Skye was not ready to see Jeffrey, and since she wasn't ready, she stared at him. He looked the same. It was silly of her to be surprised by that. Why would he look any different? He wasn't different. She was.

Skye was plenty conscious of the challenging look Mrs. Tifton bore into her, but it didn't stop her from watching Jeffrey make his way down the porch, past the lily pond, through a patch of geraniums, and right to them. He did not look happy. Skye felt unbalanced. If he had heard anything that she and Mrs. Tifton had talked about, she knew, with overwhelming certainty, that everything was about to go to complete shit. Her weekend, what was supposed to be the happiest and most important moment in her life, would be beyond salvation.

If Jeffrey noticed all of her staring, he had nothing to say about it. He stopped a mere arm's length away and glanced between the two of them. Skye tried to smile. He did not smile back.

"What's going on, Mom?"

"Heavens, Jeffrey, don't look so serious. I'm only chatting with your…" She smiled at Skye and lifted her shoulder in a little shrug. "Friend."

She won't be your friend for much longer, that smile seemed to say. Skye concentrated all of her energy on wishing that a storm would suddenly break out and a bolt of lightning would strike her down and liberate her from the drama that was to come.

"Uh huh," said Jeffrey. "That isn't what it looks like."

Now he did smile at Skye, and she thought it the most wonderful smile she had ever seen. He wouldn't have given it to her if he had heard them. He must have seen them together and come to find out what the trouble was. Skye and Mrs. Tifton talking always meant trouble.

"Relax, dear," Mrs. Tifton said with a dismissive chuckle. "We have kept things perfectly civil, wouldn't you say, Skye?"

Skye had no use for civility, and none for the genial show Mrs. Tifton was putting on for Jeffrey. If only he knew – but he didn't know. He couldn't, but Skye did. One day, she would exact her revenge on Mrs. Tifton, but for now, she said, "Fuck you."

Skye had said plenty of nasty things about Mrs. Tifton, and she would say plenty more, but she had never been so overtly profane. And never in front of Jeffrey, who started and flushed, now in quite the difficult situation.

"Whoa," he said, struggling to decide how best to react to such a predicament. "Skye—"

Mrs. Tifton held up her hand. "It's alright, Jeffrey. I appreciate that you'll stand up for me, but it's no matter. Skye doesn't surprise me. I know she's crass."

Skye hated being spoken about as if she weren't present. It was cause for her to curse at Mrs. Tifton again, but she refrained, for Jeffrey's sake alone. She could save those curses for her pillow.

"Okay, don't call her—" Jeffrey fell silent. He didn't want to make things worse. He looked from his mother, to Skye, and to his mother again.

When it became clear that neither of them would tell him what had happened without being pushed, Jeffrey – in the mood for no such pushing – sighed and rubbed his hand through his hair. It made tufts of it stick up in strange directions, and Skye was momentarily distracted by memories of young Jeffrey's disobedient hair. At some point (though when, Skye couldn't place) he had either better learned how to control it, or had better cared to.

"Mom, you should probably go." He spoke evenly, careful to take no side in a battle that – as far as he knew – did not involve him. "And next time you come by, please call me first."

"Yes, yes, fine." Mrs. Tifton looked to Skye, who pulled her eyes away from Jeffrey as if the sudden stare commanded her to. She instead rested her chin in her palm and studied the ground. "Skye, congratulations on your marriage. I'm sure you will be very happy."

Skye did not lift her chin from her hand, but she did raise her eyes to send Mrs. Tifton her most savage glare – just in time to see her kiss Jeffrey on the cheek and disappear down Arundel's driveway.

Jeffrey was wholly stunned by that kiss. He pointed over his shoulder in the vague direction his mother had gone. "She's never done that before."

Of course not. She only had done it to goad Skye, and goad her she did. Skye glared at the ground again. She would have to stop sooner or later, but she was afraid to look at Jeffrey now that they were alone. It was stupid. This was Jeffrey. He didn't frighten her.

Except, that wasn't true anymore. Skye supposed it wasn't Jeffrey himself that frightened her, only what she had learned about him and not yet processed, but the distinction wasn't all that important. She was scared either way.

Jeffrey sat next to Skye on the fountain. She felt him looking at her, but he didn't say anything. That was something he had always been good at: knowing when he should and when he should not ask questions.

His hand dropped down on her shoulder. He squeezed it gently, only once, and then his touch was gone as quickly as it had come. Skye's heard beat so erratically that she was surprised the outline of it wasn't visible through her shirt. She was so aware of him there – the cycle of his every breath, his hands draped over his knees, the faint smell of shampoo that indicated he had probably just showered, a scent that mixed well with the mint of his gum. It was all too much for Skye. She had to get out of here, preferably to someplace private where she could scream and no one would come running.

She couldn't take off on him, no matter how badly she wanted to. He wouldn't understand, and he was worried about her enough already. Skye could feel that too. She needed to say something – anything at all, but what? The truth was out of the question.

She said, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have cursed at your mother."

"No," he agreed, but he didn't sound angry. "Do you want to tell me what that was about?"

Skye shrugged. She couldn't say that it was the very last thing on earth she ever wanted to tell him. She still couldn't even look at him. Her chin stayed firmly pressed into her palm. "Forget it. It's not a big deal."

Ha. As if it wasn't the biggest deal Skye had ever had the displeasure of confronting.

"Okay."

"Were we too loud? Is that why you came out here? Because you heard us?" Skye didn't think he had, but she needed to make sure. If she didn't, wondering – fretting about it would make her crazy.

"No. I saw you from my window," he said, and the relief that gifted Skye was enough for her to finally lift her head. "And it's not that I thought you needed me to rescue you, just that you might appreciate it if I did anyway. You looked upset."

"I was."

"You still are," he said softly.

"Yeah." Being upset was a curse Skye didn't think she'd be free from anytime soon.

Jeffrey hesitated, but ultimately did ask, "What did she say to you?"

"Stupid stuff. Stuff she had no right to tell me."

"Oh." Jeffrey tapped his fingers on his knee. "What stupid stuff?"

Skye only had to brush him off one more time; he wouldn't pressure her if she did. That never got them anywhere. It was an easy solution, but Skye's wretched emotions screwed it all up. Thinking about what Mrs. Tifton had said – Jeffrey's secret feelings, and worse, her threats about them – tugged on a stray thread of Skye's restraint, unraveling it until tears poured into her eyes.

"You're crying," Jeffrey noticed immediately, and he was greatly distressed by it. His mother had been awful to Skye more than a few times, but she had never made her cry.

"No I'm not." Skye rubbed her eyes until that was true.

"Skye, what did she say?" He practically begged her to tell him.

She could share half of the truth. She didn't even want to do that, but it wasn't like she could explain nothing. Why, if things were flipped and it was Jeffrey suddenly in tears, he would have to tell her a reason, or she would work herself into a tizzy drawing up the worst of possibilities.

Skye finally looked at him, and his face was so full of confusion and concern that she said, "Fine, if you must know, she hates the idea of me getting married at Arundel so much that she swore she will disinherit you if I do it."

Jeffrey drew back. "Are you serious?"

"Unfortunately."

He shook his head while that sank in. Then, leaving Skye utterly stupefied, he started to laugh.

"Jeffrey, this is not funny."

"No. No, it's just—" He waited until his laughter spell had passed. "Every time I think she can't surprise me anymore, she does."

"Well, she surprised me too, and now I have no idea what to do."

He smiled at her, no longer with an unsuitable amusement, but instead with reassurance. "I'll make it easy for you. Get married here anyway."

Skye had not expected him to say that. It wasn't something one dreading a wedding taking place at one's own home would want to say. Unless Mrs. Tifton was wrong. Skye had been trying to figure out if she was, or more accurately, if she was right. She couldn't tell. She saw nothing in Jeffrey that indicated he was burdened by any sort of heartache. Was she truly so inept at reading the people she cared for most? Or was it Mrs. Tifton who was inept at reading her own son? That did seem more likely. The theory should have consoled Skye, but it didn't. Was she…disappointed? That couldn't be right. She had never been the type to feed off the spare attention of men. She had never been so much as flattered by it. Jeffrey shouldn't be different. Jeffrey's attention should be worse, even less appreciated. It would be, right? Then why was she so curious?

She shoved those questions away, where she hoped never to revisit them and their confusion. "How can I? I can't enjoy my wedding and also know that you will have to pay the price for it."

Whether that price would be paid in money or in a broken heart was one in the same. Skye the bride was doomed to attend her own wedding miserable and guilt-ridden.

"I won't. She's always threatening to disinherit me," said Jeffrey. "She did when I moved to Germany. Did I tell you that? I moved anyway, and my inheritance remains fully intact. Also, the second trust fund she set up for when I'm thirty – that's still there too."

"No, Jeffrey. She meant it this time. I know she did," said Skye, woefully incapable of telling him how she could know that so confidently.

"Well." Jeffrey shrugged. "Let her, then. You have my blessing, if that's what you need."

It was not what Skye needed. It did not even begin to soothe her. If he did love her as his mother insisted he did, then why in the world was he encouraging her to get married? And at his own expense? He had a perfectly good reason to ask her to hold off, so why the fuck wasn't he taking it? It simply wasn't logical, and aside from a couple glitches here and there, Skye had always known Jeffrey to be logical. The easiest explanation was, of course, that Jeffrey was hiding no ill-begotten adoration for her, and— adoration? Good grief, Skye, what the heck is that about?, she chastised herself. She had no answer, just a refusal to accept the possibility of Mrs. Tifton's incorrectness.

Skye pondered that a while, perplexed, and she decided that it must be due to the second half of Mrs. Tifton's threat, the half that Jeffrey knew nothing about. His mother expected her to not only reschedule her wedding, but to drop Jeffrey as a friend entirely. It would be a shame, a crime for her to do so over nothing, if he loved her in no romantic fashion. Skye would spend the rest of her days hating herself and mourning a loss unnecessarily suffered if that were true. So she had to know if Jeffrey loved her, for the sake of their friendship and their future. That wasn't crazy.

Skye was not a game player, and she held all that were in serious contempt. That did not stop her from stooping the lowest she had ever stooped (and would ever stoop again). She lay her hand on Jeffrey's thigh, and there, she even brushed her thumb in gentle little circles. That would tell her what she needed to know.

"It isn't enough," she said. "I cannot in good conscience put you through something that awful."

Jeffrey's eyes settled on Skye's hand, high on his leg. Her fingers tingled, as if touching him had built a circuit through which electricity traveled between them. Perhaps he felt that current too, because he soon shifted his leg, and her hand fell to the stone fountain. That wasn't a good sign.

Skye balked. Not a good sign? It was a signal that should have made her send grateful praises to the stars. So why didn't she?

"It's not that awful. I provide for myself, you know," said Jeffrey. His voice was quiet, so he cleared his throat and smiled. "She thinks I rely on her, but I make a point to pay my own way. So, thank you for worrying about me, but you really don't have to. I'm not worried at all."

That made one of them.

"But what about your music?" Skye fretted. She grabbed his wrist, determined to discover something in Jeffrey that proved he liked it when she touched him. He had to. His mother certainly thought he would. "What if something happens, and you suddenly can't support yourself with it? What if you have to change careers? I can't be the reason that happens."

Jeffrey pulled his wrist out of her hand to casually scratch his neck. Skye's stomach plummeted, and before she had time to again ask herself why, Jeffrey said, "I do okay. I brought in about forty thousand dollars last year."

Forty thousand was a livable wage, but not a great one. At twenty-five, it was fine, but what about when Jeffrey was thirty-five? Forty-five? Would he still be happy with that kind of income? With the lack of job security?

"That's not a lot," she said, still fretting.

Jeffrey laughed. "You forget, Skye, if I have to sell Arundel, that will put an extra several million dollars in my pocket. I've never appraised it, but if I had to guess, I'd say it would probably go for about ten."

Oh. Skye had absolutely forgotten that.

He smiled, sensing that some of her worries were shrinking away. Only some of them. "So forget about what my mom said. I've never cared about her money anyway. Why do you think I always ignore her whenever she threatens to cut me off? She just wants to control me, and she can't accept that she doesn't have that power. Do what you want. I do."

"But she can't treat you—"

"Skye," Jeffrey sighed. "That's the other thing – I know you don't like my mom, and I know you think I need to be protected from her, but I don't. Really, I don't. She's my mom, and I do like her – don't look at me like that."

"Like what?"

Jeffrey snorted. "Like you think I'm crazy for liking my own mom."

"I'm not. I don't."

"Yes, you do." Jeffrey gave her shoulder a good-natured shove, and Skye couldn't help but notice that when he did, he also slid a couple inches away from her. "I'm not crazy. I know she's difficult, but I also understand her in ways that you don't. She's had a pretty painful life. I think I'm about the only person who hasn't hurt her in some way or another. She's afraid that one day I'm going to abandon her, because that's what everyone else she cared about did. It's why she tries so hard to dictate what I do, I know it is. She thinks that if she's in charge, then she won't have to worry about losing me too. And yeah, it does drive me crazy, but she's doing her best. The important thing is, no matter how much she pressures me, she never does punish me for doing what I want."

"Wow," said Skye, not sure how to respond. "That was quite a speech."

She'd never heard Jeffrey talk about his mother that way. She was impressed. He had far more patience than she did, and even more acuity. She wasn't sure she would have the restraint not to resent her father if he was as problematic and demanding as Mrs. Tifton was.

She also wasn't sure Jeffrey would still feel this way if he knew the full truth of what his mother had just done. She'd never crossed a line as substantial as the one she had crossed tonight. Skye thought it was too much for anyone to forgive – even Jeffrey, who was well practiced in forgiveness.

Jeffrey laughed off her comment. "It's true. Every word. And Skye – I really don't think my mom will disinherit me this time either. She's not that vindicative, I promise."

Yes she will, because she thinks she is protecting you, and in a twisted, conniving way she actually might be, which I could know for certain if you would prove her right and look at me like you might be just a little bit in love with me, goddammit. Skye was not doing well. Mrs. Tifton had seen to that, the bitch.

Jeffrey was saying, "I think that's why she has switched to threatening other people about disinheriting me instead – because I never take her seriously, and they will."

"I don't know, Jeffrey," Skye said, unconvinced.

He looked at her with a quizzical smile. "Why are you so hung up on this? I'm giving you an out; it's right there. If you want to get married here, then get married here."

The problem was that Skye wasn't positive she did want that now, despite all of Jeffrey's unwavering support about it. Even if she didn't need to worry about getting him disinherited, she really did not want to break his heart.

Skye didn't know why she was so hung up on that either. Jeffrey didn't seem to be heartbroken, not even a little bit, and Mrs. Tifton had proven herself to be delusional in the past. Skye had been right to say she needed to forget everything Mrs. Tifton had told her. If she wouldn't ask Jeffrey about it point-blank – which she couldn't – then she needed to let it go entirely. She wasn't even trying.

Skye grasped at the first flimsy excuse she could think of. "It's just that sometimes I think you don't stick up for yourself enough."

He grinned. "I stick up for myself plenty."

"You didn't with Dušek," Skye said quietly. She wondered again if Dušek's strange behavior really had stemmed from jealousy. It would have been nice if he would have told her, if he was jealous of Jeffrey. Maybe then she wouldn't have been so fucking blindsided by Mrs. Tifton.

"Is that still bothering you?" Jeffrey's eyebrows crinkled with surprise.

Skye shrugged. It hadn't been bothering her, but it was starting to again. If Dušek had been jealous, she doubted that had changed any. He was just hiding it better. The thought made her defensive, as if the object of Dušek's suspicions wasn't Jeffrey, but her. That was weird, because she knew Dušek trusted her. She felt defensive just the same.

"Will it make you feel better if I say that if it wasn't for you, I would have politely told him to fuck off?" Jeffrey joked.

Skye didn't laugh. "What does that mean – if it wasn't for me?"

"I didn't want to argue with your fiancé right before your wedding." He raised his hands. "Sue me."

Skye smiled, but briefly. She was busy looking at Jeffrey's hands, each adorned by two black and silver rings. Now that she thought about it, he actually wore a lot of jewelry. A braided bracelet on one wrist, a black smart watch on the other, and there was a dark chain peeking out from under the collar of his shirt. It looked good on him, she decided. She wondered why she had never noticed that before.

She'd forgotten what they were talking about. She looked away from Jeffrey's accessories in order to better remember. Ah yes. Dušek. "He was trying to pick a fight."

"Yeah, I know." Jeffrey slid one of his rings up and down his finger. Was that a habit of his? Something else Skye had somehow never noticed. "Sometimes it's better to let a fight pass you by."

"I told him off for it later," said Skye.

"I know that too."

"He said? Really?"

"Yes, but also, I…heard you." Jeffrey caught her surprised face and winced with guilt. "Sorry. I should have walked away, but I was curious."

Skye punched his shoulder. "Spying on me, huh?"

She wondered if that meant Jeffrey paid closer attention to her than she realized. A strange satisfaction settled over her, one that she could not explain. Most people were not satisfied when told that someone had been eavesdropping on them.

Jeffrey cast her a sheepish smile and flushed. "Just the once."

This was rather promising. Maybe she could push him into flushing harder. That might give something away. She no longer bothered to ask herself why she cared. Why did that have to matter?

"How come you did?"

He laughed and scratched behind his ear, obviously nervous, but was he nervous because they were treading close to a dangerous subject, or only because she was calling him out? She wished she better understood body language.

"I just wanted to hear what you would say."

Not a very telling response. Skye scooted closer to him so that she could nudge him with her shoulder. In doing so, her knee skimmed against his, but that had been completely innocent and unintentional. She didn't move her leg away, but Jeffrey moved his. Right on impact. Honestly, it irritated her – Jeffrey and his stupid honor.

Skye frowned. Where had that come from? She never called anyone's honor stupid. She held honor in the highest regard. Sure, Jeffrey was giving her absolutely nothing to go on, but there was no cause for irritation.

"And? What did you think?" she pressed.

"You mean about what you said?"

"Yeah." Skye leaned her chin on her fist, which she had propped on the leg that was closest to Jeffrey. He really did smell nice – light and clean. Skye had never been the most olfactory of persons, but she couldn't help but notice that with him right there and fresh out of the shower. That wasn't a sin. She was a woman, after all. "I'm sure you have thoughts."

Jeffrey smirked. "A few."

"Like what?"

"Oh, I don't know." He shrugged. "It made me feel better. I'll admit I was a little insulted when you didn't defend me. Before, I mean."

"Come on, I always defend you. You know that." Skye slid her hand up and down Jeffrey's forearm, something she had not done on purpose. It was an instinctive touch, though an unfamiliar one, and Skye was surprised by how natural it felt.

For the fourth time that night, Jeffrey did not let her touch him for very long. Instead, he hit her arm and flashed her a roguish grin.

"I saw you with him, and you definitely did not look mad."

Skye's next ploy was a further blot on her already soiled integrity. If she couldn't get Jeffrey to reveal a sick heart through her touch, maybe she could coax it out of him with her words. "Dušek has a very soothing effect on me."

Nothing. Skye decided that was probably better, so for good measure, she called down some extra curses upon herself and her heedless schemes. Now she was playing with Jeffrey's heart, and only to answer a few personal questions. When had she become such a self-serving lowlife?

Jeffrey responded with only a teasing smile. "Good. That's exactly what you need. Imagine the chaos if you found him aggravating."

"Only in isolated incidents," said Skye. "Such as when he insults you for no good reason and later acts like he did nothing wrong."

Skye was glad Jeffrey had overheard her arguing with Dušek. She wouldn't have wanted him to think that she hadn't minded Dušek's childish and hostile words. Oh, she had minded, alright. She had minded so much that on more than one occasion that afternoon, she had considered dragging him right up to Jeffrey where she would demand that he beg for forgiveness in the most abject of ways. But, she had decided that would only be unpleasant for everyone, and while Dušek had been spared the humiliation, she had spent hours stewing in angry indignation. She had only confronted Dušek about it once she was free from visions of him apologizing to Jeffrey on his knees. If she was going to spend her life with Dušek, he was required to like Jeffrey. It was as nonnegotiable as it was that he breathe the air.

"No harm done, Skye. I meant it when I said I like him. He's great for you, and I'm really happy you found what you want."

"Thanks," said Skye, certain that she had incorrectly identified the word's taste in her mouth as a bitter one.

"So don't let anyone mess with your big day, alright? Especially not my mother."

Skye nodded and smiled. It was all she could do, because her mind was spinning on a merry-go-round of emotions that were all much too scary for Skye to comprehend – the scariest of which, the feeling that she had somehow failed. But at what?

"I'm sorry she upset you," said Jeffrey.

"It's not your fault. I'm just stressed. I think it's making me sensitive."

"If I call her and tell her to please not speak to you or any of your siblings ever again, will that help?"

Skye laughed but shook her head. "No, because you already tried that, remember?"

"I can again."

"Don't bother."

If Jeffrey made that call, Skye doubted very much that it would doing anything other than make his mother feel vindicated. Skye, on the other hand, couldn't make head nor tails of her own point of view on the matter. Why did she have to be so hopelessly bad at feelings? She knew she wasn't at all happy, but that was to be expected. What startled her most was the distinct feeling of having her hopes dashed. Jeffrey had shown her nothing but support about Dušek and their marriage – something that should have reassured her greatly, but failed to do so. That just didn't make sense. Why would she want Jeffrey to – unless that was it. But it couldn't be, could it? No. She couldn't be that out of touch with herself.

Heavy, crushing dread sank over Skye as she finally understood that the problem was not whether or not Jeffrey wanted her. It was that she wanted him.

That did explain why Skye was presently so sidetracked by Jeffrey simply chewing gum, specifically the way that it accentuated the muscles in his jaw, which was so much more defined that she remembered it being. Perhaps a result of all the gum chewing.

"What about a hug? Would that help?" offered Jeffrey – wretched Jeffrey, who Skye had no right to want.

In spite of herself, Skye said that it would. So Jeffrey stood up, and she stood with him. Soon, his arms were around her.

It wasn't a very long hug, but it was long enough for Skye to pick up on three important facts.

The first thing she noticed was that Jeffrey's heart was pounding like it would be if he'd just finished a lengthy sprint. That meant he was nervous to hug her.

He also wasn't breathing, as if to keep from smelling her hair, which now hung in his face.

And Skye's final, most critical observation: she was undoubtedly and substantially fucked.