“You say she loves me, she’s crying over me, and yet she’s marrying him?” he asked, completely unconvinced of anything she had just said.

“I know what you’re thinking, but—”

“Oh, do you? Because I’m not even sure I know what the fuck I’m thinking right now,” he said, rising to his feet. Beer wasn’t doing its job at this point. Stronger. He needed something stronger. Stalking into the kitchen, he swung the cabinet door open, pulling out a bottle of bourbon and a shot glass.

Olivia stood up, crossing her arms. “Are you going to let me finish what I was saying, dick?”

“I’m a cheater and a dick now? Sure, why the fuck not?” he replied, his tone thick with sarcasm. He promptly filled the shot glass. After tossing it back, he smacked his lips together and looked at her. “What kind of shit are you handing me, Olivia? None of it makes any sense. Not one fucking iota of it does.”

Moving to the kitchen, Olivia flipped her golden hair to the side and looked at Gavin as if he had ten heads. “What part don’t you understand, Blake?”

Now he returned the same look, but she continued.

“Dillon was a safe bet when she moved out here with him. She stumbled upon you, and as much as she tried to fight it, the girl never stood a chance against you, Gavin. Forget about the way you two met.” Pausing, a light laugh escaped her lips. “You had her from the moment she saw you. Believe me, I had to hear all about Mr. Tall, Dark, and Fuckable Handsome.”

Gavin couldn’t help it, but he drew up a curious brow at that statement.

“After everything she went through with Dillon, you then became her safe bet. But now, that’s been ripped from her. Unfortunately, you have her thinking Dillon is indeed the safer bet.”

“Stop saying safer bet,” he grunted as he poured another shot, still intrigued by the nickname he never knew about.

Olivia let out a sigh and rolled her eyes.

“So let me get this straight,” he leaned against the counter, a lopsided smirk on his face. “She’s taking the consolation prize that happens to be the prick that really cheated on her?” He then paused and let out a chuckle. Though his pain remained, the effect of the alcohol was quickly catching up to him. “Wait. Apparently, I’m the prick that cheated on her.”

“Consolation prize?” she asked, her brows furrowed. “Is this a game to you, Gavin? She’s hurting right now.”

“Fuck no, it’s not a game. It’s my fucking life, and it’s what should’ve been mine and Emily’s life together.” He chucked another shot down his throat, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and slammed the glass on the counter. “I’m hurting, too, but let me guess, you still think I fucked around behind her back. Go ahead. Tell me you don’t believe me either.”

“To tell you the truth, buddy, when I first got here, no, I didn’t believe you,” she answered, looking to her watch. She brought her eyes back to him. “But now I do.”

“Oh, do you?” He smirked, almost laughing. “And why do you believe me all of a sudden, oh mighty queen, Olivia?”

She stared at him for a long moment and then moved across the room to grab her purse, coat, and scarf. She made her way over to the door and turned back to look at him. “Because even when you were at your worst after Gina,” she whispered, her expression pained, “you weren’t as…fucked and tortured-looking as you appear to be right now.”

Swaying slightly, that smirk dropped from his face as he peered at her.

“I love you both. You’re my second brother, and she’s the sister I never had.” She let out a deep breath. “And it’s killing me to see the two of you hurting the way that you are.”

Tossing his hands through his hair, he perched himself on a barstool. “What do I do?” he asked, his voice low and his heart sinking lower. “For the first time in my life…” He hesitated and looked down to the ground. He then slowly brought his gaze back to hers. “God, for the first time in my life, Olivia…I don’t know what to do. She doesn’t believe me.”

Although he couldn’t see it from across the room, Olivia’s eyes glassed over. Looking back down to her watch, a timid smile crept over her mouth. “Then make her believe you, Gavin. You have less than twenty-four hours to change the course of both of your lives.” She slung her purse over her shoulder and opened the door. “I hope I see you there,” she said, stepping out into the hallway. Gavin watched as she poked her head back in. “Oh, and if you do decide to go get our girl, do yourself a favor and shave. You’re definitely a cutie, honestly, but I’m not digging the whole five o’clock shadow thing you got going on right now.”

Gavin let out a deep sigh. “Anything else?”

“Yeah, as a matter of fact, there is,” she replied, tapping her finger against her cheek. “Drop the whole jeans and sweatshirt thing you got going on, too. Love ya, my brother.”

Gavin shook his head and watched as she closed the door behind her.

Time.

Tonight, time wasn’t on his or Emily’s side. Staring at the clock on the wall once again, Gavin sat there for a few minutes. His mind was literally rocked from the conversation. He sat there for a few more minutes, trying—and failing—to make sense of everything spinning through his head. Though his unease of never being with Emily ever again grew, gnawing at his stomach, the thought of showing up, only to get turned down again, made him know that the decision he was about to make was for the better. There was no denying that he needed her. He needed her like the veins in his body needed blood and his lungs needed air. However, this time around, Gavin would rather suffocate than have to look Emily in the eyes and hear those venomous words again. No. He wouldn’t go tonight.

And, just like that, Gavin knew he’d changed the course of his and Emily’s lives forever.

Teetering. Though a few weeks had gone by, Emily was teetering a fine line between sanity and madness. She felt as though she was made of glass, and a small hammer—held in the hand of each man—was chipping away at her. She was sure that at any second she would shatter into a million jagged pieces. The larger pieces—representing Dillon—cut into her flesh. The smaller slivers—Gavin—stuck under her skin. Either way, both were slicing into her heart, leaving her a bleeding corpse of the woman she once was. She felt like she was watching herself from a distance—no longer in control of her thoughts, no longer in control of the path she was walking. As she stared at her reflection in the mirror, she couldn’t deny there was a small sense of relief that had washed over her once she’d arrived at the church to see Gavin hadn’t shown up—yet, her ache for him remained. A part of her knew she was being elusive. She was trying to fuse back together what’d been broken between her and Dillon, knowing a huge amount of their relationship had crystallized into dust. Still, she needed something to hold on to—and that something was a tiny glimmer of hope that she could bring her feelings for Dillon back to where they used to be.

She needed to fall back in love with him.

However, she had become a very good liar herself lately, playing into her own game of staunch resistance to the obvious. She now felt like the master of trickery because she knew that she was trying to delude herself into thinking that she’d be able to forget Gavin. Forget every stolen glance they had shared, every accidental brush of their flesh, and every moment they experienced together—right down to the second she knew she loved him. The force of will and string of lies she was trying to convince herself of would never be enough to keep her heart from splitting along the scars and stitches of the mess that was left. So tonight—as she stood staring back at the hollow shell of the woman she had now become—she wondered how far the delusion would get her into her marriage, wondered how long Gavin would haunt her every waking thought, and wondered how long she could fool herself.