“Okay, it's probably not a he so you have to stop saying that,” she says, emphasizing the word he dramatically.

I shrug.

“Come on,” Brooke says. “I'm serious. Most people who write in that genre are women so there's a strong probability that this writer is a woman.”

“Why does that matter?”

“She may be more open to talking to you after you find her.”

“I kinda doubt that.” I let out a deep sigh and roll my eyes. “Most indie authors promote themselves online and on social media. Why not? They want to sell their books. So, if I thought this person is obfuscating and hiding their identity on purpose, that means something. That means even if I go through all the trouble of finding out the truth, then it's all going to be for nothing. They're not going to give me an interview. They won’t want to talk to me.”

I’m exhausted and spent. The more I think about this, the less certain I am that I’m going to write this story at all.

“Okay,” Brooke says, sitting on her bed and leaning toward me. “I'm going to help you.”

“How?” I ask, throwing my hands up.

“I’ll help you with everything, whatever you need. I’ll help you do research. Besides, it's not like you're going to Laguna Beach to celebrate your engagement. You have three solid days to find something and I'm sure that's more than enough. You should come over and we can work on it together.”

A light knock on the door startles me at first, but it's just Lindsey.

“Mom said to find you because they're going to be cutting the cake,” Lindsey says.

I shake my head. I thought that this horrible night would be over but I had completely forgotten about the cake.

“Listen, it's not going to be a big deal. You just stand there with Alex. He can say a few words and then you cut the cake. That's it.”

She’s saying this to be nice, but in reality, we both know there's a lot more to this.

On my way downstairs, Brooke squeezes my hand in solidarity. I glance over at Lindsey who gives me a sympathetic shrug.

Everyone feels bad for me but everyone also understands why I have to go through with this.

Everyone except for me.

Why am I going through with this?

When we get to the kitchen, I see Alex standing right next to the cake waiting for me like a real groom.

He walks over and gives me a small hug. Somehow, it’s almost as if nothing that happened today has registered with him at all. As long as we're going through the motions of the engagement party, he seems to think that we are still engaged.

He takes my hand and walks me through the double doors into the living room where everyone is waiting. We approach the DJ who has just introduced us as the future Mr. and Mrs. Wetterling and Alex confidently takes the mic.

This is the part that I hate; speeches.

I hate giving speeches and I equally hate receiving them. I don't like when people say nice things in my honor. I've always felt like that ever since I was a little kid. It's hard to explain exactly what makes this practice so terrible except that there seems to be some sort of inauthenticity to it.

I mean, why make speeches about people when you both already know each other and everything about each other?

When my dad takes the microphone, he starts to tell the crowd all about the kind of girl that I used to be when I was little. He tells about how proud he is of me, but throughout this whole presentation, I feel like it’s a lie.

If these people really knew me, then there would be no reason for the speech. Since they don't, then what's the point? My dad has always been good at speeches. He's not so good with the one-on-one, but he knows how to woo a crowd and how to make people laugh.

It's a skill that I lack, but luckily the fact that I'm a woman lets me off the hook for the most part.

My dad’s speech is followed by Alex's dad’s speech, which is similarly distant yet fun and inviting. His dad has years of experience buttering up investors and proves to be almost as charming as mine.

The words that our fathers say are powerful and kind and yet they make me feel like such a fraud. I know that they probably don't mean the things that they say, but I believe them anyway and it makes me feel like I'm the one who is lying to all of our guests.

When Alex's dad stops talking and hangs up the mic, I finally let out a sigh of relief. I take a sip of champagne and raise it a bit higher as a final acknowledgement of this engagement. I’ve had enough and I can’t wait to go home in my own car.

But Alex stops me. He clears his throat, raises his glass, and asks for a few minutes of everyone's time.

“I just want everyone here to know,” he begins, “that I don't deserve this woman who is standing by my side. I never did and I hope that I can go through my life making choices that will finally lead me to her.

“I have made a lot of mistakes, most of which I will hopefully take to the grave, but she is well aware of them and she has found it in her soul to forgive me. I never expected that and she deserves a lot better than me, but I appreciate it.

“I just want to tell you in front of all of these people that I love you more than you will ever know. Thank you so much for giving me a second chance, and then a third chance and then a fourth chance.

“Mainly, I just want to say thank you for forgiving my flaws and my mistakes. Thank you for sticking by me no matter what. I will spend the rest of my days trying to be the husband that you deserve.”

The room explodes in applause and I freeze unable to move. I don't know what to say or do.

I just glare at Alex and hate him with all of my might.

How dare he say this to me?

How dare he dance around something that is so personal and intimate?

How dare he tell all these people half a truth and then leave me hanging to answer for the rest?

I swallow hard and the crowd cheers louder and louder. Then suddenly, they calm down and expect me to say something in return.

This is my chance.

This is my opportunity to tell everyone that the wedding is off because my fiancé has cheated on me with his boss.

I take the microphone and clear my throat. I can count the number of speeches that I have made on one hand and most of those were work requirements and debate class.

My whole body starts to shake.

My mouth runs dry.

I take another sip of my champagne, but the tanginess makes my taste buds dry up.

“The ball is in your court,” Alex whispers under his breath, just loud enough for me to hear.

I look out into the audience.

My eyes scan over my mom, my dad, Lindsey, and Brooke. My aunts and uncles are here and then somewhere in the middle of the group, I see him.

It's Liam. He's standing there and there is space all around him. Suddenly everyone else in the room disappears and it’s just him and me.

He's one of the few people here who know the truth.

I look at him for guidance, pleading with my eyes.

What should I do?

What should I say?

He gives me a slight nod. It's followed by a smile. Suddenly, my chest tightens as I open my mouth.

“Thank you all for being here,” I say and the microphone makes a grotesque sound that sends shivers down my spine. “Thank you all for traveling such great distances and taking time out of your day and out of your life to celebrate us.”