I parked the car in the garage and we walked across the bridge and the greater part of Bay Island, where we lived, still in silence. My house loomed up ahead, with only a few lights on and just the garden lamps outside to illuminate our way. The Back Bay water lapped on the beach around us.

Emilia cleared her throat and hesitated on the front porch, but I ignored her. My mind was already racing ahead. What would come next? My mental flowchart hadn’t accounted for this. This rejection. This silence.

“Adam,” she said, as I pressed my thumb to the biometric lock on the front door.

“We can talk later. Now isn’t the time.”

“But—”

“Go inside and turn on the light,” I said between clenched teeth.

And she did. I hung back on the porch for a moment, taking a deep breath. The light came on to loud shouts of “SURPRISE!”

Emilia backed into me, obviously terrified before putting her hands to her face. I couldn’t tell whether she was laughing or crying. To be honest, at that moment, I didn’t care.

In the huge entry hall to my home, people swarmed around—dozens of them. What the hell? This was supposed to be a small gathering for drinks and congratulations. A banner was spread across the back wall, complete with pictures of champagne glasses and confetti.

Loud music came up on the sound system and a crowd of people surrounded Emilia, asking her if she was surprised. She sent some furtive glances my way and faked a smile, but I could tell that she was nervous, possibly annoyed.

And I had no desire whatsoever to stand next to her.

Someone shoved glasses of champagne into our hands. There was confetti everywhere—on the floor, in our hair. Some of it had even been flipped down Emilia’s dress, sticking to the dampness on her cleavage. That was when I noticed that she was sweating. Her entire face glowed with it. She was flushed and nervous and perspiring like it was a hundred degrees out.

Almost in unison, we downed our glasses of champagne in a single gulp. I felt a clap on my shoulder and turned toward Heath. “Everything okay?” he muttered.

I shook my head and turned from him. I was not in the mood for an “I told you so.”

I threw another glance around the room, cataloging the attendees. Emilia’s mom, Kim, stood beside my Uncle Peter. My cousin Liam lurked toward the back of the crowd, his hands cupped over his ears in irritation. He absolutely hated things like this, especially when it involved loud music. Liam’s sister, Britt, and her husband Rik had gotten a babysitter to watch the boys. And of course, there were Alex and Jenna along with various other friends.

There were the repeated questions of “Were you surprised?” and Emilia claiming she had “No idea!” She giggled in a high-pitched panicky sort of way—the way that meant she clearly was not amused, but was trying to put on a brave face.

I tried to keep the scowl off mine, but it wasn’t working. From across the room, Peter frowned at me, mouthing, “What’s wrong?” Instead of acknowledging him, I looked away.

Then, it happened. After all the excitement of the initial surprise calmed down, Alex made a beeline for Emilia in her usual frenetic way. Her hands waved through the air, shouting at the top of her lungs, “Let me see your hand, Mia!”

Emilia froze. I shifted but I wasn’t fast enough. Alex already had Emilia’s left hand in hers, frowning in confusion that the ring was clearly not there. Goddamn it. Who had told her?

Only two people knew: Heath and Kim. I looked at Emilia’s mother but her attention was focused solely on her daughter, her forehead puckered in confusion. The entire group around us went silent and they were all staring.

Emilia shot me a look of pure terror, her eyes wide, and I stepped up to her side, gently pulling her hand out of Alex’s. I towed Emilia away from her gap-jawed friend and into the crowd around us, moving like I had a ton of bricks tied to each foot.

“I believe a toast to our future doctor is in order. Let’s get her some more champagne!” And spike mine with vodka, please. Goddamn it. Goddamn it all to hell. This night needed to be over. As soon as fucking possible.

Christ, just get me through this night. I hated this shit under ordinary circumstances. I never had more than a few people over at once. It was all I could tolerate. But Kim and Heath had planned this and I’d let them do whatever they wanted. I was too busy worrying about the marriage proposal to pay any attention to the guest list. At least there was no one from work—aside from Liam and Jordan—to witness my moment of humiliation.

The party fizzled out quickly. Which mostly had to do with Emilia excusing herself and disappearing for almost an hour. She spent a lot of that time talking to Heath and I was stuck trying to see to guests. Fortunately Kim was perceptive, knew that something was wrong and helped diffuse the dud of a party before it could build on itself.