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“I don’t know what to do.” Stella steeples her hands beneath her chin. “I wish I could have tonight to think on it, but we have the rehearsal and the rehearsal dinner.”
“We should cancel them,” Claire suggests.
“What?” Owen says. “No. We spent a shitload of money on that dinner.”
“Say Owen is sick,” Claire continues, ignoring Owen. “Don’t say it’s you because then your mom will worry. Or we can just say he’s sick and do the rehearsal dinner without him, would that help at all? Just to not have to look at his lying, cheating face?”
“You can’t do the rehearsal dinner without the groom,” Owen says, looking at me for support.
He’s not getting shit from me.
“I don’t know,” Stella says. “Maybe? I just don’t want Owen pressuring me.”
“If everyone thinks I’m sick, won’t they wonder if I’ll be too sick for the wedding?” Owen asks.
“Ohh.” Claire’s face lights. “I’ve got an idea. Ben can do it.”
“Do what?” Stella asks.
Claire’s wheels are fully in motion now. She looks from Stella to me. “Owen will stay in his room tonight. But we’ll tell everyone it’s Ben who isn’t feeling well and is staying in his room. And Ben will pretend to be Owen, because identical twins and all.”
I’ll...what? Pretend it’s me marrying Stella?
“Ben?” Stella locks eyes with me, disbelief in her tone.
“That way, you get a break from...well, Voldemort, and if you wisely decide not to go through with the wedding tomorrow, your mom still has the nice memories of the dinner. We’ll have to go get Ben’s hair cut, like...right now, but we can do this.”
What the fuck? Owen and I haven’t tried to switch places since eighth grade, when I took a math test he didn’t study for. I got cornholed because there was a pop quiz in my social studies class that hour and he failed it.
And this? Pretending to be the one Stella’s marrying? It’s not a good idea. It’s a terrible idea. I absolutely can’t do it. I won’t.
Stella gives me a hopeful look. “I mean, it’s not the worst idea. Would you be willing?”
My answer is immediate.
“Of course.”
Chapter Three
Stella
* * *
Jack Hogan is fifty-two years old and two inches shorter than his sons, but he still instills fear in Owen as he glares at him.
“Is this how we raised you?” His voice is ominously calm. “You are a disgrace.”
Alice Hogan is crying, Ben wrapping an arm around her. The rehearsal is scheduled to start in ten minutes and we’re doing damage control. We had no choice but to be honest with their parents—two of the only people who can tell Ben and Owen apart no matter what.
With his new haircut, Ben looks strikingly like Owen. I’ve always been able to tell them apart from their mannerisms. Owen is always smiling. Ben is more intense. They know each other well, though, and when they want to play the part of the other, they can fool most anyone.
“Guys, get it together,” Ben says. “We have to lock up the feelings for another time. We’re doing this for Joan, and for Stella.”
Jack’s shoulders sink and he looks at me. “Stella, I...”
Ben and Owen’s father was always larger than life to me. A massive, broad-shouldered man, he would play street hockey and football with the neighborhood kids until it was too dark to see in the summer. And when our elderly neighbors’ driveways needed shoveling in the winter, it was always Jack and his boys out early in the morning doing it. He’s always been so proud of his sons, and it makes my heart ache to see him like this, too emotional to continue talking.
Alice wipes the corners of her eyes with a tissue. “Ben is right, Jack. If Stella wants this for Joan, we’ll gladly do it.”
Ben looks at his wristwatch, a pricy-looking Rolex. “We need to get going.”
“Hey,” I say softly, pointing at the watch.
He looks at it again. “Oh. Shit.”
As he takes it off and slips it into his pocket, I take a few deep breaths. Ben, Owen and I asked Jack and Alice to meet us in Ben’s room, where Owen will be sequestered tonight. I can’t even look at Owen or think about what’s happened in the past hour and a half or I’ll break.
I’m entirely focused on making it through this evening. I’ll have my dearest friends by my side, including Ben.
“Stel, I’m so sorry,” Owen says. “Please don’t do this.”
“You’re only sorry you got caught.” I still can’t look at him.
I’m the first one out the door, Ben right behind me.
“You okay?” he asks as we walk toward the elevator.
“Yeah.”
“So I got his car keys, are we taking your mom or anything?”
“No, my brother and Val are bringing her.”
Jack and Alice step onto the elevator with us, both of them still looking shell-shocked.
