He nods slowly. "He doesn't."
"No," I agree. "He doesn't."
"He seems like a good guy," Ethan says grudgingly.
A smile tugs at my lips. "He is."
"I'm happy for you, Charlie. I mean that." He straightens, squaring his shoulders. "And I promise, I won't cause any more trouble. I just wanted you to know I'm sorry."
"Thank you," I say softly. "That means a lot."
An awkward silence falls between us. Then Ethan clears his throat. "We should probably get back before Sebastian comes looking for you."
"Probably," I agree with a small laugh. "He's not the most patient person."
"Can't blame him," he says under his breath.
We walk back to the dining room together, not touching but not hostile either. There's a finality to this conversation that feels like closing a door on a long chapter of my life. Not slamming it shut, but gently clicking it closed and locking it forever.
When we enter, Bash's eyes find mine immediately, questioning. I give him a reassuring smile as I claim my seat beside him.
"Everything okay?" he murmurs, his hand finding mine under the table.
I lace our fingers together, feeling the steady warmth of his palm against mine. "Everything's perfect," I whisper back, and for the first time in a long time, I mean it completely.
Across the table, Ethan takes his seat, looking lighter now. Our eyes meet briefly, and I see acceptance there. Maybe even the beginnings of peace.
Bash's thumb traces patterns on my hand as my father stands to make a toast. The candlelight catches on the facets of crystal glasses, sending rainbow prisms dancing across the white tablecloth.
I lean into Bash's side, feeling his solid presence beside me, and I think: This is what contentment feels like. Not the absence of challenges orthe promise that nothing will ever hurt again, but the knowledge that whatever comes, I won't face it alone.
And that's more than enough.
The Harpers leave with a strange mixture of awkwardness and reconciliation hanging in the air. Mrs. Harper hugs me tightly before departing, whispering another tearful apology in my ear. I squeeze her back, silently letting her know that I don't hold her responsible for Olivia's actions.
Mr. Harper shakes my hand formally, his eyes conveying gratitude that I didn't press charges against his son. "You've always been good to our family, Charlotte," he says. "I hope we'll see more of you next year."
Then it's Ethan's turn. He steps forward hesitantly, but this needs to happen, this final goodbye that feels more like closure than our conversation in the kitchen did.
"I wish you nothing but happiness, Charlie," he murmurs. "You deserve it."
I watch him shuffle his feet, hands awkwardly hanging at his sides.
"Thank you," I reply. "Take care of yourself, Ethan."
Ethan then turns to Bash, extending a hand with a hint of resignation.
"Take care of her," he says, his voice tight. "She deserves someone who sees her value."
Bash's face remains neutral as he accepts the handshake. "I know exactly what she's worth," he replies, the slight edge in his voice subtle but unmistakable.
I slide my arm around Bash's waist, leaning into him slightly.
Ethan nods once, understanding passing between the men. Without another word, he follows his parents out.
Once he's stepped away, there's a lightness between us that hasn't existed since before our breakup. The weight of what-ifs and might-have-beens has finally lifted.
The door closes behind them, and before I can even process the emotions swirling through me, Bash pulls me into his arms. His kiss is possessive yet tender, a wordless claim that leaves me breathless. I smile against his lips, loving the way he makes me feel.
