"Alone at last," Ang says with a laugh. "What have you got in there? Can I bring you a couple of things? What size?"

"Oh," I say, pausing my struggle to stare at the collection of hangers I already have. "Sure, I guess." Then I give her my clothing range based on material and cut.

Two seconds after I've finished speaking, Ang raps on the door and tosses a plum-colored gown over the top. The fabric looks heavy and expensive.

"That's too fancy," I say.

"It's my wedding," Ang says, "and I don't think it's too fancy."

"I'll look like a bridesmaid."

"It is a bridesmaid's dress," Ang admits. "But my bridesmaids are wearing green in a medieval theme. You'll be fine. Besides, you'll be on Blake's arm. Being a step above other people is practically a requirement."

The dress I was trying to get on is still unzipped at the back, an electric blue nightmare, and I stare at the one shouldered floor length gown in the prettiest plum.

"You have to be honest," I say, as I shimmy out of the first dress to put on Ang's selection. "I want Blake to lose the ability to speak."

"Did he ever have it?" Ang asks dryly.

"Touché." As I tug the garment over my head, it slides over my body in a delicious cascade of material. I'm in love from the feel of it alone. From behind, I tug the zipper as far as I can, and then I reach over my back to draw it the rest of the way. Then when I turn to look in the mirror, my breath catches. The color looks amazing on me. My skin is still sun kissed from the long summer and fall outdoors with Blake, and the plum's richness makes my brown hair less bland, and my brown eyes sparkle with happiness.

"You are a freaking genius," I say to Ang as I open the changeroom door.

Ang's hand flies to her chest when she sees me. "Wow. That's a winner."

I turn in a circle, and the dress swishes around my legs. It's fitted, but not so much that I can't move.

"That looks lovely on you," the salesclerk says from the desk. "Off the rack and fits you like a glove."

"We'll take it," Ang says with a grin. "Put it on Blake's card."

"What? No. I can pay for it."

"Nope," Ang says. "He left clear instructions that he was to pay for whatever dress you wanted." She gently tears the tag off the dress. "He mentioned a deal, and when my brother gives his word, he takes that oath very seriously."

I go back into the changeroom, and I stare at myself in the mirror, surprised at how pretty I look without my hair and makeup done. Maybe I really can stop Blake in his tracks, make him reevaluate.

When I come out with the dress slung over my arm, Ang is getting Blake's credit card from the salesclerk who then slips my dress into a garment bag.

"We should grab a drink," Ang says as she pushes open the front door.

Part of me just wants to get back to Blake, to the hotel. But I also know that Ang is Blake's favorite sibling, the person he's probably closest to in the world. On our trip, it became clear that his friendship circle is small and tight. Missing the opportunity to know Ang better might end up becoming a regret. She's here. I'm here. And if she put in a good word with Blake for me, that would be even better. I don't think I can ask her to do that, but maybe she'll like me enough that she'll do it anyway.

"A drink? Sure." I follow Ang to an SUV in the parking lot, and Ang takes my dress and hangs it in the back before pointing across the street.

"The lone pub in this village." She grins at me. "Adam's uncle."

Of course it is. Even as Blake and I got further and further away from St. Anthony today, he pointed to shops and stores owned by people he knew or friends of friends. I'm fairly convinced that all of Newfoundland is six degrees of separation from each other.

Inside, the pub is dimly lit and smells like stale beer and a bit like fish. I can't decide if the smell is the pub itself or the various patrons in the bar, but I decide to pretend I don't smell it. If Blake were here, I'd glance at him, and he'd know what I was thinking. We've got that now, the silent communication that no one else gets. It's something I'm quite proud of because I've never had it before with a guy. My parents and my sister, yes, but a boyfriend? Never.

"Did you want to join my bridal party tomorrow while we get ready?" Ang asks. "My aunt is doing hair and Adam's second cousin is doing our makeup. We could squeeze another in."

"Oh, I wouldn't want to do that."

"Wouldn't want to or don't think you should?" Ang grins. "Because I don't have to ask. It wasn't Blake's idea. So if you're worried about whether I mean it, I do."

I scan her face, and so much of her is familiar to me. There's a striking resemblance between her and Blake from the shape of their eyes to the curve of their cheekbones. Ang is lighter than Blake in her delivery, but they're similar in their thinking too. "Okay," I say. "Sure. Thank you."

A pleasant, companionable silence envelops us as we order our drinks.

"Did Blake mention breakfast yesterday?" Ang asks with a grimace as we slide into a booth, balancing our drinks and purses in our other hand.

"He was pretty upset." I set my glass on the table and my purse on the bench beside me.

"Mom always goes for the jugular." Ang sighs and raises her glass to her lips. "Diana is a no-go zone, you know? She's like the one person you can't talk about directly. Dance around it, maybe okay. Mention her name? Nope."

I swallow the sip I took, and I can feel the color draining from my face. She said Diana's name like I should know all about her, but I don't. Do I ask?

Ang glances up from staring in her drink. "Oh, shit. What did I say?"

"I don't know who Diana is," I admit.

Ang's eyes widen. "Oh."

"Yeah, so..." Old me would have barreled ahead and asked all kinds of invasive questions without a second thought to Blake's privacy or his preference. "If he wanted me to know, he'd have told me."

"I wish it was that simple," Ang says. "More like he's incapable of talking about her. The wound looks healed," Ang runs a finger along the spot where Blake's scar resides, "but it's just covered over, probably still festering underneath."

Then because I'm still me, I can't keep my lips sealed. "A bad breakup? I gathered that much from a few things Blake has said."

Ang bites her lip and searches my face. "If he hasn't told you yet, he'll be mad I even said this much. And I'm kinda counting on him to walk me down the aisle tomorrow." She reaches across the table and squeezes my hand. "I haven't seen him this happy in a long time, though. I can tell you that."

"We're temporary," I say. "That's what we agreed."

"There is absolutely nothing temporary about the way my brother looks at you. It's clear that to him, you're the most beautiful flower in the garden or the cutest puppy in the litter. I don't know what he's said or hasn't said, but he feels it. What you feel, he feels it too. Guaranteed. I know my brother."

"If I could make it not temporary, I would." I take a deep breath. "I'm working on something that I think might mean we could be together longer, if we wanted... If he wanted. Because, honestly, I think I'd take any scrap he'd give me at the moment." I let out a little laugh. "Which is so not me."

"I don't miss this part of dating," Ang says. "The uncertainty. I think that's the part about marriage I'm going to love the most. He's my person. Just mine. Forever."

"That idea used to scare the shit out of me," I admit. "I never thought I was built for longevity in anything—relationships, jobs. Everything felt changeable for most of my life. It's not like that with Blake. I can't imagine my life without him. I don't want to."

"You should tell him," Ang says. "I mean, if you haven't already, you should tell him. My brother is stubborn and difficult, and he has a hard time letting things go, but when he makes a promise, he keeps it."

"He's one of the best men I know," I say.

"He'd do anything to protect the people he loves, even if he has to sacrifice himself to do it." Ang is staring over my shoulder, clearly caught in a memory I can't access. I can't tell from her tone if it's something she witnessed or experienced, but the sincerity in her words makes my chest ache. He might not feel like he has much of a family connection here in Newfoundland, but what he has with Ang is definitely special. I think she'd do anything for him too.

"I just want him to be happy," she says.

"Me too," I say. "Me too." I just really hope he finds that happiness with me. 

Secrets are trickling out. How will Blake react?

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