Chapter 1

Instead of replying to Gina Sullivan, I, Ian Jefferson, called my mom first.

She answered in a hushed voice.

"Ian, are you working overtime?"

Holding my phone, I looked at the acknowledgments page still open on my computer.

"I just got off work. Mom, did you see Gina today?"

"Yes."

I could tell she was smiling from the way she responded.

"Gina stopped by this afternoon. She brought me a red silk scarf and even gave me a speech to prepare."

She paused, suddenly sounding a little self-conscious.

"Ian, do you think it'd be too flashy if I wore that dress the day after tomorrow?

"I even went to the salon downstairs today and dyed my gray hair.

"Gina said the Fletcher family has a lot of etiquette to observe. I'm worried that if I'm dressed too casually, I'll embarrass her."

Listening to how carefully she chose every word, my throat went dry.

"What's in the speech she gave you?"

Mom cleared her throat.

"Here's the first line. Although I'm not Gina's biological mother, I've always treated her like my own daughter."

After reading it aloud, she chuckled in embarrassment.

"I practiced it three times this afternoon in front of the mirror with my reading glasses on. It wasn't easy for that child to earn her doctorate. Now, she's even getting married.

"She said she doesn't have any family of her own. I just want to be there for her so she won't have to feel alone."

I closed my eyes and deleted Gina's voice message from my phone.

"Mom, get some rest. I'll be home soon."

When I pushed open the front door, the living room light was still on.

A velvet box lay on the coffee table, and its lid was half open.

I walked over and saw a boutonniere inside.

Beneath it lay the wedding day schedule at the hotel.

I saw Mom's name printed on it.

[The bride's mother, Susan Jefferson]

Attached to the back of the boutonniere was a small label.

Five words were written clearly across it.

[The bride's brother, Ian Jefferson]

Mom came out of the kitchen with a glass of water. When she saw me staring at the boutonniere, she said, "Gina brought this over this afternoon. She said the Fletcher family has many traditions, and she didn't want anyone thinking there was no one from the bride's side to support her. Ian, did you and Gina fight?"

I looked up at Mom's newly dyed hair.

"Mom, did you know she's already legally married?"

She froze.

"Legally married? To whom?"

She stared at me in confusion.

"Gina told me this afternoon that this was a special wedding arrangement. She said the two of you had already discussed it."

Suppressing the anger inside me, I placed the boutonniere back into the box.

"It's nothing. We did discuss it."

I couldn't tell Mom the truth right now.

Her blood pressure had never been stable, and she wouldn't be able to handle a shock like this.

My phone vibrated in my pocket. The group chat had exploded with new messages.

Zac Johansen sent the hotel location along with the rehearsal schedule.

[Wedding rehearsal tomorrow at 10:00 a.m. sharp.]

Katie Lester sent a voice message.

"Ian, try not to look unhappy tomorrow. Mrs. Jefferson isn't getting any younger. You wouldn't want the Fletcher family laughing at her, right?"

Zac immediately piled on.

[Exactly. Ian, you're the perfect choice to play the bride's brother.]

[After seven years together, you're basically family anyway.]

[Nowadays, being family lasts longer than being someone's boyfriend.]

I stared at the messages without replying.

That was when Gina called.

"Ian, did you see the messages in the group chat?"

"I did."

"Then why aren't you responding? Mrs. Jefferson has already agreed. If you back out now, it'll make me look terrible. The Fletcher family's relatives are all coming to watch the rehearsal tomorrow. Please don't throw a tantrum at a time like this."

I looked at the speech on the coffee table that was covered with Mom's handwritten notes.

Every mark in red ink had been made with sincere affection.

"I'm not throwing a tantrum."

I spoke calmly into the phone.

"What time tomorrow?"

I heard her sigh in relief.

"Ten o'clock. Don't be late."

"Okay."