I slip out of my chair and squeeze past the other guests, pushing my way out into the hallway. The private room we’re in leads into a vestibule area, part way between the kitchen and the rest of the restaurant. I stop there, to try to catch my breath.

I don’t actually have to use the bathroom — in fact, I have no idea where the bathroom even is — but I needed to get out of there for a minute. I was starting to feel suffocated in that room.

Hannah’s gift had been lovely — beyond lovely, really — and it was so kind of her to include me in her celebrations, and to think of me when she must have a thousand other things on her mind.

But all I can think about now is how she would feel to know that I was a virtual stranger. Just a girl Jace picked up at a bar, a girl he was banging in exchange for a week’s worth of lies.

I lean against the wall and tilt my head back, trying to get my breathing under control and keep the tears from flowing from my eyes.

The door to the private room swings open, and Jace bursts out. He seems surprised to see me standing there, and he stops abruptly.

“Celia, what’s wrong?”

I hastily wipe the tears away. “Nothing. I just got a little emotional.”

“You’ve been quiet all evening.”

He stands in front of me, putting his hands on the wall on either side of my head. “Tell me what’s bothering you.”

“Nothing. Everything. I don’t know.” I laugh ruefully.

“Okay.” I can see the hesitation in his eyes, as if he knows he needs to tread carefully. “Can you be more specific?”

I wipe away another stray tear and sigh.

“I guess I just feel guilty about lying to your family like this. They’re all being so sweet to me, they’re making such an effort to include me in everything. How would they feel if they knew the truth? Do you think Hannah wants to know she’s been including a stranger in all her special wedding activities?”

Jace tightens his jaw.

“It’s not great,” he acknowledges. “But they won’t ever find out. I’ll just call them in a month or so and tell them we broke up. It happens, right? They’ll understand, and that’ll be the end of it.”

“The end of it,” I say, huffing out a breath. “Right.” There’s a bitterness in my tone that I can’t seem to do anything to mask.

“Hey,” he says, leaning closer. His lips are close enough that I could lean in and kiss him, and his scent envelops me warmly — cedar and sandalwood and clean Irish soap. “Why don’t you tell me what’s really bothering you?”

I raise my eyes to the ceiling, as if it will help me draw from some deep well of strength. Then I reach out and grab Jace’s tie, pulling him in so that his face is even closer, just inches from mine.

“What are we doing, Jace?” My voice is hoarse, and in other circumstances, I’d say it sounds jazz-singer-sexy. Now it just sounds desperate.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean this … what is this? Because sometimes I think …”

Jace sucks in a breath, his brow furrowing. Almost as if he knows what I’m about to say.

I lets go of his tie. I lean back against the wall again, putting more space between us. A safe amount of space.

“Sometimes I think this was a mistake,” I say. “I should never have agreed to pretend to be your fiancee.”

“Pretend to be his what?” Trent’s voice comes from somewhere behind us.

Fuck.

Jace looks at me, his eyes wide in horror. I’m sure there’s an equivalent expression on my own face. I look over his shoulder and see Trent, coming out of the private room.

He steps fully into the vestibule. His face is contorted in anger.

“Pretend to be his what?” he says again, looking from Jace to me and back again.

“Trent…” I try to start but I have no idea what to say. I look to Jace for help but he just blinks wildly and shakes his head as if he can’t believe what’s happening right now.

Trent is standing next to us now, looking back and forth between Jace and I.

“What’s going on here?” he demands. “Is this … is this all a lie? Jace? Just another lie?”

Jace’s face cracks a little, and when he doesn’t deny it, Trent’s expression twists into a scowl.

“I should have known,” he says bitterly.

I need to get out of here. I can’t believe I did this — ten words and I managed to completely blow this for Jace.

“I think I should go,” I say. My voice is barely more than a whisper. Jace reaches for my arm, but I duck out of his reach. “I’m sorry,” I say over my shoulder, though I don’t even know which of them I’m apologizing to, and with that I run, like a coward, out of the restaurant.