The moment I opened my hotel room door, anxiety hit me faster than my mother’s perfume.

“Mila!” she exclaimed, wrapping her bony arms around me in a brisk hug. “Have you even brushed your hair today?”

I sucked in the eye roll and ignored her, facing my father. “Hey, Dad.”

His arm was wrapped around Jude’s shoulders, and he gave me enough attention to rub the top of my head before he pushed past me into the room that was theirs for their stay.

Jude didn’t wait, just stepped forward and gave me the hug I’d needed from him. He was my only buffer between our parents, though I didn’t like putting him in that position. But because he was also my best friend, he stepped up to the plate time and time again. “Her hair looks great, Mom. It’s the style,” he called over my shoulder, and I squeezed him harder. When he pulled back, my anxiety had lessened a bit. “You look good, Mila-moo.”

I leaned into him after closing the door. “Didn’t we discuss losing them in the airport on your way here?”

“Yeah, well, they practically have me on GPS—hard to lose them.” He squeezed my shoulder reassuringly. “It’ll be fine. It’ll be great. Don’t worry.”

But I couldn’t not worry.

“I thought we were getting a garden view,” my mom said by the windows, frowning as she pulled off her gloves. My father was already hitting the liquor I’d purchased and placed on the cabinet by the television.

“Sorry—this was all they had with two rooms next to each other. Like I told you on the phone, I could’ve stayed on this side and you on the garden side if you didn’t want adjoining rooms.”

“Don’t be silly, Mila. We didn’t come all this way to spend time apart.” Her voice was cutting, and I felt immediately like I was a small child, being told to wait in the waiting room, being pushed aside so easily. I exhaled a deep breath and nodded, remembering my lines.

“Of course, Mom.” I exchanged a look with Jude, whose face radiated apology. “Where’s Trista?”

Jude looked pointedly at our parents, explaining without words that the reason he didn’t bring his girlfriend along was for this very reason. I tried not to be disappointed, because I genuinely liked Trista, but the fact that I’d stolen Colin from her still weighed heavily on me—which meant her absence was probably for the best.

My father sighed as he sat with his glass of whiskey and turned on the television. My mother pulled out her phone and started tapping on the screen with her fake nails. If I could be consoled by anything, it was that nothing had changed, for better or worse.

I sunk onto the bed nearest the door. “How was the flight?”

“Ugh, long.” My mother tossed her gloves onto the stand by the television. “Already, George?” she asked my father, one auburn eyebrow raised.

He ignored her—his special brand of love—and flipped to a channel that had sports on it.

“Your father spent nearly thirty dollars on liquor just on the flight over,” she said, the disgust neatly tucked in the sides of her mouth, which were turned down.

Despite my anxiety, I found a strange kind of comfort in how consistent my parents were toward each other. Nothing had changed there—which meant that this trip would be entirely predictable.

“The flight was good,” Jude said, standing by the window with one hand holding the curtains back. “I slept most of it.”

“Doesn’t surprise me.” I gave him a wry smile.

“Well, I didn’t sleep.” My mother’s hand was over her throat, and she acted as if she was personally offended by the fact that Jude had dared fall asleep instead of listening to her manifesto on the seven-hour flight across the Atlantic.

“You must be tired.” I waved a hand at the bed I sat on, and stood up, already ready to make my exit.

“I could use a nap. I’m sure your father will be snoring after his second one of those.” She pointed at the drink in his hand, and he ignored her, just as she had ignored him in speaking of him in third person. “But I want to go out tonight.”

I’d prepared a list of restaurants, knowing how my mother was the exact opposite of “easy to please.” But before I could list them, Jude turned to me. “Let’s go to Free Refills.”

My mother turned to me with a question in her eyes and I turned to Jude with murder in mine. “No, it’s super casual. I’m sure Mom and Dad would be happier elsewhere.” Mentally, I kicked myself for keeping Jude apprised of my goings-on while I’d been in London. And mentally I kicked him too, for having a big mouth.

She sat on the bed and released a sigh. “I don’t think I have the energy to get dressed up for a dinner anywhere upscale tonight.” She leaned back against the pillows, and I tried not to laugh at the picture she made, which contrasted completely with what she claimed. “What is this Free Refills?”

“It’s a pub,” I said, smiling to myself for using Ames’ preferred term. “But really, you don’t want to go there, there’s—”

“If it has food and drinks, I’m sure it’ll suit your father and I just fine,” she interrupted. She closed her eyes and her face relaxed, making her look years younger than usual. “I’ll just take a short nap and we’ll go.”

Jude walked me out of the hotel room and once we were in the hallway, I turned to him. “Seriously, Jude? I don’t want to take Mom and Dad there!” I tried to remember if Ames was working. He knew my parents were coming to town, but we’d never made actual plans for me to bring them by. That felt too … official for whatever it was that Ames and I had.

“I want to meet this guy you’re blowing off work to spend time with.”

Even though he hadn’t chastised me, it still felt like it. I gave him an awkward smile and walked down the hallway a ways, so I wasn’t right outside our parents’ door. “Sorry. I’ll work on that.” I rubbed my eyebrows. “And I’m fine with you meeting Ames, but I don’t want them to meet him.”

“GPS, remember? They’re not going to let me go traipsing around the city without them on an invisible leash, being tugged along.” At my forlorn look, he put his hands on my shoulders. “It’ll be fine. It’ll be great. We’ll go for a couple drinks—Dad will get drunk enough that Mom will have to babysit him back to the hotel. I won’t make them suspicious about Ames at all.”

I shrugged away from him. “Fine. But make sure Dad has a few here before we go. Shorten his time there, you know.”

Jude promised and went back to our parents’ room. My own room was blessedly quiet, even with the low hum of Dad’s television show against the wall. I turned on my television for background noise, locked the door that adjoined the two rooms, and collapsed onto my bed with my phone in my hand.

I waited a very long time for Ames’ reply—an entire thirty minutes. It was long enough for me to know the answer before his Yes flashed across my screen.

Summoning Jude’s promise, I tried to agree with what he’d said. It would be fine. It’d be quick, painless, and my parents wouldn’t know about my little romance with a London bartender. I knew they wouldn’t object to my having a romance, but having a romance with someone on the opposite side of the world was more than they could actually endure. And while it didn’t matter to me what they thought, I didn’t want to listen to more badgering than necessary.