Chapter 12

EMILIA

For once, Liam isn’t grinning or cracking jokes. He actually looks like he’d rather be anywhere else, and that throws me off.

If he didn’t want to be here, why has he been so eager about this wedding? He was the one who rushed us into every open door in East Village, the one who insisted on getting gifts—even if they were ridiculous. He hadn’t exactly lit up when he mentioned knowing the groom, but he’d still put in the effort.

Then again, a cake wouldn’t even crack my top fifty wedding gift ideas. But what would I know? I’ve never had a wedding, after all.

Liam takes the jab in stride, flashing a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Good thing the surprise wasn’t for you,” he says smoothly, turning to the groom on the right. The tension in his shoulders eases as he takes in the outfit, his lips twitching in amusement. But instead of commenting, he simply says, “Congratulations, Mar. Even if you did just marry an asshole—better an asshole I know t