I take a few seconds to enjoy the result myself. "This is so perfect," she whispers, with her face tipped back to admire the lanterns I've hung from the branches of the tree. Their flimsy lights draw shadows all around us, and it feels like I've created our own little world. "Mission accomplished."

"Not quite yet."

I run back towards the truck, climb onto the passenger seat and grab another item from the bag I'd prepared for the evening. I slide the CD into the car stereo and turn the volume up so we can hear it from outside. The song starts playing Cass's favorite band. It's about waiting for the one you love, coming back home and starting afresh.

I'm back at her side and her eyes look for mine. I notice, again, her shoulders, left bare by the strapless dress she'd chosen for Homecoming.

"You must be cold." I start removing my tux jacket guilty for not thinking of it earlier, but she stops me by circling my waist with her arms and snuggling against my body. I let her perfume wrap around me.

"I've never been as happy as I'm right now." She goes on tiptoes and kisses my mouth. Gently she brushed her lips over mine until her tongue makes its way inside, searching. She sets me on fire, but I let her continue because, tonight, I won't have to hold back.

My fingers caress the skin of her shoulders and make their way down her arms towards the small of her back and her bottom. I cup it through the material of her dress and press her against me.

Cassie cuts off the kiss, steps back, her eyes diving back into mine. "You mean the world to me, Joshua MacBride."

"You are my world, Cassandra O'Malley. And you always will be."

She bites on her lower lip and nods. "I hope so. I don't want a life without you."

"Don't even think about it." I seize her by the hand and lead her to the back of the truck. There, I've laid thick blankets, the softest I found in the house. It's a make-do bed but it should be comfortable enough for us. I circle her waist with my hands and lift her up so that she sits on the tailgate.

I stare at her, and with all the love I've had inside me since I saw her for the first time, eleven years ago, "I choose you, Cassie. For now and forever."

nine.

Oxford ~ Present.

Cassie.

ELEANOR (11.05AM): MEET US AT 7PM AT THE OXFORD UNION. FREWIN COURT. OFF CORNMARKET STREET. ON ST. MICHAEL'S STREET.

CASSIE (11.13AM): WILL BE THERE.

ELEANOR (11.14AM): FANTASTIC! DRESS CODE: COCKTAIL DRESS.

CASSIE (7.01PM): OUTSIDE.

I shivered since I'd left my leather jacket in the room I'd sub-let from Sam. I didn't know much about the Oxford Union, but I guessed the biker look wouldn't be welcome.

And judging by the crowd in tuxedos and stuck-up cocktail dresses filtering through the door, I was right. The tight black dress I wore was the most presentable item I'd packed before leaving Steep Hill. I pulled down its sleeves and tugged at the hem of my skirt before stepping into the building. I didn't have any formal invitation so I waited for a sign from Eleanor.

I patted and patted the mass of my hair. I'd tried to put together the most conservative bun, but there were still a few rebelling wisps. I'd waited all day for Josh to show up at my place. He hadn't. So I'd accepted Eleanor's invitation. Josh would be there. The plan for tonight was... to just break the freaking news upfront and be done with it.

Eleanor appeared in my line of sight and an icy wave crashed over me, my tight dress and my bun. She was beautiful. Beautiful and elegant, and so perfectly put together in her simple midnight-blue cocktail dress. All that perfection made me swoon in the stilettos I'd borrowed from Lola, one of my new housemates.

Eleanor waved at me. I waved back while plastering a fake smile. But that smile required so much effort that the muscles in my face started to ache.

"So good of you to come." She drowned me within a tight embrace. "Josh's bit's about to start."

She took hold of my hand, rewarded the two students with a beaming smile, and hurried along the carpeted corridors, all the time chattering and giggling. I tried to match her pace but I wasn't used to high heels, and once or twice I nearly stumbled.

"... So my father suggested he should participate in the short debate before the debate dinner. Josh didn't want to take advantage of his connections to my dad, but we put so much pressure on him that he had to give in."

"What does your dad do for a living?" I asked to break my silence.

Eleanor gave a dismissive wave from the tips of her manicured hands. "Daddy is doing some lobbying in D.C. So will Josh once we're back home. Dad offered him a position."

Josh was going to work for his father-in-law-to-be. I wondered if the offer had come before or after the proposal.

"So how did the two of you meet?"

Eleanor threw one of her curls back over her shoulders. "At Georgetown. I graduated last year. When Josh got the Rhodes scholarship, I followed him to England. I'm an intern at Vogue in London. But I commute two days a week. That leaves me plenty of time to be here with him. I wanted to live in Paris. That's where my mom is from. But I couldn't stand to be apart from Josh."

Yeah, I guessed as much. Working for a living wasn't one of Miss Eleanor's priorities.

I gave myself a mental slap. I didn't like the girl, but that had nothing to do with who she really was, but rather what she meant. Eleanor was actually nice, and my "news" was going to hurt her. So I forced myself to be polite to bury the guilt.

"What's this Rhodes scholarship all about?"

Eleanor stopped in her tracks, laid her hand on my forearm, and gazed at me from under her perfectly plucked, arched eyebrows. "You really haven't kept in touch with him, have you?" Her question hung between us without me being able to make up a believable lie.

I twitched under her gaze. Finally, she spoke again. "The Rhodes Scholarship is the most prestigious scholarship, probably in the world. There are only a select few post-graduates each year who get the offer to come and study at Oxford."

And Josh MacBride, star student of Steep Hill High, valedictorian and quarterback, was one of the happy winners.

With a shrug, I said, "He was always the first in everything back home but I didn't know he'd gone so far."

"Josh is the most driven guy I've ever met..." Eleanor started walking again. "... after my daddy."

What girl in her twenties still called her father daddy? Grow up, Pollyanna.

I followed her inside a grand wood-paneled room. It was packed, but Eleanor traced her way through the crowd, up to the front row. I was getting the VIP treatment. At the same time as we reached our seats, someone took the stage and gestured for the people to sit and be silent. The room obeyed.

That was when I saw him. Josh stood at the side of the stage, glamorous in his tuxedo. A lump settled in my throat. The last time I'd seem him dressed like that was our Homecoming night.

That night, he'd only seen me. I meant everything to him. Tonight, his profile was hard, set in stone. Nothing else, nobody else mattered to him. He was so clean-cut and focused, his head tipped forward, his jaw tight. Was the boy I loved all my life still breathing inside that man?

"It's about to start." Eleanor shuffled nervously next to me. "I'll introduce you later."

My eyes settled on the people sitting on her other side. A middle-aged couple with power written all over them. The woman shared Eleanor's cheekbones and coloring. Her parents, I guessed. On the row behind me, I noticed Freddie, who greeted me with a wave and a mute "hello."

"Ladies and gentlemen, honored members and guests..." A guy who didn't look old enough to take his SATs was welcoming every man and his dog.

I switched off, with only a couple of words reaching my attention-deficit-suffering brain: Media and Politics. My eyes were stuck on Josh. His gaze drilled through me, and his eyes widened. Once his name had echoed around the room, he slowly marched up to join the speaker. But still, he kept looking at me.

Eleanor mini-waved at Josh, but she wasn't the one holding his attention. I was. That knowledge made me sit up straighter on my seat.

Another guy joined Josh on stage and they started debating Media and Politics. I didn't listen to a word they said. A weight settled in my stomach because I knew what our upcoming chat might cost the promising, ambitious, and very engaged Josh MacBride.

ten.

"Well done, son! A fine performance." Those were Bruce Carrington's words as he laid a paternal hand on Josh's shoulder.

"Thank you, sir." Josh had a satisfied smile and he grabbed Bruce's other hand to shake it. "I really appreciate you giving me the opportunity to prove myself."

"You deserve it. Now I hope I won't embarrass you all." Mr. Carrington gave a short chuckle while he scanned his fan club. His wife Louise-blow-dried and botoxed-Josh, his fiancee, the ever-present Freddie, and me. Eleanor stood at Josh's side, beaming with pride. They gave a brand new meaning to the term "Golden Couple."

We strutted out of the debating room, surrounded by a crowd saluting and congratulating Josh. I stood at the edge, jostled by people wanting to reach him. A massive shout exploded inside my head: 'What the hell are you doing here, you moron?'

What had I been trying to prove? That Josh and I were still riding the same wave? We so weren't. We had nothing in common anymore. Deep down, I knew we never had. I'd never felt worthy of him, as a friend and even less as a wife or the mother of his child.

"We need to talk." Josh's words cut into my thoughts. While the rest of our group had moved towards what was, I thought, a dining room, he had slowed down to match my pace. "Let's go somewhere more discreet."

He nodded towards the other end of the corridor, now deserted since most of the crowd was already in the dining room. I checked on Eleanor, but she hung on her daddy's arm, oblivious to us.

"It'll only take a minute," Josh added, as if he could read my thoughts I stiffened. No, it wasn't going to take him a minute... rather a lifetime.

We turned a corner at the end of a corridor and I followed Josh inside a small, dimly lit room. The only light came from a heavily-shaded lamp in the corner. There was a small sofa along the opposite wall and two cushioned chairs opposite it. Josh didn't move towards them. Our conversation would take place standing up, apparently.

"I don't know what game you're playing, but you'd better stop it right now. Trying to make friends with Eleanor isn't going to get you anywhere."

"I'm not trying to make friends with anybody." My voice rose and I had to force myself to lower the volume. "You were there when she invited me. I couldn't say no."

I could have. But he hadn't come to my place as I'd asked him to. I'd arrived two days ago and I couldn't wait any longer.

"I still want a divorce, and I'll get it." Josh forged on. "Any court will have my back if I show them what you did. Now, you can threaten to reveal all our nasty past to Eleanor and her family, or we can part on friendly terms. This time. I'm planning to come clean with Lenor anyway. Keeping my past with you from her was pretty pathetic of me."

I shook my head. I wasn't an engagement-wrecker or a blackmailer. He got my intentions all wrong.

I heard Josh stifling a groan. Frustration? Anger? But he made an effort to get back in control. "Don't you want to find some closure? I know I do."

Closure.

"There'll never be any closure," I whispered. "Not in the way you want anyway."

Josh flinched. I expected him to come down on me like a ton of bricks, but he didn't.

"What's going on, Cass?" He stepped forward and I felt his eyes searching my face. "What are you hiding? I've seen you like this before... when you didn't want to tell me about the pregnancy, and then afterwards, after the abortion."

I ordered myself to woman up and lifted my gaze to meet his. Now the big moment had arrived, I couldn't chicken out.

I wrapped my arms around myself, took in a deep breath and softly spoke the words I had practiced in my head a thousand times. "We have a son."

Josh didn't move an inch. His face didn't register any shock and his question fell flat. "What do you mean?"

Big mouthful of air. In. Out. "We have a son. He's five, and his name is Lucas."

Josh shook his head. "You're lying." His words smashed me.

"I'm not."

He seemed to swallow my answer, but didn't say anything. Instead, he turned away from me and slowly sat on one of the chairs. He moved like an old man, all stiff and crumpled. His elbows rested on his thighs and he buried his head in his hands.

I had no idea what to do. Make my point and leave? Let him digest the news on his own? Let him stew in it? As much as I'd resented Josh over the last five years, resented his freedom, I couldn't be a bitch about it. Making him suffer wouldn't erase the guilt I'd lived with since I'd lied to him.

I had lied to him. Whatever my reasons-good or bad-I had lied to him. And now I was coming back into his life to crush it to pieces. The weight crashed down on me, made my legs shake, and I stumbled towards the chair opposite Josh. When I sat, the shaking moved to my hands and I stared down at them as though they were covered with blood.

And Josh hadn't moved or said a word. He needed an explanation. "I made up my mind on the day I found out about your early admission to Georgetown. You hadn't told me about it, but I found out anyway." Thanks to his dad. Josh didn't react so I continued. "Gran collapsed that very same day, and the doc told us she wouldn't be able to keep working... that she'd need permanent care very soon after."

Gran hadn't wanted me to hear what the doctor had to say. She knew her diagnosis was as much a sentence for me as it was for her. And, to this day, I didn't know if what killed her in the end was Type Two diabetes or the guilt of keeping me behind.

"I couldn't follow you to Georgetown. I'd have to earn money and go and live with Gran. You would never..." I swallowed hard. "You would never have left me and the baby behind. Either you'd have gone to community college, or taken the first crappy job to help me care for her and raise our child."

Josh's hands fell back on his thighs and moved to grab his knees. His eyes were moist, his jaw clenched. "That's when you decided to have an abortion."

That level of stubbornness would normally have made me go apeshit. But I owed him some time to accept the truth. So I simply shook my head. "I thought about getting rid of the baby. I even booked an appointment... but, in the end, I bailed."

Josh straightened up and I leaned forward to narrow the new distance between us.

"Did Miss O. know about all this?" The use of the nickname he'd made up for my grandmother when we were kids squeezed my heart.

"She did." So did his father, but I couldn't screw with Josh's mind more than I already had. "She kept saying I'd made a mistake not telling you."

"Not telling me what?" With that question, his tone turned harsher. "That you were still pregnant? That you weren't running away with that loser lead singer in that Z-list band?"

I shut my eyes so as not to face the knot of lies I'd come up with all those years ago. But I had to come clean, for good.

"Because, Cass, I'm a bit confused with your chronology. Did you flip the finger to high school and our marriage to follow that asshole? Or did you have a baby instead?"

"I came up with that tour and groupie bullshit to cover for me leaving Steep Hill."

"Where did you go?" He still didn't believe me.

"Kansas City. To a home for teen moms."

The months I spent there were the most miserable of my life. My early years with my mother, then my stint in foster care, hadn't been fun either. But, I guess, they were further away and kids were good at forgetting, or pretending they had.