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“Gravely,” I say, nodding multiple times, because I’m nothing if not supportive of Sebastian. “Probably should check into the hospital after this meeting.”

“Because of the throat interior equipment redistribution thing?” Ella’s eyes round. “Will you be able to do tonight’s date at the French restaurant in that high rise overlooking all of Boston? Because we’ve booked a private room with a view and—”

“I can do that,” I say.

“The oyster course?” Ella asks. “Because those things are rather...slurpy. And significantly larger than lemon pulp.”

“I’ll be fine,” I assure her.

Sebastian sighs. “And you’ll probably be fine for a seventy-minute drive to Ashcove.”

I bite my lip.

He’s right. If I can eat oysters, I can probably make the drive.

I nod reluctantly.

God, I didn’t mean for this to happen. Sebastian doesn’t want to go to Ashcove, and I want him to be happy. I inhale, but all the air has turned rancid, removed of everything good and replaced with worry.

Sebastian’s eyes turn sad and soft. “It’s okay.”

“Better than okay!” Ella exclaims. “It will be great. But I take your point about wanting to meet your future brides’ parents. We can have them flown up here. This will be the bestSeeking Mr. Right: Christmas Editionever!”

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Sebastian

It’s okay. I’m just going back to Ashcove. Where I haven’t been since I left. My fingers flutter.

I am Sebastian Archer, TV Host Extraordinaire. I am Sebastian Archer, TV Host—

“So, what do you think?” Ella asks with the sort of worry on her face that makes me think this isn’t the first time she’s asked me that question.

My mind is the same sludgy mess that Bryce and his friends once threw me into.

“Um...”

“About Willow’s and Flora’s family coming,” Luke says.

“Why would—” I scrunch my forehead together.

Families aren’t normally flown to the Mr. Right location.

“So I can evaluate my future in-laws,” Luke says, and his voice cracks, and he stares at his fingers.

“Oh.” I draw back. Frigid air blasts through the room. I’m not sure why Oskar said it was warm before. Maybe being born in Sweden wrecks someone’s internal thermometer or something. “Yeah...Whatever?”

“Maybe that cold is contagious,” Ella says, darting her gaze at Oskar.

I swallow hard. I’m normally articulate. Super articulate.

“You know, I would love it if I could speak to Sebastian in private,” Luke says in that formal voice he does sometimes as if he’s pretending to be a weatherman or something.

“That’s not necessary,” I say quickly.

Because they can’t be suspicious. They absolutely can’t be suspicious. Bryce is going to think it sufficiently hysterical that I’m there.

Luke’s eyes soften. “I just mean, I have some more thoughts on...”