Page 29 of The Substitute Fiancée

And immediately, I understand that Emelyne was right. The view is breathtaking.

The sun is setting behind the Eiffel Tower, painting the sky in shades of orange, pink, and mauve. The gardens are almost empty. In the middle of November, at this hour, we’re practically alone.

“Wow…” David breathes.

“The light is perfect,” Emelyne confirms, delighted. “The photos are going to be stunning.”

Alexander checks the time on his phone.

“We’ve got an hour before it gets completely dark.”

“More than enough,” Oliver assures him.

“You’ve got the ring?” he asks his brother.

My stomach knots.

The ring.

The one he’d bought for Kristel.

The irony is cruel.

“Yes,” Alexander replies, pulling a small box from his leather backpack.

My hands grow clammy. In a few minutes, that ring—meant for my sister—will be on my finger. For a few months.

“Stand over there,” Emelyne directs. “We’ll have the Eiffel Tower in the background. Perfect.”

We obey, awkward and stiff, unsure how to position ourselves.

“Breathe,” Mara says. “You look like you’re about to be executed.”

I let out a nervous laugh.

“Get into the mood,” Emelyne continues. “You spent the afternoon at the Rodin Museum. You strolled around, laughed together… You’re happy. Relaxed. Alexander, question for you: what’s Sam’s favorite artwork?”

He smiles, his first real smile in two days.

“Easy. The Waltz, by Camille Claudel.”

My heart leaps. He remembers.

“Sam, and Alexander’s favorite?”

I shoot Alexander a teasing look.

“The Messenger of the Gods, obviously.”

“What?!” he chokes. “You’re going to make them think I’m a pervert!”

“Aren’t you?”

“Sam!”

“And yet, you stood in front of The Eternal Idol for twenty minutes…”

“That’s different!” he protests. “That sculpture is beautiful. You can feel the love… the man’s adoration for his partner.”