Andrew Underhill-Santiago has been married for three years. On the day of his wedding to Raphael Santiago, he wore a midnight black single-button dinner jacket with a flared shawl collar and silk-trimmed welt pockets. But Andrew wouldn't be Andrew if he hadn't been standing in the menswear aisle with his brow furrowed in concern. Andrew Underhill-Santiago is one of those people who is insanely bad at making up his mind. We spent what felt like hours discussing the pros and cons of a black dinner jacket. We finally ended up with a midnight blue one with a black collar and after another round of discussion, Andrew owned two identical dinner jackets in different colours.

As is often the case, Raphael was right and the blue dinner jacket fits like a second skin.

"You look good", says Raphael, looking at me across the mirror with a smile.

"He looks hot. That blue looks a lot better on you than it does on me", retorts Andrew with twinkling eyes and a mischievous smile.

"I don't want to embarrass Alec. This was a shitty idea", I say quietly and undo the button to slide the jacket off my shoulders.

"What are you doing?", asks Andrew, upset, suddenly standing in front of me, sliding the jacket back over my shoulders and closing the button. With deft moves he tugs at the fly and then looks at me with satisfaction.

"You look great. And Alec will be happy you're here." Of course I had to tell my two best friends all about the kiss and the walk in the rain. I also didn't leave out the strange encounter this morning. They both fell silent and after a while Raphael wordlessly walked into their shared bedroom and now I'm standing in this stunning dinner jacket wondering what the hell I'm doing here.

Head off, heart on. Magnus Lightwood is no coward. I'm simply a guest at a wedding. No one knows I'm coming. Fuck. What kind of embarrassment do I face showing up unannounced at my Las Vegas husband's sister's wedding? They don't know I'm coming.

"Alec doesn't even know I'm coming. If he wanted me there, I'm sure he would have asked. Alec is a direct person. I can't go there." Doubt. Lots of doubt and also fear poisoning my thoughts. Why am I thinking like this?

I don't have time to think about it. Andrew grabs my wrist and pulls me with him to the door, grabbing his car keys as he passes.

"See you later darling. I'll drive Magnus to the location. And I'll make sure he stays there too." Andrew calls out and I can still hear Raphael laughing. I'm sure he already has one or two stupid sayings on the tip of his tongue, but the door has already slammed loudly behind us. Andrew is big and strong and I am only half as willowy as I appear. Regardless of my doubts, I enjoy Andrew's guidance and visibly relax as we sit in the car.

I just listen silently as Andrew tells me that my boss's wife is my husband's new best friend. Alec has mentioned that he's already thought about the pergola, but not that the two of them are so close. And Mrs Wayland also gave him the address of Andrew's surgery. Andrew is reading me the riot act for letting Alec sleep on the sofa and now he has to take care of my husband's battered muscles. Alec would have been spared this pain with a decent bed and an orthopaedic mattress.

Andrew can be very verbose once he is intoxicated and even more so when it comes to his job. Medical terms, musculus trapezius, musculus rectus capitis posterior major, fascia nuchae are just a few. I just switch off and lean my forehead against the cold glass of the window. Nervousness creeps in and the further we go, the worse it gets. Andrew drives purposefully through the crowded streets. So many cars, gleaming avalanches of metal and countless people trying to cross the big road while the light is still green. People of all ages, men and women with children by the hand, an elderly gentleman with a black dog on a pink leash, stressed managers and above it all the cloudless blue sky with a bright sun. It's the perfect day for a wedding and I hope it doesn't end in chaos due to my sudden appearance.

The drive took forever, what felt like twenty hours and another continent later, Andrew turns into the driveway of a chic little country hotel. The stately building of brown stone and vines on the façade welcomes us and immediately leaves a warm feeling in my chest. A white-gravelled driveway lined with narrow hedges and beautifully flowering rose bushes. Their scent is wonderfully sweet in the air and I take a deep breath as I leave the car and a light breeze runs through my hair. The sun warms my face, a fresh breeze tickles my skin and my heart beats up to my throat as I realise that there is no turning back now. My hand clutches the top edge of the car door, the cold metal pressing firmly into my palm. The other hand trembles slightly. A man with blue eyes and black hair stands in front of me. His face speaks volumes. He is anything but pleased to see me.