it wasn’t for this crazy ride you kids were on, I don’t think it would have happened. But that fall you took”—she shakes her head a moment—“it forced us to be in the same room again.”

“A very small room,” my father teases. “And after we left that day, I asked her to lunch and she said yes.”

Mom gives a wild nod. “We’ve been together ever since!”

Dad presses a sweet kiss to her cheek. “I’ve rented out the condo and moved back home.”

Mom chortles as if it were the funniest thing in the world. “We’ve always wanted to dabble in real estate!”

“Well, that’s one way to do it.” A river of emotion spills from me as tears once again blur my vision. Wen and I fall over our parents, and the four of us engage in what feels like a month-long embrace.

It’s sweet to get your own happy ending, but when others you love get theirs, too, there is no better day.

---

After a long, bemoaned sendoff, filled with I love yous and exuberant exchanges of affection, we part ways with my parents and Wen.

Lane and I take off and head across the street to Leland Heights where we make a beeline up to his apartment.

He pauses once he unlocks the door and opens it an inch.

“I have a confession to make.” He scoops me into his arms, and I can’t help but belt out a joyous laugh. In Lane’s arms is my favorite place to be.

“You have a monument to old underwear and socks building in the living room?” I was a mess without Lane. Turnabout is fair play.

“No.” He winces. “I hid that this morning.” He steals a quick kiss off my lips, and it feels electric. “What I was going to say is, I was hoping that we would be doing exactly this right about now. I couldn’t help but think of the best outcome. I wouldn’t let my head take me in another direction. So I did this.” We burst through the doors and are hit with an explosion of color as dozens upon dozens of lavender roses preen over at us with their beauty, standing tall in vases set all about the living room and kitchen. The scent of fresh cut flowers, of beautiful blooming roses fills the air with their intoxicating perfume, and I can’t help but take in a lungful of breath.

“Lane.” It’s all I can manage as my eyes do their best to soak in every inch of the visual feast. “Never in my life have I seen anything so beautiful.”

“I have.” He touches his nose to mine. “Right here, in my arms.”

My chest bucks as my emotions churn up one more time. “Thank you for being so wonderful to me even when I didn’t deserve it.”

“You always deserve it.”

I catch a glimpse of something on the floor and shake my head as a naughty grin widens on my lips. “Is that a trail of rose petals leading down the hall?”

“Is it?” He gets that contrived look of innocence on his face. “How about we follow it and see where it takes us?”

“Best idea you’ve had all night.”

Lane sweeps me off to his bedroom, where the room glows with soft light, just enough to reveal a giant heart constructed of petals over his bed.

“You are amazing!” I can’t help but bubble with laughter. “I can’t believe this is my life.” I lift his chin as his eyes settle over mine. “I can’t believe you’re mine.”

“How about I take off all your clothes and do my best to convince you?”

“Deal.”

Lane and I strip one another clean and get straight to the task of convincing one another of just that. We love one another with every part of our bodies, our hearts, and our souls. Lane pours white-hot kisses over every last inch of me, and I do my best to return the favor. Our limbs leash over one another, pulling one another in tight as we become united in every way. We wrestle out the conviction of our love long into the morning hours. Lane feels solid over my flesh, real, and in every single way he has convinced me that I am indeed his.

Forever.