The house is more modest than I imagined. Two stories. Four bedrooms. A walkway lined with rosebushes.

I squeeze Blake's hand as we move towards the door.

My heart is racing. My stomach is flip-flopping. I'm not sure I've ever been this nervous. Lying at a party is one thing. But sitting down with his mom and lying to her face?

I'm still not sure if I'm capable.

Blake squeezes back. It's too sweet, too comforting. I need to banish all the ideas floating through my head, the ones about this being real.

The door is open. He turns the handle and motions after you.

I step inside. It's warm. And it's beautiful. Pictures line the staircase, pillows decorate the couch, books overflow from a shelf against the wall.

We move into the kitchen. Meryl is nursing a glass of wine. Fiona is sitting with a man in a suit. He's in his 30s and he's not really here. His attention is all on his shiny iPhone.

He's the picture of a Wall Street guy. Similar attire, but he's so different from Blake.

It's hard to explain. This guy radiates a certain self-importance. Blake is arrogant, but there's a kindness behind his eyes.

Blake takes my coat and hangs it, and his, on a rack. He greets his family with a nod. "Kat, this is Trey, Fiona's husband."

Oh. Of course. That explains a lot. I'd doubt the possibility of marriage for love if this guy was my husband.

Trey looks up from his phone for a split second. He nods. "Nice to meet you."

Meryl catches my gaze. She shakes her head as she nods to Trey. "What are you two drinking? And don't say you're driving. I saw the limo pull away. What does the poor driver do while you're here?"

"Earn his salary." Blake plants a soft kiss on my cheek. "I'll get drinks."

Meryl holds up her mostly empty glass. "Wine is on the counter."

Blake frowns but takes her glass. I guess there's no sense of objecting to drinking harming her health. Not if she's dying.

My stomach drops. I force my lips into a smile. Half my thoughts go to the warmth on my cheek. I can still feel his lips. The other half go running in the other direction. The stop getting caught up in your own lie direction.

"Have a seat, sweetie," Meryl says. "I remember working in a restaurant. I was always desperate to get off my feet."

I sit. "Actually, I'm not working at the restaurant anymore."

Fiona smiles. "Oh?"

"I quit. To focus on my art." Sort of.

Fiona nods like she understands. "It was the same when I started my clothing line. I had to leave my purchasing job at Saks."

Meryl smiles at her daughter. "I'm sure you could help Kat. Teach her about running her own business."

"I don't know anything about art." She offers me a remorseful smile.

I can't really get a read on her. Does she actually want to help me? Or is she reveling in being withholding?

Everything falls from Fiona's expression as Trey's phone rings.

He nods to his cell. "Excuse me."

She fights her frown, but she doesn't quite get there. She watches her husband leave the room like he's taking her heart with him.

I get the feeling this isn't the first time he's bailed on a conversation for a call. Even the first time tonight.

"My son is a lot of trouble. I hope he's making it up to you," Meryl says.

Right on cue, Blake returns with drinks. Wine for Meryl. Whiskey for him. Gin and tonic for me.

His fingers brush mine as he hands over the glass.

It's the same. My body buzzes with desire. Already, I want to be alone with him.

I take a long sip of my gin and tonic. It's delicious, but it isn't refreshing.

Blake shoots his mother a really look. "That isn't appropriate dinner table conversation."

"Oh, please. You know I wouldn't mind." Meryl looks to me with a smile. "Dinner should be ready shortly. But if you're hungry, there are snacks in the fridge."

"I'm fine, thank you." I finish half my drink. It warms my throat and pushes away the you shouldn't do this voice in my head.

Fiona stares at her half-full glass of wine. "I'm surprised Blake hasn't offered to help you." She looks to Trey's empty seat. "Trey is the one who offered the seed money for my clothing line. He was very supportive."

Regret streaks her expression. The guy taking a call outside is clearly not supportive. He's one of those wealthy guys who writes a check instead of tending to his wife's emotional needs.

I don't know the asshole, and I already hate him.

My gaze goes to Blake. Damn. He's good at this. There isn't a single visible reaction on his face. The man is the picture of cool.

But then, he always is.

"I'll do anything for Kat. Anything." He runs his fingers over my cheek. Stares at me like we're in love. "But her independence is very important to her. She wants to make her own way."

"Admirable, but sweetie—" Meryl takes quite the sip of wine. "Take the poor fool's money if he's offering it."

"It will be our money soon." Blake smiles. "We set a date. The last Friday in April."

"You're not asking for a prenup?" Fiona tries to wipe away the shock on her face but doesn't quite land at a neutral expression.

Blake raises a brow. They share a look of understanding. It's pure sibling telepathy.

"I don't want to hear those words again," Meryl says. "And I do not want to hear a single figure."

Fiona frowns. "But Blake could lose the company if they divorce."

"What did I say?" Meryl squeezes her wineglass.

Fiona flushes red. She stumbles over her words. "I only want to help him protect himself."

"And how did that prenup work for you?" Meryl asks.

"That's different. He had more money," Fiona says.

"I am signing a prenup." I try my most confident voice. "It was my idea. I don't want Blake thinking I'm in this for his money. I may be young, but I'm not naive. I know marriage doesn't always work out. I'd rather we have these details ironed out now than later."

Meryl stares at me the way Blake does. She picks me apart, assessing the weight of every single word. "You're a fool, sweetie, but an admirable one."

I smooth my dress. "Thank you. I think."

She laughs. "It's a compliment." She looks to Blake and Fiona. "My kids, they don't get it. They think marriage is about protecting your assets. It's not. It's about finding a partner who will hold you up when you need that. It's about finding someone who you need by your side. Someone who will support you."

I swallow hard. Marriage should be all those things. It should be everything.

Right on cue, Trey walks into the room. "Fi-fi, sweetie, I have to go."

Meryl shoots Fiona a see look.

Fiona frowns. "Can't you stay for dinner?"

He leans in to plant a kiss on her check. "I wish I could, but this is an emergency." He looks to Meryl. "Meryl—"

"Don’t bother." She shakes her head. "This is the example I set for you. Hell, at least you're leaving."

Somehow, this doesn't hurt Trey.

He looks to Fiona and whispers something. She narrows her eyes and furrows her brow.

Trey stands and takes a step towards the door. "I'm sorry, Meryl. I'll see you next week."

Meryl clears her throat. "Have a safe drive."

Trey kisses Fiona goodbye and steps out of the room. Everyone is quiet until the door slams shut and a car outside turns on.

Fiona addresses Meryl. "He's trying to be supportive."

"He's an asshole."

"So was Dad."

Meryl lets out a heavy sigh. She stares at her wineglass like it holds all the secrets of the universe. "If you do this to Kat, I swear to God…" She looks at me. "Some family to marry into."

I swallow hard. "Blake is sweet."

Meryl makes eye contact with him but speaks to me. "This is what money gets you—the pursuit of more money."

"I'm not like Trey. And Kat isn't like Fiona," Blake says.

"Fuck you." Fiona folds her arms.

"Not everything is an insult," Blake says.

They exchange hostile looks. There's something knowing about it. Like there's no way for them to let anyone else in.

They seem to hate each other and love each other in equal measures.

Meryl's voice softens. She offers Fiona her hand. "You didn't know better, sweetie. You were just a kid."

Fiona pulls her hand into her lap. "I was nineteen."

"Exactly. You're better off without him," Meryl says.

"With nothing," Fiona says.

Meryl looks to Fiona. To Blake. Neither one of them is willing to challenge her. Something about her expression makes them stand down.

Meryl shakes her head. "What is with you two? Why is it always money? There's more to life than that."

Under the table, Blake squeezes my hand. He looks at me as if to ask are you okay?

I nod yes. I'm okay enough.

The room goes quiet. It makes the air heavy. I guess Blake and Fiona agree that everything is about money.

It's kind of sad.

I've never pitied rich people before. Not even for a second. Being broke sucks.

But it makes you appreciate what you have.

I have a best friend. Someone I love unconditionally, who is always going to be on my side.

I wouldn't trade my relationship with Lizzy for all of Blake and Fiona's money.

Fiona plays with her food. She looks to Blake and adopts her best sisterly voice. "Three and a half weeks is awfully fast."

Something passes between Meryl and Blake. Damn. This whole family has some kind of crazy telepathic power.

"We don't want to wait," Blake says.

Meryl looks at me as if to confirm. "Is that right?"

"It was my idea," I say. "I'm insistent about marrying under the cherry trees, and I don't want to wait another year."

Her expression softens. "I see."

"I'm very sentimental about them. It's always been a family tradition. Well, I don't want to bore you."

"And your family approves?" she asks.

"It's just me and my sister. My parents were in an accident a few years ago. They passed on." I press my lips together. I don't like thinking about it. It gets too many feelings whirring in my chest, and I don't have time to stop and feel them.

Or I didn't.

I guess I do now.

"Oh, I'm sorry, sweetheart," Meryl says.

"Thank you." I nod.

"You'll need help with the wedding," Meryl says. Her voice is packed with understanding. "How about I handle the reception? Just pick a color."

It's a sweet offer. "Pink."

Meryl smiles. "A girl after my own heart."

The kitchen timer rings. Meryl presses her hands into the table, but she struggles to stand.

Blake rushes to help her. She shakes her head like she can't stand the fuss.

"I'll get it," Blake says.

He motions to Fiona, another sibling secret. Whatever it is, it works. Fiona excuses herself and they put together dinner in the kitchen.

"Let them fuss," Meryl says. "Tell me, what do you like to do for fun?"

"Typical stuff. Movies, TV, hanging out with my sister."

"What about the stuff that isn't typical?"

I play with the hem of my dress. "I ran cross-country in high school, but I haven't kept up with it very well."

She looks at her glass wistfully. "Never cared much for running myself."

I nod. "Are you okay?"

"Fine. What about when you want to relax? After a run? You don't strike me as one of those girls who is mostly interested in parties and shopping. Though I did enjoy both in my day."

"I draw." I make my voice confident. I'm about to marry the woman's son. I need to seem like a strong, independent woman. Someone worthy of him. "I've been thinking about art school."

"Excellent. Art school. Yes, that would suit you. You'll have to stay in the dorms and drive Blake mad forcing him to visit."

"That would get him out of the office."

She smiles, but it's not the same as before. She doesn't quite have her strength.

Blake and Fiona finish setting the table. They bring in dinner on thick ceramic plates. It's homemade, a pot roast and side salads dressed with a dark vinaigrette.

"Thank you," I say to no one in particular.

I take Blake's lead when everyone starts eating.

Meryl picks at her salad. Fiona stares at her food like it bores her. I can't imagine she has much of an appetite after her husband's remarkable show of apathy.

She turns her attention to me. "Can I see the ring?"

"Oh. Sure." I place my hand over the table like I'm modeling the enormous rock. "It's beautiful."

"Tiffany?" Fiona asks.

Blake shoots her a shut up look.

"It looks expensive." She glances at her smaller but still impressive wedding ring.

"Don't be tacky," Meryl says.

"I'm admiring my future sister-in-law's jewelry." Fiona huffs. She squeezes her hands together like she's trying to stay calm. "Am I not allowed an interest in jewelry either?"

"What did I ever do to raise two children who care so much about status?" Meryl shakes her head. "What the hell are you going to do when I'm not here? You'll drown yourselves in your fucking money."

"Mom, that's not true," Fiona says.

Meryl pushes her plate aside. "Excuse me. I need some air."

Blake makes a move to follow her.

"Sit down. I'm fine. My only problem is the two of you. Finish your dinner, and clean up after yourselves. I know you both have people who do that for you at home." Her eyes turn down. The energy drains from her expression. "Have dessert and coffee without me."

"Mom." Fiona's voice breaks into a whine. "It's cold out."

"I grew up here. This is nothing. Please, let your poor mother have a chance to be alone." She grabs her coat off the rack and walks up the stairs.

For once, I can perfectly read the look on Blake's face. He's terrified.