Before Ramona’s eyes opened, the pounding in her head reminded her of the previous night’s events. She pulled her stiff body to sitting and rolled her head. Passing out on the couch had left a painful crick in her neck, as evidenced by the loud pops and clicks with every move. It had been a really long time since she’d drunk so much that she’d been unable to make it to her own bed.

She narrowed her eyes at the large white clock across the room and did a quick calculation. Everyone would be on their way to the church right now, if not already there. Lucas and Abigail’s wedding day had finally arrived. Ramona had spent the previous two weeks up to her eyebrows in work, flying across the globe, attending meeting after meeting. Anything to take her mind off that day. She kept waiting for him to call and tell her the wedding was a sham. He wasn’t going to marry Abigail. He only loved her. But no call came. Even a night drinking and crying hadn’t purged the torment from her body.

Several blinks brought the rest of the room into view. The spare, bright space, typically pristine, was strewn with bottles, plates, and congealed slices of pizza. A glance confirmed the apartment was empty. She didn’t remember saying goodbye to her friends.

One of the consequences of constantly being on the road was having no friends in her own town. She’d had this place in San Francisco for five years, but she might as well have been a visitor. When she needed a couple of girlfriends to help her drink it out, she called on some new friends: Camille and Jenna, both connected to a long-ago ex-boyfriend, Jackson King. He’d wanted to come over too - they’d been close friends for years now - but considering it was his cousin she was crying about, she kindly asked him not to.

Even Tyler volunteered to help her drown her sorrows, but she knew better than to accept. Their entanglements were a bit too tricky. He’d been pushing hard for her to take an assignment in London for a year. It was probably the most prestigious offer she’d ever had - which may or may not have involved some royals - and would have kept her far away and distracted from the Lucas situation. But she didn’t want it. No more running away for this gal. Her plan included heading directly into the pain. After her one night of inebriated avoidance, of course.

Standing up created a wave of dizziness. Nausea, too. Food, water, and bed might be her only hope. Maybe she wouldn’t wake up until the next day. At least then, everything would be done. There’d be no more hoping and wishing and waiting.

She opened the refrigerator to retrieve the water pitcher and saw her phone sitting on top of a block of cheese. What the…? A spotty memory of someone taking it from her when she insisted on calling him. At least they hadn’t hidden it somewhere harder to find.

As soon as she picked up the cold device, texts and missed calls filled the screen, covering up the picture of her and her dad. She wiped the fogged-up glass on her leg. Her brother’s name was on most of the message bubbles. The adrenaline of panic forced any bit of intoxication away. Something had happened to her father. She touched the button on the most recent voicemail and put the phone to her ear. It chilled her entire body.

“Hey, Mo, where are you? You better-”

The phone beeped with a new call. Her brother again. She picked up.

“What the fuck, Ramona!”

She moved the phone, and her brother’s booming voice, away from her ear. Too much sound for her state. “Connor, please stop screaming. What’s going on? How’s Dad?”

“Dad? Dad’s fine. Why are you asking me about Dad?”

“You called me a million times. I thought…” She looked at the clock again. “Wait a minute. Aren’t you supposed to be best man at a wedding right now?”

“That’s what I’m calling about! Dammit, Mo, you don’t have a lot of time. I need you to focus and listen to me.”

She walked over to the kitchen table and sat down heavily in a padded chair. A fresh wave of fatigue hit her. Why didn’t she have a lot of time?

“Are you there? Are you listening?”

“Yes, Con, I’m listening. What is going on?”

“He’s not getting married today. And I know why.”

She waited for him to continue. And for the pounding of her heart to stop being deafening. “God, can you please say something?”

She heard him take a deep breath. “It’s hard to know where to start. He came to my house really early this morning and told me the whole thing. Abigail is running for Congress. But everyone hates her.”

No surprise there.

“Anyway, apparently, Lucas owed her a favor. And getting engaged was him paying her back.”

“What? That makes no sense. What kind of favor would require someone to marry you?”

“Well, that’s the thing. The favor was not to marry her. It was to dump her at the altar.”

She wondered if her brother was inebriated. Or having some sort of mental breakdown. “I don’t think I’m awake enough for this conversation. You’re making no sense. Why don’t we talk later?”

“No!”

She pulled the phone away from her ear again. Why was he yelling?

“We don’t have time, Mo. I really need you to pay attention. She wants to get elected, but everyone hates her. Thinks she’s too perfect. Untouchable. Some advisor told her that she needed some big tragedy in her life to get people to feel bad for her. She devised this grand plan to pretend to be engaged and then get dumped. It’s been going on for almost a year.”

Ramona was surprised the chair still held her up considering how heavy her head felt. Thoughts swirled and swished just outside her grasp. “Why didn’t he tell anyone?”

“Hardcore NDA, apparently. Couldn’t even tell me, until this morning, when the gag order ended. I guess she didn’t want to take any chances that the scheme would get out.”

“Holy shit, Connor. I’m having trouble keeping up. This is really twisted.”

“You’re going to have to. I’ve been calling you since he left here hours ago. He’s going to be there any minute, Mo.”

“Be where? What are you talking about?”

He groaned. “Are you drunk? You’re being really slow. Yes, he’s on his way to your place. Went straight to the airport after leaving my house. The only thing on his mind is seeing you.”

“Oh, my God.” She wanted to have something else to say, but nothing came. Could this really be happening?

“Listen, Mo, I’m really sorry for the shitty things I said to you. I should have trusted you knew what you were doing. I was just so angry with him.”

“It’s okay, Con. I had no idea what I was doing.” Shit. “What am I supposed to do now? I haven’t spoken to him since I left Virginia.”

“From what he said to me, he’s serious, sis. He loves you, which we already knew. He wants to be with you.”

She took in the disaster that currently filled her apartment. It was in no condition to receive a visitor. She looked down at the pizza stains on her crumpled tee shirt. Neither was she.

She got up, tucked the phone under her ear, and picked up a sponge. “Okay. I gotta go. I’m a mess.”

“Wait. Are you going to tell him?”

That stopped her in her tracks. Yes. It wouldn’t have to be a secret anymore. “I suppose. But I really gotta go.”

“Alright. Love you, sis. Good luck.”

“Love you. I’ll let you know what happens.”

She moved in double time, like a turbo-charged cleaning robot. Everything hauled into the garbage, bottles thrown into the recycling, couch reassembled into reasonable shape. She wished she had a better sense of his ETA. Was there time for a shower? What would he do if she wasn’t available to answer the door? In that moment, logistics was much more within her capabilities than emotions.

Ramona stripped down as the water heated up. It would have been great to linger in the hot shower, but she couldn’t risk it. She pulled her soaking wet hair into a bun on top of her head, threw on clean jeans and a sweater and walked back into the living room. She almost expected him to already be in her apartment, sitting on the couch waiting for her. Would security stop him at the front desk? Had Connor given him all the details of how to find her place? Damn, why had she destroyed so many brain cells with all that Tequila?

She looked down to see she was wringing her hands. How foolish. What was there to be nervous about?

Coffee. She needed coffee.

She paced across the compact kitchen to the drip of the coffee maker. She didn’t want to be planning out her response to an undefined question. What did Connor mean about wanting to be with me? Did he tell Lucas about her ideas? Would she really do it?

The knock on the door startled her enough to slosh the hot coffee onto her fingers. She grabbed a towel to wrap around her hand and then stood at her front door. She counted four breaths before answering.

The man who appeared on the other side of the door was in many ways familiar, but at that moment, like a creature she did not understand even one bit.

“Hi, Ramona.” His eyes looked tired and bright at the same time.

She stepped to the side. “Hi. Come in.”

He held eye contact. “I’m taking by the look on your face that you knew I was coming.”

She nodded. “Connor…”

“Good. I’m glad. I wouldn’t have wanted to barge in like this without you being a little bit prepared.”

“Doesn’t mean I’m prepared. I’m struggling to understand what’s going on.”

“I get it, and I’m here to answer all your questions. Would now be an okay time to talk?”

She walked toward the sitting area when his hand caught her arm. In one move, she was pressed against his body, enveloped in his arms, feeling the vibration of his chest as he spoke her name. She tilted her head up and touched her lips to his. Everything felt better.

He slowly pulled away. “I’m glad you feel that way about my being here. I wasn’t sure what to expect.”

She stepped back, out of his arms, all the confusion and self-consciousness returning. “Can I get you something? Coffee? Water? Food?”

“Water, for now, thanks.”

He was sitting on the edge of the couch, perched forward, when she returned. She sat down next to him, and he took her hand instead of the water.

“I’m so happy to see you, Mo. You have no idea.”

“I… I don’t understand what’s going on, Luc. Connor tried to explain it to me but…”

“Yeah. It probably makes no sense.” He shifted his seat to face her. “Let me explain…”

She grabbed a pillow and wrapped her arms around it, suddenly uncomfortable and unprepared to hear the truth from his own lips. She’d been waiting for weeks, but now that the moment had arrived, she wanted to run away. Or throw up.

He tilted his head. “Are you okay? You look like you’re not feeling well.”

“I had a rough night.”

His eyes widened. “Because you thought I was getting married today?”

She considered her response. He’d flown across the country to see her. Admitted he loved her. Maybe hiding and pretending were no longer necessary. “I kept waiting for you to call me and tell me it wasn’t going to happen. But I didn’t hear anything from you. What else could I have thought?”

“I couldn’t say anything. The NDA was solid, up until midnight last night.”

That didn’t make sense. “Last night?”

“Well, technically, it’s still in effect, but the friends and family waiver kicked in. Finally.”

She appreciated the relief on his face. Despite the fact that his words were far from comprehensible.

“Mo, when I signed it, I had no idea it was going to matter that much. Then you showed up at my restaurant. I tried my damnedest to get Abigail to modify the terms, but she wouldn’t. Even though she liked the idea of us being together - it would add to the horror of her situation. Fiancé dumps her for another woman is apparently great political fodder. And a great headline.”

She wanted to laugh with him. Even to smile. But the sickness and the resultant grimace wouldn’t budge.

“Maybe I should start at the beginning. Abigail and I were in law school together, as you might remember. We dated for a while but it never got serious, and we stayed friends. Then everything fell apart when I decided to drop out. My family was up in arms, my mother wouldn’t even speak to me, most of my friends abandoned me. It was an eye-opener. I never realized how many people around me were only interested in my family. I felt like a naive ass.”

That period of time was a distant memory for Ramona. And not a pleasant one. She’d been so mad at him for going to law school, for following in his family’s footsteps even though he knew it wasn’t right. She’d called him a coward and a sellout.

“I’m sorry, Lucas.” She dropped her head and took a ragged breath. “I was probably the shittiest of all your friends. I didn’t care that you decided to change courses. I’d never forgiven you for starting out on the path you did.”

She picked up the glass of water and took several gulps. Only after putting it down did she remember that she’d brought it for him. “Oh! Sorry! That was your water. I’ll get you a new one.”

He pulled her back down when she tried to stand up. “It’s okay. We can share it.” He took a sip. “I don’t blame you, Mo. I understand how frustrated you were with me. I didn’t have my head screwed on right. It was a really hard time.”

She lightly touched his arm, then couldn’t decide what else to do. Squeeze his shoulder? Take his hand? She dropped her hand back onto her own lap.

“Abigail was the only one who stood by me. She even mediated with my family. The whole thing was very surprising, even now, knowing her and her personality. So, by the time I got back on my feet, I was immensely grateful to her. I made her a promise - if there was anything she needed, I would do my best to help her.”

Ramona shook her head. This is where the story fell apart for her. “So she asked you to fake marry her?”

“Sort of. About a year ago, she was advised that she had no chance of winning a popular vote. Her perfection made her really unlikable and also invisible. She needed a scandal. Something that would make people pay attention.”

Ramona squinted. “Didn’t you think it was crazy?”

“Absolutely. I wanted nothing to do with it. I’d worked so hard to keep myself outside of my family’s games. This was exactly what I’d upended my life trying to avoid. Then she reminded me of the promise I made. She broke me down, and I ended up agreeing.”

“Luc… it all just seems so preposterous.”

“I know. But I didn’t imagine I’d… well… get into a conflicting situation. I wasn’t seeing anyone. I was focusing all my energy on the restaurant and my house. We were hardly ever together. It wasn’t going to be such a great imposition. But then…”

Ramona held her breath.

“You. You ruined the plan. Sent me running to Abigail desperate to get out of the contract. Or at least renegotiate.”

“She refused.”

“Yeah. I think she didn’t realize how being connected to my family would also give her a boost. It was working even better than she hoped.”

“And now?”

“I’m sure there’s a video of her breakdown at the altar all over the internet. Lucas-the-cheater is probably a trending hashtag. I know it’s going to be a media circus for a while. That’s okay. It’s done now.”

“Aren’t you worried about your reputation? How about the restaurant?”

“For better or worse, Mo, my customers love this type of drama. I would imagine that it’s going to be impossible to get a reservation at Winston’s for many months. That was never my intention, but I was prepared. That town thrives on scandal.”

“Wow. That’s quite a story. I can hardly believe it.”

He slid over toward her. “I was actually thinking about disappearing for a week or two. Maybe spending some time… away.”

There was no need to ask for further details. She knew exactly what he meant. “I…”

“So now that you know. Now that I’m free, can we talk about us?”

Ramona swallowed. The problem was not that she didn’t know what to say. It was that there was too much. “I’m not sure what to say. This is all so…”

“I love you. I want to be with you. I’m willing to do anything to make that happen. But I have no idea what you want. That’s what I’m here to find out.”

She dropped her head, which had become unbearably heavy, into her palms. One breath. Two breaths. Three breaths. Four-

“I don’t mean to rush you. If you need time to process what I’ve told you, time to think about how you feel, I’m happy to give it to you. I can clear out of here, go to my favorite cafe in the North End. I’m not in a hurry. You’ve always been worth waiting for.”

She hadn’t realized she’d been crying until the wetness soaked her hands. She looked up to see the softness in his expression, the earnestness in his eyes. “I don’t need time. I know what I want.”

He looked at her as if he wasn’t sure if what she’d just said was good news or not. She could swear he braced himself.

“Do you remember our conversation about home?”

He closed his eyes. Hopefully, he was imagining the same scene she was referring to, when they lay on the tatami mat in his bathhouse. Barely dressed and open-hearted. “Of course. I loved being in there with you.”

“You said something that bothered me. That maybe avoiding home wasn’t serving me anymore. Maybe I needed something more.”

“I guess…”

“In so many ways, I love my life. The freedom, the lack of anyone depending on me. I get to help lots of people, but no one gets to ask anything of me. And still, even though my life is everything I wanted it to be, there’s something missing.” She studied his face, waiting for a reaction that didn’t come. “I don’t even know what that is, specifically, but I feel its absence. Does that make sense?”

“I think so, Mo. I think I understand what you mean.” He didn’t look like he did.

“So, this feeling got mixed in with my heartbreak about you, and some new ideas started filling my head. Things I hadn’t let myself feel or think for a really long time. And then I met this amazing woman - actually, it’s Jackson’s girlfriend-”

“My cousin, Jackson? The legendary playboy?”

Unless she’d seen it with her own eyes, believing Jackson had a legitimate girlfriend would’ve been impossible for her, too. “Not anymore. He’s head over heels. Anyway, Camille, that’s her name, was desperate for a way to make right on something terrible that happened to her family. And she’s got a lot of money to throw at it. I’ve been talking to her about my grandfather’s house and maybe doing something with it. Together.”

His eyes widened. That was the conversation they’d had that ended in a very unpleasant fight.

“She loved the idea. I think it’s going to happen.”

“You’re going to do something with the mansion? Wow. That’s amazing, Mo.”

“I know I got angry when you first suggested it. I’m sorry about that.”

“If I remember correctly, I got that delicious green juice as an apology.” He smirked. “But seriously, that’s great news.”

She smiled, satisfied that she’d been able to say it out loud. “So, that’s it.”

“Wait… what’s it?”

She gave him her best are you daft expression. “The decision I made.”

Too much was going on in his face. As if he was trying to solve a really hard puzzle. “What are you saying, Ramona?”

She sighed, exasperated with his lack of comprehension. “I’m saying that it’s going to be much easier than you thought.”

He slid forward in his seat. “Why?”

“I’m coming home.”