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“No?” Holden laughs, a little maniacally. “You sure about that?”

There’s a moment then, where everything is quiet, before Carson steps back. He heads straight for his car and peels off, steam whispering into the gray pillowy air.

Holden takes a deep breath, then turns toward me.

“C’mon, Lily. Let’s go. I’ll take you to the studio.”

The ride is still just as tense. Holden plays The Smiths and taps his fingers, and eventually I work out asking him if he likes the song.

“Toren showed them to me,” he says. “I like them now.”

I try to take the in, since Holden was the one to bring him up first.

“I’m sorry.”

“Lily—”

“I didn’t want to hurt him, but I didn’t know how to tell Toren—or you, really—”

“Lily.” He cuts me off again, shaking his head as he pulls up to the curb and puts on his hazards. “We . . . he just needs some time, yeah? He’s hurt. And he wouldn’t be that hurt if he didn’t care, okay?”

I nod, the pressure behind my eyes almost unbearable.

“I don’t want to marry Carson,” I say, as if it will fix anything.

“Yeah,” Holden deadpans. “I wouldn’t want to either.”

It’s a joke that neither of us laughs at.

“Chin up, pretty girl. It’ll all work out.”

I hop out of the passenger side, sending Holden a small wave as I head toward the art building.

“Just call me when you’re ready to go home.”

Chapter 46

Lily

“I’m sorry.”

The words have left my mouth so frequently, they don’t sound like words anymore. They mean nothing to me anyway.

“How in the goddamn world did you forget?” My father seethes from the other side of the hired car. I’m in the back middle, while Carson and my dad, both in fancy suits, took the back seat. He’s more irritated than usual, possibly because we’re late.

I don’t answer him, mostly because I know he doesn’t want me to, nor would he care for what I have to say about the fact that he didn’t tell me. Carson has been terribly quiet, in a way that makes me believe it was him who was supposed to tell me.

Instead, my fingers roll the massive glinting diamond, popping the ring off my finger, where it’s big enough to slide easily.

“We’re here,” my dad announces as the car glides up to the curb. I spot a few people mingling outside the convention center entrance, all in fancy dresses and pressed suits. “Just . . .” His sigh is heavy and he barely turns his chin to even truly acknowledge me. “Behave tonight.”

As if I don’t do everything he ever tells me to.

I can just see his jaw clench from his sharp profile. “And put that goddamn ring on your finger.”

Instead of disappointment or anxiety, I just feel . . . done. Annoyed even.

My dad steps out of the car, straightening with a slick smile. Carson glances back at me, eying the ring and then the curve of my shoulders where I’m slumped over. He reaches his hand out to help me out of the middle seat.