Feyre woke up with the worst hangover she'd had in years. She groaned and rolled around to grab her phone. Beneath her phone, she found a coaster from Rita's, and she could see a phone number written on it. Frowning for a second, she smiled as she remembered Rhysand, the incredibly gorgeous man she'd talked to at the bar, and who had offered to be her date at Elain's wedding. God, he'd been handsome, with his short black hair and his charming smile and his deep blue eyes. So charming in fact, that she'd almost said yes at his proposal to accompany her. She remembered how she had been incapable of looking away from him, and how she'd let herself imagine how good they would look together in the wedding pictures. She giggled at the memory. She had to have been very drunk, to even consider the idea of inviting a stranger to Elain's wedding.

And yet… he'd been sweet. And funny. And understanding. They had talked a grand total of five minutes, but she had had such a good feeling about him, that even now, when she was sober - well, mostly - she couldn't help but consider his offer. It would be nice, having someone by her side when she faced Tamlin for the first time since their breakup.

Someone knocked on the door of her bedroom and - this wasn't her bedroom. Opening her eyes for real this time, Feyre realized she was in Elain and Lucien's guest bedroom. She was supposed to have gone home after the party, but she remembered her sister being so drunk that she'd said she missed her fiancé too much, and she wanted to go home, and they'd ended up back at their apartment twenty minutes later, Nesta and her sharing the guest bedroom as Elain stumbled into her own to find Lucien.

Indeed, she looked at the other side of the bed to find her oldest sister asleep, in nothing but her underwear. Feyre laughed and rose from the bed, herself still in her dress. It had been Elain's idea for everyone to wear matching outfits, and she had been the one to find the set of ten horrifying colorful dresses and to assign a color to each of them. Nesta, who was always wearing fancy couture clothes, had begrudgingly worn her red dress at the club, and had taken it off as fast as possible when they'd entered the bedroom. Feyre covered her sister with a blanket before going to the door, and found Lucien on the other side of the door.

"Hey," she said to him, taking in his ruffled hair, exhausted look and half open shirt. "Short night?" She raised an eyebrow at his look, and he laughed.

"Yeah, Elain didn't want to go to sleep so…"

"Ugh, please no details, I don't need any images of horror inside my head."

He laughed. "Sorry."

"So, why are you up so early on a Saturday?"

"I just received a call and I'm going to have to go to the office for a couple of hours. I'm going out to buy breakfast, I might as well bring you some. What do you want?"

"A chocolate muffin would be nice. And for Nesta," she added as she looked around and took in her sister, still snoring slightly under the blanket, "could it be a few macaroons?"

"Sure."

"Thanks, Luce."

He smiled and went to the front door, and Feyre went to the bathroom to wash up. She couldn't help her chuckle as she saw herself in the mirror once more while she undressed, her turquoise dress and equally blue makeup clashing horrifically with the delicate flower designs of the bathroom tiles around her. Elain and Lucien had done wonders with the apartment they'd bought together a year earlier, as a mutual engagement present. It had been no more than a dump when they'd found it, on a good side of the city but still abandoned for way too long to be of any interest to anyone but them. And then they had spent the next six months remodeling the rooms, bringing down walls and painting with soft colors or restoring hardwood floors. Feyre remembered entire afternoons helping them in the kitchen, when Tamlin and her were still together, and she still thought she was happy with him. She remembered sharing a beer with Lucien on the small balcony of the master's bedroom, their friendship bright and easy at the time.

But that had been before the breakup.

She still loved Lucien. He was a good man, and he loved her sister, and she cared for him as a friend. But… He had known. How Tamlin acted with her when they were alone, how he talked to her and treated her like she was nothing. And he had known about the night of the Spring equinox, when Feyre had been away from town and…

But he had said nothing to her, he hadn't helped her until she had already left Tamlin. She understood why, of course, she knew how he himself felt about Tamlin, she knew of his feelings of insecurity and weakness when he was with him, but still, it hurt every time she saw Lucien. Maybe someday, they would learn to be friends once more, maybe once Elain and him were married, she would be happy to enjoy Saturday afternoons by their pool in the house upstate, or dinners on Tuesdays with Nesta and them. But right now… Even seeing him for breakfast was weird and tense, so she had a hard time imagining spending the whole weekend of the wedding in his company.

Or Tamlin's company, for that matter. God, he was going to be there too, being Lucien's bestman and all. She wasn't ready to see him again, let alone for almost three entire days in a very romantic resort where the wedding was held, and not after she'd managed to avoid him for the last four months and a half, in spite of all the wedding preparations they should have shared. It was supposed to be a good idea on Elain's part to make Feyre her maid of honor, seeing as she was at the time in a very serious relationship with the best man, and Elain had said it was poetic to have them together in the ceremony. Much less poetic now that Feyre had left him and refused to talk to him.

It would have been nice to have a boyfriend to go with her to this wedding, someone to hold hands with when she saw Tamlin, someone to snuggle against if she felt sad at some point. And yes, someone to show off, too. Tamlin had taken her for granted for so long, treating her like he had because he'd known she wouldn't leave him. He'd told her more than once, in this sweet voice of his that hid so many bitter thoughts, that he knew she loved him too much to be jealous of other men. Of course, that hadn't stopped him from being jealous anytime he saw her with someone, but she had stopped trying to understand his logic a long time ago. And it would have been so satisfying to show him that she had moved on and found someone else, to show him that she was able to live without him, even though he'd refused to believe her when she'd left him.

She got out of the shower and found a pair of shorts and a tee-shirt in one of the drawers of the closet, old clothes that Elain had left there. She came out of the bedroom, crossed the brightly lit hallway and went to make coffee in the kitchen. The pot was ready when Lucien came back, a paper bag in his hand, and she gave him a mug.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

They sat in silence for a while, Feyre nibbling at her muffin, trying to avoid meeting Lucien's gaze. She knew his face enough to know what she would find there, the sharpness of his russet eye fixed on her, as his other one, the artificial one, stayed still. She didn't want to shut him out, but she certainly wouldn't be the one to start up a conversation. He seemed to know it, because he said:

"How was the party last night?"

"Good. Elain enjoyed herself."

He laughed, "yeah, I saw that, she kept texting me the whole time. With pictures," he added, eyebrows shooting up suggestively.

"Oh my God, do I even want to know what she sent you?"

Lucien laughed. "I don't know, there was a lot of bottles of Tequila, and a lot of weird selfies with strangers."

Feyre didn't restrain her own laugh at the memories of the previous night, of Elain telling everyone they encountered that she was getting married and she wanted to take pictures with them. That's what she'd been doing with the pictures then, sending them to her fiance all night long. It was actually really sweet, the way Elain always wanted to be close to Lucien, eager to write to him even during her bachelorette party.

"And did you have fun?" he continued, pulling her out of her reverie.

"I did. It felt good to see Clare and the girls again, it's been a while."

They fell silent once more, but she could feel he wasn't done talking. And a minute later, he talked again.

"How are you feeling about next weekend?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well… do you think you'll be alright?" there was concern in his voice, and something else too, something like… pity. She hated it.

"I don't know what you're talking about." She knew exactly what he was talking about.

"Well, I know it's the first time you'll see Tam since the breakup and… I don't want you to feel bad all weekend, I mean you'll be all alone and…"

"I'm not coming alone." Oh no. She hadn't meant to say that, but she couldn't handle the tone of pity in his voice.

"You're not? Who are you bringing?"

There was no way to get out of it now. Either she told him the truth and faced even more pity, or she kept her lie going.

"A guy. You don't know him."

"Oh, okay. Is he your boyfriend?"

"We're not exactly… there yet. But we've been dating. For about a month."

"Okay well… good then. Have you told Elain? We probably need to make some adjustments to fit him in."

Feyre smiled as she saw an escape to her stupid lie. "You know, if it's too much of a trouble to accommodate him, he doesn't have to come. I'll tell him it's too late to change anything."

"Are you kidding?" he said as he got up and went to the front door, his briefcase in hand, "of course we'll accommodate him!"

"Good," Feyre whispered to herself when Lucien was gone. Now she needed a fake boyfriend.