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LAUREN
That evening, when I see Mason in front of the nursing home, my stomach does a little backflip. Annoying how that keeps happening. I tamp down those flutters. Mason said he needed to talk to me about Gran. I’ve been freaking out all the way here, holding the steering wheel in a death grip. Don’t use that word, Lauren. Not death.
Mason must notice me as he stands to attention and rushes toward me, taking both my hands.
No, this can’t be happening. By the worry lines on his face, it is happening. It can’t be.
“Gran’s not dying,” Mason says flatly.
I gasp and touch my throat. “Come again?”
“Dad got it all wrong.” Mason shoves a hand in one pocket. “He only went by what Gran told him. She believes she’s dying, but it’s all in her head. Not reality.”
I palm my cheeks. “Wow.” I lower my arms to my side. “Great news? Why do you look defeated?”
Mason scuffs his shoe at the loose stones of the parking lot. He lets out a breath and rubs the back of his neck. “It’s amazing news. I’m relieved how Gran will be around for”—he lifts a shoulder—"years to come, I hope.”
I lean my weight to one foot. “And—?”
“I guess we don’t need to go ahead with the—” Mason’s lips fold inward. “Ah—the show.”
I dip my head and peer up at him. “You don’t want to marry me anymore?”
Mason grimaces. “Is that a trick question?”
I frantically wave my hands. “I mean, we’re canceling the fake wedding?”
He lifts both palms. “There’s no need for it. Gran’s not on her death bed. I'll tell her things didn’t work out between us, and she’ll get over it in time. It’s not like before. I was worried she’d take a bad turn at the news.”
I hug myself. “Oh. But I looked forward to getting all dressed up and . . . the theater … it’s such a beautiful place for a . . .” Why are my eyelids burning? It wasn’t a real wedding, you loser.
Mason steps forward and slides his hand up and down my arm. “You’ve put so much effort into our plans. I appreciate how far you were willing to go for Gran.”
I look at his hand and into his eyes. He’s sincere and every bit the gentleman I know him to be. He’s the sweetest, most—stop it. It’s over. The fairy tale is over, and I won’t marry Mason for real. I know I’d be unhappy. Lonely.
Mason steps back. “Why don’t we keep the theater reservation and celebrate Gran’s health.” He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. He’s faking enthusiasm.
“Sure.” I clasp my hands in front of me. I’m acting ridiculous. It’s terrific news. Gran is healthy. I’m being selfish. “Yes. Perfect. I’ll keep my wedding dress for another day.” I tilt my head, and I’m sure my smile must look like a deranged, obsessed ex-lover planning revenge.
Mason takes another step back and swings his arms behind him. “Yep. You do that. Save it for the real deal. You’ll look amazing, Lauren. Stunning.”
My shoulders slump. I can never stay angry at Mason for long. He’s too nice. Too romantic. Ridiculously attractive.
“Okay.” I fake joy and happiness in my tone. “Slight change of plans. Different dress. New occasion.” I offer a genuine grin. “You’re still paying, right?”
He narrows his eyes. “Yes. Why?”
I lift my chin. “Just confirming. We can expand the invitation list since it’s not a big secret anymore. Not a fake wedding, but a real celebration of Gran’s life. Her good health.”
“Sure. We should go all out and celebrate while she’s here and can enjoy friends and family around her.”
That’s right. Mason didn’t care about spending money. He’s wise with his investments but doesn’t hold back when it comes to his loved ones. Well, he did with me when we were—
Mason’s phone rings. “Can I get this?”
I wave a hand. “Sure.” Not like they were in the middle of some profound moment, anyway. His phone constantly interrupted us in the past. Funny how it hadn’t happened much lately. Maybe he silences it for Gran’s sake. Why couldn’t he prioritize when we were engaged?
MASON
