Nathan looked at the apron tied around my waist. Then he looked at the dinner table that had been set for everyone except me. His expression hardened.

“I know her very well,” he said. “She’s my fiancée. And I’d like to know why she’s washing dishes while the rest of you are eating dinner.”

The word fiancée hit the table like a wineglass shattering. No one moved.

My mother opened her mouth, but for the first time, she had no cruel remark ready. Claire stared at my hand as if searching for a ring I had never dared wear around them.

Logan gave a nervous laugh. “No way, Emily. Since when?”

I took a deep breath.