“That’s up to you,” Tyson says.

“I think it’s better to have an exact plan,” Lainey says. “Or else you might not go through with it.”

“Oh, she’ll go through with it,” Tyson says. “She has to.”

He gives me a stern but compassionate look just as my phone buzzes and a text comes in from Grady, telling me that we have a reservation for seven o’clock at Le Bilboquet.

OK, I text back. But do you think you could change it to four people? Tyson just arrived.

Tyson? he says.

He’s annoyed. He’s always been jealous of my friendship with Tyson. It has stressed me out in the past, but now I relish it.

Yes, I type back. Such a wonderful surprise, isn’t it?

—

I don’t think I’ve ever been as nervous as I am getting out of our Uber at the valet stand in front of the restaurant. It doesn’t help that I feel way overdressed. When we check in with the hostess ten minutes ahead of our reservation, I tell myself that it’s better than looking as wan and sad as I feel.

She asks if we’d like to be seated before the last member of our party arrives.

“Yes. Absolutely,” Lainey replies.

On the way to our table, I see two people I know, including one of Grady’s co-workers. I smile and say hello but obviously don’t stop to chat, reminding myself that whatever happens tonight, we cannot make a scene. When we get to our table, Lainey whispers instructions. Grady goes in the corner. You sit across from him. We’ll flank you.

I nod, taking my assigned seat, my back to the main dining area, as one of the waitstaff arrives at our table, asking if we prefer still or sparkling water.

“Tap water is fine,” I quickly say, feeling queasy and sweaty.

“And two bottles of Perrier, please,” Lainey says.

The second my glass is filled, I down it, then whisper that I might throw up.

“No, you won’t,” Lainey says, shaking her head. “Just breathe and smile.”

“She doesn’t have to smile,” Tyson says.

“It’ll help relax her. It’s a thing. It signals to the brain that everything is okay,” Lainey says.

“Everything isn’t okay,” I say, feeling myself start to panic.

“Do you want to leave?” Tyson asks me. “We can still bail—”

“We can’t bail,” Lainey says, her eyes darting over to the entrance. “We’re on a mission.”

“It’s her decision,” Tyson says.

“Too late,” Lainey says, glancing over at the door. “He’s here.”

“Oh, shit,” I say under my breath, my mind going blank. “I forget what I’m supposed to say!”

“Say whatever you want,” Tyson says, his voice low and reassuring. “If you want to tell him to fuck off the second you see him, do that. Otherwise, just follow our lead.”

I nod and look at Lainey, watching her flip a switch and begin performing. She gets to her feet, turns on her biggest smile, and waves across the room at Grady.

A second later, he is standing beside me. I want to die.

“The groom has arrived!” Lainey says, kissing one of his cheeks, then the other. “Congratulations once again.”

“Thank you so much!” Grady says as I feel the warm weight of his hand on my shoulder. “Hi, sweetheart.”

I say hello without looking up, my heart in my throat.

He gives my shoulder a little rub, then reaches across me to bump fists with Tyson. “Hey, man! Good to see you! It’s been a minute!”

“Yeah, it has,” Tyson says with a tight smile as Grady circles the table and takes his seat. He looks as handsome as ever in a navy sport coat and a light blue button-down.

I force myself to make eye contact with him.

He smiles, then says, “You look gorgeous. Love the dress.”

“Thank you.”

“And I love your hair like that,” he says.

“Thanks,” I say again. “Lainey curled it.”

“Well, she did a great job,” he says, grinning at me like we’re the only two people at the table.

I search his face for any sign of guilt or regret or remorse. But there isn’t a trace. He is as confident and relaxed as ever.

“So. How was your day?” Grady asks, glancing around the table. “Did y’all do any wedding planning?”

I look at Lainey, unable to answer. She clears her throat and says, “We made a few decisions, yes.”

Grady smiles and nods. “Such as?”

“That’s top secret!” Lainey says with a wink as our server arrives to give us her welcome spiel, then ask if we’d like a cocktail.

“Tyson?” Lainey says, giving him a knowing look. “Didn’t you want to order some wine?”

“Yeah. Sure. What does everyone like? Red? White?” Tyson asks, scanning the wine list.

“I prefer red,” Grady says. “But white’s fine, too. I trust you, man!”

“Trust is very important!” Lainey says, nodding effusively.

I give her a look to tone it down.