And there was Taylor, pretending to be interested as my dad went on about a lobster’s nervous system. Sitting next to Anika, who actually did look interested. Next to Anika was my brother, who was rolling his eyes.

Conrad sat at the far end of the table, with Jere’s friends. I made a conscious effort not to look in his direction, to just keep focused on my plate, on Jeremiah next to me. I didn’t have to bother, because Conrad wasn’t looking at me either. He was talking to the guys, to Steven, to my mother. To everyone but me. This is what you wanted, I reminded myself. You told him to leave you alone. You asked for this.

You can’t have it both ways.

“Are you okay?” Jeremiah whispered.

I lifted my head and smiled at him. “Yeah! Of course.

I’m just full.”

Jeremiah took one of my fries and said, “Save room for dessert.”

I nodded. Then he leaned over and kissed me, and I kissed him back. After, I saw his eyes flicker over to the end of the table, so quick I could have imagined it.

Chapter Fifty-one

Conrad

I felt like I was going out of my mind that night. Sitting there at the table with everyone, cheersing when my dad made a toast, trying not to watch when Jere kissed her in front of all of us.

After dinner was over, Jere and Belly and all their friends went to the boardwalk for ice cream. My dad and Belly’s dad went to their hotel. It was just Laur and me back at the house. I was on my way up to my room, but Laurel stopped me and said, “Hey, let’s have a beer, Connie. I think we deserve it, don’t you?”

We sat at the kitchen table with our beers. She clinked my bottle and said, “To … what should we toast to?”

“What else? To the happy couple.”

Without looking at me, Laurel said, “How are you doing?”

“Good,” I said. “Great.”

“Come on. This is your Laura you’re talking to. Tell me. How are you feeling?”

“Honestly?” I swigged my beer. “It’s pretty much killing me.”

Laurel looked back at me, her face tender. “I’m sorry.

I know you love her a lot, kid. This must be really hard on you.”

I could feel my throat starting to close up. I tried to clear it, unsuccessfully. I could feel it coming up in my chest, behind my eyes. I was going to cry in front of her.

It was the way she said it, it was like my mom was right there, knowing without me having to tell her.

Laurel took my hand and clasped it in hers. I tried to pull it away, but she held on tighter. “We’ll get through it tomorrow, I promise. It’ll be you and me, kid.” Squeezing my hand, she said, “God, I miss your mom.”

“Me too.”

“We really need her right now, don’t we?”

I bowed my head and started to cry.

Chapter Fifty-two

I wanted to sleep in Jeremiah’s room that night, but when I started to follow him upstairs, Taylor wagged her finger at me. “Uh-uh. It’s bad luck.”

So I’d gone to my room, and he’d gone to his.

It was too hot. I couldn’t sleep. I’d kick the covers off and flip my pillow over to cool off, but it didn’t help. I kept looking at the alarm clock. One o’clock, two o’clock.

When I couldn’t stand it anymore, I threw off my sheets and put on my bathing suit. I didn’t turn on any lights, I just found my way downstairs in the darkness.

The moonlight was enough to guide me. Everyone else was asleep.

I made my way outside, down to the pool. I dove in, held my breath for as long as I could. I could already feel my bones start to relax. When I came back up for air, I floated on my back and looked up at the sky. The stars were out. I loved how quiet it was, how still. The only thing I could hear was the ocean lapping against the sand.

Tomorrow I would become Isabel Fisher. It was what I always wanted, my girlhood dream come true a thousand times over. And I’d wrecked it. Or rather, I was about to wreck it. I had to tell the truth. I couldn’t marry Jeremiah tomorrow like this, not with a secret that big between us.

I climbed out of the pool, put the towel around me, and went inside the house, up to Jeremiah’s room. He was asleep, but I shook him awake. “I need to talk to you,” I said.

Water from my hair dripped onto his pillow, onto his face.

Groggily, he said, “Isn’t it bad luck?”

“I don’t care.”

Jeremiah sat up, wiping his cheeks. “What’s up?”

“Let’s talk outside,” I said.

We went down to the porch and sat on a lounge chair.

Without preamble, I said, quietly, “Last night Conrad told me he still has feelings for me.”

I could feel Jeremiah’s body go rigid beside me. I waited for him to speak, and when he didn’t, I went on.

“Of course I told him I didn’t feel the same way. I wanted to tell you sooner, but then I thought it would be a mistake, that I should keep it to myself—”

“I’m going to kill him,” he said, and hearing those words coming out of his mouth shocked me. He stood up.

I tried to pull him back down next to me, but he resisted. I pleaded, “Jere, no. Don’t. Please just sit here and talk to me.”

“Why are you protecting him?”

“I’m—I’m not. I’m not.”

He looked down at me. “Are you marrying me to erase him?”

“No,” I said, and it came out more like a gasp. “No.”

“The thing is, Bells, I don’t believe you,” Jeremiah said, and his voice was strangely flat. “I see the way you look at him. I don’t think you’ve ever looked at me like that.

Not even once.”

I jumped up and grabbed at his hands desperately, but he pulled away. I was breathing hard when I said, “That’s not true, Jere. It’s not true at all. What I feel for him is all memories. That’s it. It has nothing to do with us. All that’s in the past. Can’t we just forget the past and make our own future? Just the two of us?”

Levelly, he said, “Is it the past? I know you saw him over Christmas. I know you guys were together here.”

I opened my mouth, but no words came out.

“Say something. Go ahead, try to deny it.”

“Nothing happened between us, Jere. I promise you. I didn’t even know he was gonna be here. The only reason I didn’t tell you was—” What was it? Why didn’t I tell 256 · jenny han

him? Why couldn’t I think of a reason? “I didn’t want you to be upset over nothing.”

“If it was nothing, you would have told me about it.

Instead you kept it a secret. After all that stuff you said to me about trust, you kept that to yourself. I felt like shit for what I did with Lacie, and you and I weren’t even together when it happened.”

I felt sick inside. “How long have you known?”

“Does it matter?” he snapped.

“Yes, to me it does.”

Jeremiah started to back away from me. “I’ve known since it happened. Conrad mentioned he saw you, he thought I already knew. So of course I had to play it off like I did. Do you know how stupid I felt?”

“I can imagine,” I whisper.

“Why didn’t you say something?” I asked him. We were standing only five or six feet away from each other, but it felt like miles. It was his eyes. They were so distant.

“I was waiting for you to tell me. And you never did.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I should have told you. I was wrong.” It was stupid. My heart was beating so fast. “I love you. We’re getting married tomorrow. Me and you, right?”

When he didn’t answer me, I asked again. “Aren’t we?”

“I’ve got to get out of here,” he said at last. “I need to think.”

“Can I come with you?”

This time the answer came swiftly, and it was devastat-ing. “No,” he said.

He left, and I didn’t try to follow him. I just sank onto the steps. I couldn’t feel my legs. I couldn’t feel my body.

Was this happening? Was this real? It didn’t feel real.

Chapter Fifty-three

Somewhere outside, a goldfinch was singing. Or maybe it was a song sparrow. My dad had tried to teach me the different kinds of bird songs, but I couldn’t quite remember.

The sky was gray. It wasn’t raining yet. But any minute now, it was going to pour. It was like any other morning in Cousins Beach. Except it wasn’t, because I was getting married.

I was reasonably sure I was getting married. The only thing was, I had no idea where Jeremiah had gone or if he was even coming back.

I was sitting at the vanity mirror in my pink bathrobe, trying to curl my hair. Taylor was at the beauty salon, and she’d tried to persuade me to get mine done there too, but I’d said no. The only time I ever got my hair done, I hated the way it looked. Like a beauty pageant contestant, stiff and high. I didn’t look like me. I thought that today of all days, I should look like me.

There was a knock at the door.

“Come in,” I said, trying to fix a curl that had already gone limp.

The door opened. It was my mother. She was already dressed. She was wearing a suit jacket and linen pants and was carrying a lemon yellow envelope. I recognized it right away: Susannah’s personal stationery. It was so like her. I wished I was worthy of it. It hurt to think that I had let her down like this. What would she say if she knew?

My mother closed the door behind her. “Do you want me to help?” she asked.

I handed her the curling iron. She set down the letter on my dresser. She stood behind me, sectioning my hair off into thirds. “Did Taylor do your makeup? It looks nice.”

“Yeah, she did. Thanks. You look really nice too.”

“I’m not ready for this,” she said.

I looked at her in the mirror, winding my hair around the barrel, her head down. My mother was beautiful to me in that moment.

She put her hands on my shoulders and looked at me in the mirror. “This isn’t what I wanted for you. But I’m here. This is your wedding day. My only daughter.”

I reached over my shoulder and took her hand. She squeezed my hand tight, so tight it hurt. I wanted to confide in her, to confess that things were a mess, that I didn’t even know where Jeremiah was or if I would be getting married after all. But it had taken her so long to get here, and if I raised one single doubt now, that would be more than enough for her to put an end to it. She would throw me over her shoulder and carry me away from this whole wedding.

So all that came out was, “Thank you, Mommy.”

“You’re welcome,” she said. She looked over toward my window. “Do you think the weather will hold?”

“I don’t know. I hope so.”

“Well, if worst comes to worst, we’ll move the wedding inside. No big shakes.” Then she handed me the letter. “Susannah wanted you to have this on your wedding day.”

My mother kissed me on the top of my head and walked out of the room.

I picked up the letter, ran my fingers along my name, written in Susannah’s smooth cursive. Then I put it back down on the dresser. Not yet.

There was a knock at the door. “Who is it?” I asked.

“Steven.”

“Come in.”

The door opened, and Steven came in, closing it behind him. He was wearing the white linen shirt and khaki shorts all the groomsmen were wearing. “Hey,” he said, sitting down on my bed. “Your hair looks nice.”

“Is he back?”

Steven hesitated.

“Just tell me, Steven.”

“No. He’s not back. Conrad went off to find him. He thinks he knows where Jere went.”

I let out a breath. I was relieved, but at the same time—what would Jeremiah do when he saw Conrad?

What if it only made things worse?

“He’s going to call as soon as he finds him.”

I nodded, then picked up the curling iron again.

My fingers trembled, and I had to steady my hand so I wouldn’t burn my cheek.

“Did you tell Mom anything?” Steven asked.

“No. I haven’t told anybody. So far there’s nothing to tell.” I wound a piece of hair around the barrel. “He’ll be here. I know he will.” And I mostly believed it.

“Yeah,” Steven said. “Yeah, I’m sure you’re right. Do you want me to stay with you?”

I shook my head. “I need to get ready.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. Just let me know as soon as you hear something.”

Steven stood up. “I will.” Then he came over and patted my shoulder awkwardly. “Everything’s going to work out, Belly.”

“Yup, I know it will. Don’t worry about me. Just find Jere.”

262 · jenny han

As soon as he was gone, I set the curling iron down again. My hand was shaking. I would probably burn myself if I didn’t give it a rest. My hair was curled enough anyway.

He was coming back. He was coming back. I knew he was.

And then, because there was nothing left to do, I put on my wedding dress.

I was sitting at the window, watching my dad string Christmas lights on the back porch, when Taylor burst into the room.

Her hair was in an updo, and it looked tight around her forehead. She was carrying a brown paper bag and an ice coffee. “Okay, so, I brought lunch, Anika’s helping your mom set the tables up, and this weather isn’t doing my hair any favors,” Taylor announced, all in one breath. “And I don’t know how to tell you this, but I’m pretty sure I felt a raindrop on the way inside.” Then she said, “Why are you already in your dress? There’s still loads of time before the wedding. Take it off. It’s going to get all wrinkly.”