It isn’t, I tell myself as I follow Luke, Chaz’s fault. Not really. He’s just never known happiness—true, romantic happiness—as great as what Luke and I share. So of course when he sees it, he looks on it with suspicion. Of course he doubts our chances of success.

But when he sees us together—how happy we are, now that we’re really and truly committed to each other—he’ll change his mind. He’ll come around. He’ll see how wrong he was to say all those horrible things.

And someday Chaz will find a girl—the right girl for him—who’ll make him as happy as I know I make Luke… and he’ll make her as happy as Luke makes me.

And then everything will be all right.

Wait and see. Just wait and see.

“Here we are,” I say when we reach the door to my new apartment, which I fling open. “Home sweet home.”

“It’s great,” Luke says enthusiastically as he follows me inside.

I smile at him. “You don’t have to pretend to like it. I know it’s horrible. But it’s mine. And as soon as I get the time—and some extra money—I’m going to fix it up.”

“No, Lizzie, it really is great.” Luke sets down the Starbucks bag and the Diet Coke and puts his arms around me. “It’s like you. Completely whimsical and totally charming.”

“I hope it’s not like me,” I say with a laugh. “I hope I’m not covered in big blobby rose wallpaper with slopey floors and cracks in my ceiling.”

“You know what I mean,” Luke says, nuzzling my neck. “It’s unique. Like you. It already smells like you. God, I can’t believe how much I missed you. And we were apart for only, what? A week?”

“Is that what you want? A guy who comes running back to you and proposes just because he’s so scared of being alone, he’d rather be with a girl he knows isn’t right for him than be by himself?”

God! Get out of my head, Chaz Pendergast!

“Something like that,” I say. Luke’s nuzzling is getting more serious. Or at least closer to the bateau neckline of my dress.

I jump away and reach for one of the Diet Cokes.

“So who should we call first?” I ask brightly.

“Call?” Luke’s eyes, which tend to have a dreamy look about them even when he’s wide awake, are heavy-lidded with a combination of jet lag and, well… sex. Sexual desire, anyway. “I wasn’t thinking about calling anyone, to tell you the truth. I was actually thinking about trying out that bed I see over there. And I was hoping you’d get out of that dress and join me… ”

“Luke,” I say after I’ve chugged down a mouthful of restorative caffeine and potassium benzoate. “We have to call people and tell them the good news. I mean, we’re engaged.”

“Oh.” Luke looks longingly back at the bed. “I guess. I mean… Yeah. You’re probably right.”

“Here.” I dig into the Starbucks bag and pull out the coffee he’d ordered for himself, along with two muffins. “Drink this. Let’s make a list. We should call your parents, of course.”

“Of course,” Luke says, taking a sip of his coffee.

“And mine. And my sisters. Well, they’ll be at my parents for New Year’s Day brunch with Gran, so we’ll be able to reach them all with one call.” I grab a notepad I’ve left on the tiny yellow kitchen table, while Luke peels off his coat and sinks onto one of the table’s matching yellow chairs. “And I have to call Shari, of course. And you should… you should probably call Chaz.”

Luke has his cell phone out and is punching numbers into it. An overseas number. Too many numbers for him to be calling Chaz.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“I’m calling my parents,” he says. “Like you said to.”

I reach out and close his flip phone.

“Hey,” he says, looking confused. “What’d you do that for?”

“I think you should call Chaz first,” I say. “Don’t you?”

“Chaz?” Luke looks at me as if I’d suggested he mainline heroin and then shoot his mother. “Why would I call Chaz first?”

“Because he’s your best friend,” I say, sliding onto the chair opposite his. “And aren’t you going to ask him to be your best man?”

“I don’t know,” Luke says, still looking confused. He must be much more jet-lagged than I thought. “I guess.”

“He’d be so hurt if you didn’t tell him first,” I say. “You know, he was so kind to me this past week, while you and I were… apart. He helped me move in here and everything. And last night he even went with me to the Higgins-MacDowell wedding.”

Luke looks touched. “He did? That was nice of him. He must be feeling better. You know, after the whole thing with Shari turning out to like girls.”

“Uh,” I say. “Yeah. It was. Nice of him, I mean. That’s why I think you should call him first. And thank him. For being such a good friend. And tell him how much his friendship means to you. I really think he just needs to hear your voice.”

“Okay,” Luke says, opening his flip phone and dialing. “I think you’re right.”

A second later, as I’m squeezing my fingers together and praying that Chaz is still in the subway and won’t pick up, Luke says, “Chaz? Hey, it’s me. I’ve got some news, man. Are you sitting down?”

I jump from my chair, convinced I’m going to throw up what little Diet Coke I’ve downed so far, and run to clutch the edge of the sink.

This is it, I think. Chaz is going to tell him. Chaz is going to tell Luke that just twelve hours ago, his hand was down my bra.

And the engagement is going to be off.

Probably I’m not going to get to keep the ring.

“What? Yeah, I’m back. I’m at Lizzie’s. I got back this morning.”

What is Chaz doing? He knows Luke is back. I told him Luke’s back. Oh God. Just do it already, so we can get this over with.

“Okay. So you’re sitting down? In a cab? Where are you going in a cab on New Year’s morning? You were? You did? Who was she?”

I grab the edge of the sink. This is it. I’m going to hurl.

“What do you mean, you’re not going to tell me?” Luke laughs. “Fine, you dog, you. All right. Well, here’s my news: I asked Lizzie to marry me. And she said yes. And I want you to be my best man at the wedding.”

I close my eyes. This is the part where Chaz tells Luke that he can’t be his best man because he thinks he’s making the worst mistake of his entire life.

And that, oh yeah, by the way, last night his tongue was down my throat.

“Thanks!” Luke is saying into the phone in a cheerful voice. An entirely too cheerful voice for him to be responding to the news that last night his best friend and fiancée were making out in the back of a cab. “Yeah, I do too. What? Lizzie? Sure, you can talk to Lizzie. Hold on.”

I turn around from the sink just in time to see Luke cross the kitchen to hand the phone to me.

“He wants to talk to you,” he says. Luke is beaming. “I think he wants to extend his congratulations personally.”

I take the phone, feeling sicker to my stomach than ever. “Hello?”

“Hi, Lizzie.” Chaz’s deep voice rasps in my ear. “You were hoping I’d spill the truth to Luke about our illicit affair and he’d call the whole thing off, weren’t you? No such luck, I’m afraid. You got yourself into this mess, and you’re going to have to get yourself out of it. If you think I’m going to come sweeping in like some kind of prince on a milk-white charger to save your pretty little buns on this one, you’re high.”

I let out a totally fake laugh. “Thank you!” I cry. “That is so nice of you to say!” Luke continues to beam at me from across the kitchen.

“Yeah,” Chaz says. “You know, when you packed up all your stuff and left his ass high and dry, I thought, finally. A woman with some moral fiber. Little did I know that all he’d need to win you back was a big diamond ring and a few crocodile tears. I really expected bigger things from you, Lizzie. Tell me something. Are you going to wait until the invitations have actually gone out before you admit to yourself that Luke is the last guy you ought to be spending the rest of your life with? Or are you going to do the right thing and call it off now?”

“Great, Chaz,” I say, with another fake laugh. “It was nice talking to you too.”

“This is like watching a lamb being led to slaughter,” Chaz mutters. “Is getting married really that important to you? It’s just a goddamned piece of paper.”

“Thanks, Chaz,” I say. I’m not sure how much longer I can keep up the fake laughing. Because I’m ready to start shedding real tears. “Thanks so much.”

“Look, I… Just put him back on.”

I hold the phone out to Luke. “He wants to talk to you,” I say.

Luke takes the phone from me. “Hey, man. Yeah? Uh-huh.”

I drift away, into the bedroom, unzipping my dress as I go. I can’t believe this… any of this. I have what I wanted… what it seems like I always wanted: The man of my dreams has proposed to me. I’m going to be married.

I should be happy.

Strike that. I am happy. I am.

Maybe it just hasn’t sunk in yet.

“What’s going on?”

I look over to see Luke standing in the doorway, his cell phone closed in his hand.

“What are you doing?” Luke wants to know. His gaze falls on my dress, lying in a pink puddle on the floor. “I thought we were going to call people and tell them we’re engaged.”

“I changed my mind,” I say, flipping the bedclothes back to show him what I have on underneath them. Which is nothing. “I think I like your original idea better. Want to join me?”

Luke tosses his cell phone over his shoulder. “I thought you’d never ask,” he says. And dives into bed with me.

Luke and I are doing some postcoital spooning. It’s so nice to be in his arms—a place I seriously thought I’d never be again.

“So I was talking to my uncle when I was in France this past week,” Luke is saying.