I guess this is why Ava is so thin.

“That crazy DiCaprio,” Jack says in a Scottish accent.

Okay, so you remember the funny story about Trip’s wedding? Just your typical girl-gets-invited-to-her-ex-boyfriend’s-wedding-only-to-be-broken-up-with-by-her-awful-cad-of-a-Scottish-boyfriend-mere-minutes-before-the-wedding-forcing-girl-to-drag-her-best-friend-Jack-in-his-place-and-make-him-wear-a-kilt-and-speak-with-a-Scottish-accent-in-a-desperate-attempt-to-keep-her-dignity-ever-so-slightly-intact sort of story. Well, Trip kinda, sorta still doesn’t know that Jack was posing as Douglas. So they still think Jack is Douglas. Which means he still has to fake the accent.

And I have to pretend that that day was perfectly normal, that I was just like any other woman who goes to her ex’s wedding. Okay, so I understand that most women don’t get invited to their ex-boyfriend’s weddings. And I realize that most women don’t RSVP “yes” to their ex-boyfriend’s weddings because they are dating gorgeous hunky Scotsmen and they want to show up to their exes. And, okay, most women, when then broken up with by their hunky Scotsmen, don’t recruit their friends to take his place and pretend to be him. And pretend to be engaged to said faux-Scotsman. But, then again, I’m not most girls.

And therein lies my charm. I think. I’m pretty sure Jack told me that once. Or at least I think he did. Didn’t he? Anyway, the point is, I’m not most girls. And Jack, luckily for me, is not most guys.

And I’m lucky that he’s not. Since going to Trip’s wedding as a fake couple, Jack and I have actually become a real couple.