"Sebastian," Richard calls, beckoning me toward the living room area. "Come take a look at this view before it gets completely dark."
I catch Charlie's eye as I follow her father in the open family room space, and she gives me a subtle smile that says she's okay. I can hear the women's voices and laughter from the kitchen as Richard leads me towards the windows.
"Quite something, isn't it?" he says, gesturing at the mountains silhouetted against the darkening sky, the last purple-orange glow of sunset fading behind them.
"It's incredible," I answer honestly. "I've competed in Aspen hundreds of times, but I was always too focused on the halfpipe to appreciate the views like this."
Richard smiles, hands in his pockets. "Charlie mentioned you were a professional. Snowboarding, right?"
"Yes, sir. Retired after blowing out my knee, but I was lucky enough to transition into the marketing side of things."
He nods appreciatively. "Smart move. Always good to have a backup plan."
There's a pause, and I can sense he's working up to something. I wait, watching as he adjusts his glasses.
"Sebastian, I hope you don't mind my prying, but I wanted to check in with you about this coming week." His voice drops, almost conspiratorial. "About the Ethan situation."
I keep my face carefully blank, though my jaw tightens slightly. "What about it, sir?"
"Well, I know it might be a bit awkward. Ethan's been a part of our lives for a long time—his parents and Charlotte's mother and I go way back." He clears his throat, eyes darting to the kitchen briefly. "Even though things didn't work out between them, he's still like family to us."
I nod, something cold and unpleasant settling in my stomach at the thought of Charlie's ex being so permanently woven into the tapestry of her life.
"I just want to make sure you're comfortable with the arrangement," he continues. "The annual trip means a lot to both families, and, well..." He glances toward the kitchen, where Charlie's laughter rings out at something Emily said. "I have to say, I'm glad to see her with someone who looks at her the way I've seen you do."
The comment hits me like a blindside tackle. My carefully crafted act suddenly feels paper-thin—like he's seen right through to something I've barely acknowledged to myself.
"I—thank you, sir," I manage. "Charlie's told me about her history with Ethan, and I'm completely comfortable with the situation." I meet his gaze directly. "From what I understand, they've both moved on. I know I have nothing to worry about."
He studies me for a moment, then smiles. "Good man.” He pats my shoulder a couple of times. “Just wanted to check. Charlie's happiness means everything to her mother and me."
"Me too," I say, and it's not even part of the act.
The doorbell chimes then, an elegant melodic sound.
"Ah, that'll be the Harpers," he says, patting me on the shoulder before heading toward the entryway.
I look over at Charlie, who's frozen in place, a stack of plates in her hands. Our eyes lock across the room, and I can see the flash of panic in hers.
Without hesitating, I cross the room to her side, taking the plates and setting them on the counter. "Hey," I murmur, lowering my head to meet her eye to eye. "Remember, I've got you."
She nods, straightening her shoulders. "Right. Thanks."
I place my hand at the small of her back as voices fill the entryway—greetings, laughter, the rustle of coats being removed. Charlie leans into my touch almost imperceptibly, and I press a kiss to her temple, breathing in the clean scent of her hair.
"Shall we?" I ask, offering my arm.
She takes it, her fingers curling around my bicep. "Let's just get this over with."
We turn just as the Harpers enter the great room—a silver-haired couple in their sixties, followed by a man my age and a willowy blonde woman.
Ethan Harper is precisely what I expected: medium height, medium build, with the kind of bland good looks that would make him perfect for an insurance commercial. His hair is carefully styled, and his smile seems rehearsed. He's wearing a navy cashmere sweater over a collared shirt, looking every inch the successful finance guy Charlie described.
The blonde is objectively beautiful in that polished, high-maintenance way that requires serious effort. Her makeup is flawless, her honey-blonde hair falling in perfect waves. She's dressed in a cream-colored sweater dress and knee-high boots, with a massive diamond sparkling on her left hand.
"Charlie!" Mrs. Harper exclaims, rushing forward to embrace her. "Look at you, darling! Absolutely glowing!"
Charlie returns the hug, her posture stiff. "Hi, Mrs. Harper. It's good to see you."
