But with her staring down at me, her hand shaking in mine—or is it mine shaking as I hold hers?—I allow myself a second to take her in.
I’ve snuck glances at her throughout the cocktail hour, because how could I not be caught staring at the most beautiful woman in the room, who is wearing a stunning blue ballgown that I bought her?
The color suits her. As does the confidence she exudes, different from how she was before but somehow even better.
From the jewelry I bought her to the dress she chose with me in mind, she looks likemine.
And her engagement ring will remind everyone of that.
Her breath stutters, and I chastise myself for leaving her hanging.
“I never expected us to be here tonight,” I say, my voicelight and teasing. “When we began this…relationship, I was skeptical, but for the first time since I started this campaign, I can’t help feeling a little hopeful.”
I drop her hand so I can grab the ring from the box. “I know this isn’t the proposal you dreamed of, but I hope the ring makes up for it.”
Her watery eyes follow my hand as I slide the ring past her first knuckle. “You’re supposed to ask if I’ll marry you.”
I shoot her a lopsided grin. “I don’t like asking questions I already know the answer to.”
Her polite smile hardly compares to the radiant ones I’ve grown used to, and I feel robbed as I finish pushing the ring up her finger.
A roar of applause breaks through the quiet, reminding me there is one last part to the show.
With unsteady legs, I stand to my full height and pull Lily into a kiss. Compared to our other ones, this time it’s different. I can feel her hesitating, almost as if she is holding back, which isn’t something I’m used to.
My suspicions are proven correct when she pulls away before I have a chance to deepen the kiss. She turns to face the crowd, who only saw her back throughout the proposal, and hits them with a stunning smile that never reaches her eyes.
Did you expect her to be happy about any of this?
No, of course not, but I didn’t think her reaction would affect me to this level.
I want to pull her aside and ask her what’s wrong, but Willow opens the doors. Another round of applause ensues, reminding us that the show must go on.
32
LILY
I’m running on autopilot as Lorenzo and I walk through the crowd forming around us, my cheeks hurting from how hard I am smiling. I’m overwhelmed by how enthusiastic everyone is, and after the tenth iteration of “Congratulations,” I’m ready to go home.
Lorenzo’s arm remains a steel band around my waist, and while I enjoy his possessive hold, I’m also uncomfortably aware it wouldn’t be there if not for the two hundred people surrounding us.
I’ve seen my mom have plenty of panic attacks over the course of my life, and I’ve had my fair share of anxious moments, but none of it compares to the way I feel right now.
I can’t force enough air into my lungs. I try to breathe—try to calm the rapid beat of my heart by countingeach inhale. When someone makes a joke, I laugh, but it comes out hollow.
The sound seems to gain Lorenzo’s attention, and he excuses us before carting me away toward the private room where Julian and Dahlia were waiting earlier.
Oh God. The reminder of my family hits me like a gut punch, and I reach for my stomach.
“Are you going to be sick?” Lorenzo asks, panic bleeding into his question.
“Maybe.” If not physically, then for sure mentally, because what did I agree to?
How did I end up being fake engaged to a guy I’m interested in, and how are we ever supposed to have a real chance at a relationship if half of it has been built on lies?
One second I’m bent over, and the next Lorenzo is lifting me into his arms and carrying me to the couch. I expect him to deposit me on it, but he takes a seat and cradles me in his arms. My thighs drape across his lap, and my dress poofs around us.
Being taken care of…being held in his arms like I matter…