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"I won't start until the spring semester." I tug at the fabric of my dress. Same thing Lizzy was doing. "Most of them are in the northeast." None are anywhere near Stanford.

Meryl smiles at Lizzy. "At least you'll get the apartment to yourself for a few months."

"Oh, yeah. I guess you're not going to live here after you and Blake get married," Lizzy says.

"After the honeymoon." He looks at me with love in his eyes. The pretend kind. "We can pick out furniture tomorrow if you'd like."

Meryl shakes her head. "Please, my son has never picked out a piece of furniture. He has a decorator."

"Oh yeah?" I ask.

"You better take the reins, honey. His apartment and his office are so terribly utilitarian. Who can live like that? It's like a science fiction film," Meryl asks.

Lizzy's ears perk. "Which one?" She looks to Blake. "Don't tell me you have an intentional aesthetic."

"She hates art unless it's art direction in a sci-fi movie." I shake my head.

Meryl laughs. "She's a plebeian. Like me. You'll have to leave the art and literature to intellectuals like you and Blake. The rest of us need explosions and drama."

"True." Lizzy looks to Blake. "Where are you going? On your honeymoon?"

"Paris," Blake says.

Right. Paris. I knew that. I nod like it was my decision. It won't be so bad, fucking Blake in the City of Light. All that romance surrounding us…

"Paris. How lovely." Something in Meryl's expression changes. More serious. "I'm glad you two…"

"Mom?"

"You seem happy. I never thought…" She stares at her wineglass. "I never thought Blake would find something real."

Real. Right. I smile my biggest smile.

Lizzy frowns, but she doesn't say anything.

I think she gets it. How can she not? Meryl lights up the room. It's impossible to do anything but want her happy.

The server arrives with our drinks.

It's a perfect distraction.

Lizzy buries her face in her soda.

I drink half my gin and tonic in a single sip.

Meryl studies me the way Blake does, picking apart my intentions.

I'm not sure I can keep up my poker face. Between Stanford being official and our wedding in two weeks and Meryl coughing…

It's too much.

A loud hello interrupts my train of thought.

Fiona steps into the room. Alone.

We go through a round of introductions then she sits next to Blake. "You okay, Mom?"

"Fine. Stop asking," she says.

But Meryl doesn't look fine. Her skin has a slight yellow sheen. She's sweating. Her smile is strained. Her voice is shaky.

"Are you sure?" Fiona asks.

"I'd like to have one dinner that isn't about my condition. We're celebrating your brother's wedding."

"Of course." Fiona taps my shoulder. "I'm going to use the restroom. Join me, Kat?"

She isn't really asking.

But what could she possibly have to say with me?

She already offered me a small fortune in go-away money.

I look to Blake for a clue.

He nods go with her.

He knows his sister better than I do.

"Yes." I push out of my chair. "I need to fix my lipstick."

I follow Fiona to the restroom. It's quiet. Empty.

And beautiful. How can a bathroom be this beautiful? It defies logic.

She stares back at me. "I take it you're going through with the wedding?"

"Yes."

"I guess that's your decision." She looks to the mirror and adjusts her hair. "I have to admit, I admire it."

"Huh?"

"Your prenup. You only get a million dollars if you divorce."

Only a million dollars. What's wrong with these people?

She looks to me. "The offer stands. I know a hundred grand is a lot less than a million dollars, but it's a lot faster."

"I don't want money."

She looks me in the eyes. "I believe you."

My cheeks flush. "Then why are you—"

"I thought I was sparing Blake before. Maybe I was. If you were a gold digger, you'd have taken the money and run. Or demanded a lot more in your prenup."

"I told you—"

"I know. You aren't after his money. You want to be with him."

"Yes. Of course."

"I know my brother. I love him. He's my best friend. But he's another rich man. He thinks the world revolves around his desires."

"He won't—"

"Exactly. He won't. That's a full sentence. All those things you dreamed of as a little girl, the romantic walks on the beach, the candlelit dinners, the long, sweet kisses. He won't offer you that. He won't make time for it. And when you get sick of it—and you will, trust me—you'll leave him. And it will crush him. I don't want that."

"I won't leave. I love Blake."

The second the words are out of my mouth, I know they're true. I love Blake. I'm madly, crazy in love with him.

My stomach flip-flops.

I'm madly in love with him, and the best he'll ever be able to muster is I care about you.

My knees buckle.

Oh, God.

Talk about fucking things up.

I grab onto the counter to stay upright.

The bathroom door opens. Lizzy. Her face is the picture of concern. "Blake's mom collapsed."

Fiona goes white. "Is she okay?"

"They're calling an ambulance." Lizzy shakes. "We should— Kat? What do we do?"

Fiona rushes out of the bathroom.

I take a deep breath. "We follow the ambulance."

Chapter 31

The E.R. is an awful place. The air is stale. The tile is squeaky. The light is blindingly bright.

Fiona paces back and forth.

Lizzy sinks into the scratchy grey chair.

Blake leans against the wall, his eyes on his shiny leather shoes.

I press my palms into my thighs. What can I say? Meryl is dying. That isn't news. But now it isn't something far off in the future either.

Blake moves towards me. He kneels in front of me and looks up at me. His palm presses against my cheek.

He rubs my temple with his thumb.

"It will be okay." His voice is steady. Reassuring.

I believe him, even though it isn't true. It won't be okay.

She's going to die.

She's going to die believing this bullshit.

He wraps his arms around me.

I slide off the seat and sink into his touch. It's so strange, Blake on the E.R. floor in his thousand-dollar suit. Bringing himself to my level. Comforting me.

He does comfort me.

He does everything to me.

We sit like that forever.

Eventually, Lizzy stands. "I'm going to get a soda. You want anything?"

Yes, but nothing out of a vending machine. I shake my head.

"Come with me anyway." She offers her hand and shoots me a we need to talk look.

I take it. I let her pull me up and lead me away from Blake. Into a quiet hallway. One away from the sounds of emergencies and screaming patients.

Lizzy finds a vending machine in the corner and digs a dollar out of her purse. "You okay?"

I shake my head. "It feels like last time. Not as bad, but the same kinda thing. I lost almost everything that day."

My sister hugs me. "I don't want to fight. You're my best friend. Always. And whatever happens with Blake, I support you. Okay?"

"Okay."

"I love you."

"Love you too." I hug her tightly. "I'm going to miss you so much."

"You can visit anytime."

"I will." I release Lizzy and turn my attention to the vending machine. I'm not big on soda. Too sweet. And I don't need the caffeine. I'm wide awake as is. "You should go home. You have school."

"It's Saturday."

"Still," I say. "Go home. Sleep. Study. I might be here a while.

"

Her brow furrows. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

"Tell you what—I'll stay another ten minutes. If you still want me to leave, I will."

I nod. It's nice having Lizzy around. Comforting.

We move back to the E.R. A doctor is talking to Blake and Fiona.

He holds strong.

She trembles.

Whatever he says must be good, because Fiona is sighing with relief.

We move closer, so we can hear their conversation.

"She's okay." Fiona nearly smiles. "She's okay."

The doctor nods. "She's sedated. You can visit in the morning."

He leans in and whispers something.

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